Chapter 2 - The Boy Who Should Have Run
The object beneath Diego's hand was not a weapon.
It was something better.
A shovel blade.
One of the attackers had dropped the shovel partly into the grave when Diego charged them. Its wooden handle extended beneath loose soil near Beatriz's legs.
The tall man grabbed Diego's jacket.
Diego yanked the handle with both hands.
The shovel came free.
He swung it sideways.
Not at the man's head.
At his arms.
The attacker recoiled instinctively, giving Diego enough space to scramble backward.
“Get away from her!”
His voice cracked with fear.
The shorter man appeared at the grave's edge.
“You're dead, kid.”
Diego believed him.
He positioned the shovel between himself and the two men.
Beatriz struggled behind him.
“Diego,” she whispered. “Don't fight them.”
He glanced back.
“What?”
“They'll kill you.”
“They're already trying.”
The taller man stepped down.
Diego jabbed the shovel toward him.
The attacker caught the shaft.
For one second they fought over it.
Diego was younger.
Faster.
But hunger had weakened him.
He had gone almost two days with nothing but half a package of crackers and a bottle of water.
The attacker dragged him forward.
Diego's boots slid.
Then Beatriz moved.
Her hands were still restrained behind her, but her legs were partially free.
She drove both feet into the attacker's knee.
The man stumbled.
Diego jerked the shovel loose.
“Again!” Beatriz shouted.
They didn't get the chance.
A sound came from the trees.
A dog barking.
Then another.
The attackers froze.
Headlights appeared briefly through the pines.
Someone was coming up the old service road.
The shorter man's face changed.
“We need to go.”
The taller man looked at Diego.
“We finish them.”
“No time.”
The barking grew louder.
A man's distant voice called, “Rocco!”
The shorter attacker grabbed his partner.
“Now!”
For a moment Diego thought the taller man would refuse.
Then he pointed at Diego.
“I saw your face.”
Diego tightened his grip on the shovel.
“So did I.”
The man smiled coldly.
“That's why you're going to regret tonight.”
They ran toward the van.
The engine roared.
Its tires spun in the wet soil before catching.
The black vehicle disappeared among the pines.
Diego remained motionless until he could no longer hear it.
Then the shovel dropped from his hands.
His knees buckled.
Beatriz leaned against the grave wall.
“Diego.”
“I'm okay.”
He wasn't.
His head throbbed.
His ribs hurt.
His hands were bleeding from digging through gravel and roots.
But Beatriz was alive.
That was enough.
The barking came closer.
Diego climbed out of the grave and pulled loose dirt away until Beatriz could move her legs.
Her wrists remained bound.
“Turn around.”
He searched the ground and found a small broken piece of sharp plastic near the van's tire tracks.
It took several attempts, but he eventually sawed through one zip tie.
Beatriz pulled her hands forward and winced.
Red marks circled both wrists.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not badly.”
“You sure?”
She stared at him.
“You climbed into a grave with two men twice your size, and you're asking whether I'm hurt?”
Diego almost laughed.
But before he could respond, a large brown dog burst through the trees.
Diego raised the shovel.
“Wait!”
Beatriz grabbed his sleeve.
A middle-aged man carrying a flashlight appeared moments later.
“Rocco! Come back!”
He stopped.
His flashlight illuminated them.
Then the grave.
Then the abandoned shovels.
His expression shifted from confusion to alarm.
“What happened?”
“Call the police,” Beatriz said.
The man hesitated.
“Please,” she repeated. “Now.”
He took out his phone.
Within twenty minutes, the forest filled with red and blue light.
Police vehicles blocked the service road.
Paramedics checked Beatriz.
Another medic pressed gauze against a cut on Diego's temple.
Detectives photographed tire tracks, footprints, shovels, disturbed soil, and the deep grave.
Diego sat on the back step of an ambulance wrapped in a blanket.
For the first time since the attack began, he had nothing to do.
That was when the shaking started.
His hands wouldn't stop.
A paramedic noticed.
“Adrenaline crash.”
“I'm fine.”
“You've said that four times.”
Diego looked away.
A few feet away, Beatriz spoke with investigators.
Even covered in mud, she had changed.
The frightened woman inside the grave was gone.
Her shoulders were straight.
Her voice was controlled.
“When did they take you?” a detective asked.
“Approximately nine thirty.”
“From where?”
“My home.”
“Did you recognize either man?”
“No.”
“Did you recognize the vehicle?”
“No.”
“Why did you say the name Mauricio?”
Beatriz went silent.
Diego looked toward her.
The detective repeated the question.
“Mrs. Alcántara?”
“My business partner is Mauricio Vega.”
“And you believe he arranged this?”
“I don't know what I believe yet.”
One detective exchanged a glance with another.
Beatriz noticed.
“Do not contact him.”
“Ma'am—”
“Do not contact anyone from my company until I speak to my family personally.”
Her tone left little room for argument.
Then she looked toward Diego.
“Except him.”
The detective followed her gaze.
Diego lowered his eyes.
An hour later, investigators finally approached him.
They asked his name.
“Diego Hernández.”
“Address?”
He hesitated.
“I don't have one.”
The officer looked up.
“Where are you staying?”
Diego pointed vaguely toward the forest.
Silence.
The detective's expression changed slightly.
“You live here?”
“For now.”
“How long?”
“Five weeks.”
“Family?”
Diego shook his head.
“Anyone we can call?”
“No.”
The detective glanced at Diego's torn backpack.
“You witnessed everything?”
“Most of it.”
Diego described the van.
The men.
The digging.
The conversation.
Mauricio's name.
He told them exactly what he had heard.
When he finished, the detective closed his notebook.
“You understand you're an important witness.”
Diego gave a tired laugh.
“That's never been one of my problems before.”
The detective didn't smile.
“It's a problem now.”
At dawn, a dark SUV arrived.
A woman in her late thirties jumped out before it had completely stopped.
“Mom!”
Beatriz turned.
The woman ran toward her.
Behind her came a man in his forties and a teenage girl wrapped in a coat.
Beatriz's composure finally cracked.
She held her daughter and began crying.
Diego looked away.
Families deserved privacy during moments like that.
He picked up his backpack.
His blanket had been left beneath the tarp, but he could return later.
Nobody would need him now.
He had taken three steps when someone called his name.
“Diego.”
Beatriz.
He stopped.
She approached him slowly.
Up close, she looked exhausted.
Her daughter followed.
“This is Elena,” Beatriz said.
Elena looked at Diego.
“My mother told us what you did.”
Diego shrugged uncomfortably.
“I was there.”
“You could have run,” Elena said.
“Yes.”
“But you didn't.”
Diego stared at the mud beneath his shoes.
Beatriz touched his arm.
“Where are you going?”
“Back.”
“To the forest?”
Diego didn't answer.
Beatriz's eyes narrowed.
“You are not sleeping under a tarp after saving my life.”
“Mrs. Alcántara—”
“Beatriz.”
“I appreciate it, but I don't need—”
“You need breakfast.”
That stopped him.
His stomach betrayed him with an audible growl.
Elena heard it.
So did Beatriz.
Neither woman laughed.
Beatriz simply said, “Then breakfast first.”
Diego looked toward the police.
“You said these people might come after me.”
“They might,” one detective answered.
Diego looked back at the forest.
For five weeks it had been the closest thing he had to a home.
Now it was a crime scene.
Beatriz seemed to understand what he was thinking.
“Come with us.”
“Why?”
“Because you saved me.”
“That doesn't mean you owe me anything.”
“No,” Beatriz said. “It means I owe myself the decency not to leave you here.”
Diego hesitated.
Then she added quietly, “They saw your face.”
The words changed everything.
He climbed into the SUV.
As they drove away, Diego looked through the rear window at the pines.
His tarp was invisible from the road.
So was the grave.
So was the life he had lived until that night.
He didn't know it yet, but he would never sleep beneath that tarp again.
Forty minutes later, they reached Beatriz's estate on the outskirts of Guadalajara.
Security guards opened iron gates.
The house beyond looked enormous.
Diego stared.
Elena noticed.
“You're safe here.”
Diego wanted to believe her.
Then one of the security guards stepped forward.
Beatriz stiffened.
“Where is Mauricio?” she asked.
The guard hesitated.
“He's inside.”
Everyone went silent.
Beatriz's face went pale.
“I told no one I was coming home.”
The guard looked confused.
“Mr. Vega arrived before dawn. He said he was waiting for news about you.”
Diego slowly turned toward Beatriz.
Somebody inside the house already knew she had disappeared.
May you like
And Mauricio Vega had arrived before the police had publicly announced she had been found.
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