So Diego lifted his foot and very slowly I began to saw off his pinky toe.
Evaristo still didn’t talk, despite the excruciating time I took to cut through the gristle and bone, and we had to inject him with adrenaline to keep him alert and conscious.
Finally — finally — as his toe rested on the ground in front of him, severed from his foot, and after Diego had taken off his own shirt to soak with gasoline, Evaristo muttered, “Please …”
I motioned for Diego to pause and pulled Evaristo back by the hair. “Please what?” I asked, staring down at his face, puffy, black and blue. He’d aged centuries at my hands, and I was shocked to find that the need to hurt, maim, and destroy was still inside me.
He opened his eyes and stared right at me. They were red, all his blood vessels having burst at some point. “You’re worse than they say you are,” he said slowly, painfully.
I tried not to smile. “Then you’ll talk? Or do you want more?” My eyes slid to Diego and back.
Evaristo breathed in and out, thinking. I nodded at Diego who slapped the shirt down on his raw back.
I kept my fist in his hair as he cried out, screaming again. “No, no more. No more, please! Don’t light it. Don’t light it! I’ll talk.” He shut his eyes, and for a moment I thought he might cry, but when he opened them again he said, “If you keep your promise.”
“That I let you go?” I asked. “I gave you my word and that’s the truth.” If Evaristo ended up dying in the desert, food for vultures, I didn’t really care. But I would let him go.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. I want water.”
“You’ll get water after you talk. In fact, I’ll have my wife take good care of you.” That was one reason why I brought Luisa along — she was very good at tending to captives after they’d been tortured. It made them feel safe. Sometimes I had her do it during the whole process, as a way of playing good cop and bad cop. She probably didn’t want to do it, but I knew she would. Her heart was too good to let someone suffer.
Evaristo slowly nodded and tried to breathe through what was left of his pain. Then he opened his mouth and began talking.
Half an hour later I had all the information I needed to successfully destroy Angel Hernandez, to do the things that Evaristo’s very own agency wouldn’t come right out and do because of bureaucratic tape and involvement in the DEA. He still didn’t believe we were doing his organization a favor. In fact, he didn’t seem to have much faith in them at all.
I couldn’t blame him.
“Well,” I said to him as Diego finished writing up everything in his notebook. “I’ll go get Luisa and some water.” I started to walk away but paused, looking at him over my shoulder. His eyes were drooping shut and I had an odd twinge of respect for the young man.
“Evaristo,” I called out. He lifted his head and stared at me. “You proved yourself today, what you’re made of. Your agency is lucky to have you. And you are far too smart and valuable to be a federale. If you ever want to fight for the other team, you have a place here. Just keep that in mind when you return. You may think you’ll be in their good graces, but they will shun you. They will wonder what you told me and call you a snitch. And sooner or later, you’ll be working a desk job in some office in Mexico City, because they won’t trust you after everything you were put through. They won’t show you any respect. All this pain will be for nothing. But you have my respect.”
He watched me for a moment. Then he said, “Fuck you,” and closed his eyes.
I shrugged. “As you wish.”
I left the tunnel and went upstairs. I had totally lost track of time. I had lost track of days. It was almost dark outside, the light fading to a bruise, the color of Evaristo’s cheek.
I found Luisa in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a cup of tea in front of her. She was alone.
I stopped in the doorframe and watched her for a moment. I couldn’t tell if she was lost in her head or ignoring me. Her hair fell across her face as she stared out the windows at the darkening desert.
Something beat inside me quietly. And for once it wasn’t rage.
It was regret.
“Luisa,” I said softly.
She looked up at me, so startled that she spilled some of her tea on the table. Her eyes held something dangerous in them. It was fear of me. I couldn’t blame her.
“Sorry,” I apologized. I came over and sat down beside her. She seemed so small all of a sudden. I felt like I hadn’t laid eyes on her for a week and that might have been true. “Are you okay?”
Now the fear changed into something that looked like guilt. I didn’t like that look. It made my chest feel hollow. It made me feel like a million things were about to go very wrong.
She nodded and picked up a napkin from the middle of the country table, dabbing at the tea. I reached out and put my hand over hers. I half-expected her to snatch hers away but she held it there as if frozen. In fact, it appeared she was holding her breath.
“I mean here, on the ranch,” I said, clearing my throat. “How have you been doing?”
She watched me for a few moments as if trying to gauge my sincerity.
“I’m fine,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. I licked my lips as I watched hers, so full and soft.
“Where is everyone else?” I asked.
She shrugged and slowly moved her hand out from under mine. “They went into La Perla. Evelyn is with the horses.”