She tensed. “Whaddya want, Danny?”
He slid a hand over hers. “You know who the general trusts in this town? My dad. And he told him something mighty interesting. Over at another Outpost, they caught a guy trying to sneak through the cordon. The general says there might be others. So I been asking around. This new man of yours, he ain’t from the base. Word is he’s been hauling trash for Salamanca.” Danny smiled, his nails digging into her skin. “There’s a reward.”
She shook him off. “Whaddya want, Danny?”
He licked his fingers and winked at her. “Lemme think about it and get back to you in a couple of days.”
That night Carmen sent Tommy to Inez, then told Martin what had happened. “You can’t stay here,” she said when she finished. He looked at her with his unblinking, fearless gaze. “Martin, you can’t.”
“I could kill him,” he said calmly.
“It wouldn’t end it.” She shivered. “He knows, his father knows, the guys he runs with know. Salamanca knows, and if the Garzas know about the reward, he’s bound to hear it. You want a list of the guys who collaborate with the army, that’s it. You can’t kill ’em all. And sooner or later, one of them will turn you in.”
Martin was silent.
She took his strong hands in hers and pressed them to her cheeks, wetting them with her tears. “You can’t stay!”
“What about you?” he asked. “You and Tommy and the baby?”
Carmen sighed. “We’ll get by.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I,” she said. “But, Martin, they think you’re a traitor. They’ve already decided you don’t have any rights. If they catch you, they’re gonna put you someplace where you never see daylight again.” She smiled sadly. “I know that doesn’t scare you. But you’ve gotta do like your Henri taught you. You’ve gotta think about the danger. And then you’ve gotta run.”
He frowned. “I am thinking. What if it’s a trap? Why would he give us time to think? Time for me to run?”
“Because Danny Garza is a stupid, fucking bully, and that’s what they do.” She let go of his hands and scrubbed at her tears. “Get off on having people in their power. Get off on making ’em scared. I’m scared out of my fucking wits, and he’s getting off on it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t.” Carmen gave another sad smile. “I guess on the inside bullies are as scared as the rest of us. Danny wasn’t so bad, once. But he’s scared people won’t think he’s a hard guy like his dad. So he acts like a shit, and it makes him feel better.”
Martin contemplated her. “That’s the sort of thing Henri would have said. He would have liked you.”
“You think he was the one who got caught?” she asked hesitantly.
“No.” He shook his head. “He’s too smart.”
“You’ve gotta be smart, too. Promise?”
He was silent for a long time, longer than usual. “There was a place in Mexico Henri chose for us. He read about it in an old travel guide. It had a funny name and a lot of fish. Huatulco. He thought it sounded nice. I’ll write it down for you. If this ever ends, if they ever open the border, I hope you’ll come find me.”
“Thank you,” Carmen said through tears.
The next day was a long goodbye.
Martin talked to Tommy about what was to come. Once the boy got over the worst of his upset, he listened well.
“You know you’re going to have a little sister or brother, right?” Martin asked him. Tommy nodded. “Well, your mama’s going to need a lot of help. And you’re going to have to be the best big brother anyone could be.”
“I will,” the boy said gravely.
“You know I’m different, right?”
Another solemn nod. “You’re the strongest man in the world and you’re not scared of anything.”
“Maybe not the world.” Martin smiled briefly. “But you’re right about the not being scared part. Here’s the thing, Tom Garron. Never being scared is a kind of stupid. You understand?”
The boy shook his head.
“Okay.” He propped his elbows on the table. “Would you pet a rattlesnake?”
“ ’Course not.”
“Well, this little brother of yours, if he turns out like me, he might just pet a rattlesnake if he took it in his head to do so, because he wouldn’t have the sense to be scared of getting bit. He’s going to have to learn all kinds of things regular people just know.”
“What if it’s a girl?” Tommy asked.
“No difference,” Martin said. “Not if she turns out like me. You’re going to have to help your mama teach her to be extra careful. Especially when she’s little. Teach her to recognize danger, okay? Like not petting rattlesnakes, and staying out of the street when the soldiers’ trucks are coming through, and not ever getting in a fight you know you’ll lose.”
“You’d never lose a fight!”
“I lost one yesterday, son.” Martin touched the boy’s cheek. “But it took your mother to make me see it. Sometimes the only smart thing to do is run away. That’s what you’re going to have to teach your little sister or brother. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“Good boy,” Martin said.
The boy listened attentively while Martin told Carmen all the other things she needed to know, all the ways in which the child she was carrying might be different. About food, about sleep. About strength and speed. About the vast reserves of energy to be hoarded and expended, and what was necessary to replenish them. He spoke in a low murmur about a few things the boy was too young to understand.
And then there was nothing left to say.
There was the last supper. Carmen went out to fetch it. She ascended the stairs wearily, tossed a greasy, bulging sack of burgers on the table.
“No Danny Garza?” Martin asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Good.”
They ate in silence. Tommy kept his head lowered, fair hair shuttering his face. He imitated Martin, eating with steady, methodical precision. Afterward, they played a few hands of poker while twilight settled over Outpost. In the distance, they could hear the sounds of a night’s revelry beginning.
“Time for sleep,” Carmen told her son.
“Martin?” Tommy lifted his head. “Will you be here in the morning?”
“No,” Martin said gently.
When Tommy lay on his cot, Martin smoothed the boy’s hair back, kissed his brow, giving him the love he’d never have a chance to express to the child growing in Carmen’s womb. Tommy sighed and closed his eyes, sinking into sleep despite himself.
Carmen shivered. “Hold me?”
“Yes.”
She nestled against him, taking succor from the weight of his arms around her. Together on the big bed, they watched twilight deepen into night. When the sounds of revelry began to grow dim, Carmen sighed. “You should go.”
“I know.” Martin’s voice deepened. “Will you do me one kindness?”
“What?”
“Boy or girl, name the child Loup. L-O-U-P.” His teeth flashed in a grin, white and unexpected. “You know what they call a werewolf in Haiti? A loup-garou. Loup Garron.”
“Lou,” Carmen murmured.
“Yes. But spell it the way I told you.”
“I will,” she promised.
And then he stood, a dark figure in a dark room. She rose and kissed him one last time, wrapped her arms around his uncanny solidity. Let him go and gave him a shove. He left by the balcony. If Danny Garza wasn’t completely stupid, he’d have someone watching the door, but he wouldn’t expect a man to jump from the second story into the alley. Martin dangled from the ledge, let himself drop. He landed with a soft thud, crouching. He straightened and glanced up at her. She gave him one forlorn wave. He returned it, then began moving, swift and silent.
In seconds, the darkness swallowed him.
Gone.
SIX
So what’s it gonna be, Carmen?” Danny Garza smiled brightly at her. “Make me an offer.”
She filled his coffee mug. “He’s gone.”
His smile froze. “Whaddya mean, gone?”
“He went back to the base to turn himself in.” Carmen eyed him. “What’d you think, Danny? He was just a guy who got tired of chasing the ghost. That story about a reward was bullshit to get you to turn in a deserter.” She splayed one hand over her belly. “So you scared him away and now I’m knocked up, and he’s gonna get thrown in the brig. Thanks.”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”
Carmen shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He rose, grabbing her arm and wrenching it. “Don’t lie to me, girl!”
“Hey!” Grady waddled over from the grill and pointed a spatula at Danny. “I pay my dues to your old man, mister. You’re obliged to keep his peace.”
Danny Garza wasn’t afraid of Grady, but he was afraid of his father. He let Carmen go. “If I find out you’re lying…” He shrugged, because there really wasn’t a whole lot he could do if he did. “And if you’re telling the truth, sucks to be you, huh?”
“Yeah,” Carmen said sadly. “It kinda does.”
A flicker of something that might have been guilt crossed his face and he turned away. “Yeah. Well, I’ll see ya.”
“Hey, Danny,” she called after him on impulse. “You ever think maybe it’s all bullshit? Maybe they call it chasing the ghost for a reason? Maybe there’s no such thing as El Segundo and we’re all just stuck here to cover up a lie?”
A few soldiers lifted their heads. The diner got very, very quiet.