Chapter 31. The Hacienda Anciana
“I never had much ta’ live for. At least now I have somethin’ I’m willin’ ta’ die for.”
– Lorena’s Prayer Book
The Hacienda Anciana, Mexico
Lorena took Arturo’s hand as he helped her down off the horse. They stood before a lithic two-story edifice, older than anything Lorena had ever seen. Along the walls grew varying shades of moss that covered the history of the retreat, affectionately hiding its scars. For a place even nature itself was determined to protect, Lorena found it strange that it served as home to the lord of the banditos. She stayed close behind Arturo as they walked inside.
“Welcome to the Hacienda Anciana, operating base of the northern banditos, and home to our leader, Miguel Estaban.”
Lorena continued to examine the stony establishment as they walked inside. Two great arches formed the entrance, leading to a secluded courtyard. Passing through the archway, the air felt instantly cooler due to large trees providing shade for the area. The duo received a few passing glances walking into the courtyard, though all eyes turned away when they seemed to recognize who Lorena was with. On either side of the entrance were walkways, intermixed with plants and pillars, leading to what Lorena assumed were storerooms, or possibly sleeping quarters.
In the center of the courtyard stood a small, ornate chapel. With benches on both sides of the entryway and a fountain between them, the chapel far outshined the small chantry she had maintained back home. Banditos lounged about on top of the chapel, on a balcony, in front of a breezeway that led to private quarters. She assumed it was meant for Estaban.
Realizing that Arturo was staring at her as she stopped to look around, Lorena had to remind herself where she was, and to breathe before she could form coherent thoughts.
“This…this is—” she stammered.
“This is the reason good men choose evil.”
Arturo led her through a petrous arcade to a set of stairs heading underground. Though the walkway was well lit, she stopped at the cellar door, refusing to follow.
“What’s down there?” she tried to peer down the stairs.
“A substructure. We keep most of our resources underground. They stay cooler, they’re protected from the environment, and no prying eyes ever learn of their existence.”
“So why do ya’ want me down there?” she fidgeted with her fingers.
Arturo met her gaze at eye-level, taking her hand.
“I will not harm you—I promise you. No one else here will make you that offer. Now I need your help, but if you feel more comfortable waiting up here, then you may want to do so by the chapel. I think you’ll find it’s not unlike your old one.”
Arturo turned about and headed into the basement. Holding one calloused hand in the other, Lorena started walking toward the chapel. Her heart began beating violently in her chest as she realized how many banditos had been watching her, more taking notice since her escort left. Small drops of sweat slid down her back, vivid images of her assault still emanating in her mind. Looking at both options, she gritted her teeth and disappeared behind a row of pillars, briskly hobbling to the basement.
The poor lighting throughout the stairwell didn’t offer her much in the way of guidance, though it was enough for her to see the stockpiles of weapons, medicine, food, and so many other supplies that awaited at the bottom. Adjusting to the cool, moist air on her skin, she considered why the banditos had been raiding the area for so long. They had a private retreat and enough materials to lay siege to a respectable city. If anyone ever retaliated, they could barricade themselves for months, if they had a will to.
She shivered as she looked for Arturo, unaccustomed to the dank drafts that moved through the cavernous underground hall. Looking back, it was impossible to tell how large the room was, though she thought she could make out the impression of a large door in the far back. As she continued walking along, she tripped over a burlap sack, nearly falling on her face.
“Lorena! Be careful.”
Arturo moved out from behind a large crate and a pile of bags to help her up. He returned to his work, and finished laying out some of the bags. Lorena watched as he rearranged them, noticing it had been done throughout most of the basement.
“Arturo, what’re ya’ doin’?”
“You see the resources we have. There’s no one in this part of the country that can challenge us. If Estaban is ever to be stopped, he has to be cut off from his fortress.”
“With bags?” Lorena looked back to the sack she tripped over.
“With bombs.” Arturo watched her. “Look at the pattern I made over here.” He pointed to an arrangement of sacks lain behind the crates. “I need you to do that on the other side of the cellar, and I need you to do it quickly.” He shifted his gaze to the stairwell. “There’ll be men coming down to check on the supplies soon. They won’t question me directly because I’m a kin leader, but if they find us it’ll only be a matter of time before Estaban gets involved.”
Lorena looked over Arturo’s pattern, reluctant to move anywhere near it.
“What if I explode it?” she asked.
“The explosives aren’t armed. Don’t bang them around too much, but they’ll be okay until I prime them. Now hurry!”
Arturo directed Lorena to the other side of the basement, where she began laying out sacks and hiding them just as Arturo had done. Though she moved somewhat slower, she worked hard to keep up with him. Even in spite of dull pain still throbbing in her ankle, she labored and managed to cover most of her side. Exhaustion set in the longer she worked, and unable to tolerate the humidity any longer, she took a seat on one of the crates.
“Ar…Arturo.” Lorena panted in between breaths. “I gotta take a break.”
“Head up to the chapel. I should be able to finish this.”
“Ya’ sure?”
“The less time you’re down here, the better. Go.”
Lorena climbed off the crate, heading back to the stairs. She took her time climbing them, using the opportunity to catch her breath. As she reached the top and placed her fingers on the knob, the door swung open. It hit her nose and abruptly knocked her behind the door into the wall. She grunted, trying to restrain her voice, as a group of banditos headed into the basement. She held still, pressing her body against the cold craggy wall, trying to avoid notice. As she waited, willing even the silence to be quiet, they passed by and continued down to the basement.
She made her way back into the courtyard, taking shallow breaths as she headed to the chapel. She looked back, waiting for a ruckus of some kind, but no noise ever came out of the cellar. Taking count of the area, only a couple of banditos remained about, but most of them maintained a keen interest in her.
She reached the fountain, letting out a small sigh of relief, and cracked the door of the chapel open to peek inside. She observed a wooden altar with several sticks of incense burning before a number of banditos joined in prayer. The intoxicating scents of the incense made her stomach churn, reminding her of home. Regaining her senses, she excused herself back into the courtyard to take a seat on the bench.
She waited. For such a treacherous place, it was surprisingly quiet. She expected a bandito stronghold to be more violent, or chaotic, but it almost seemed… pleasant. She leaned back, trying to relax under the trees in the familiar warmth of the desert, but the tension in her muscles reminded her danger was never far. She listened for some sort of dilemma from the cellar, expecting Arturo to be caught at any time, but nothing came. Instead, a bristly arm forced its way around her waist as an attractive but unwelcome bandito sat next to her, taking hold of her.
“What’re ya’ doin’? Get offa me!” She pushed him away, but his strong grip on her waist made it difficult to move.
“It’s okay, mami, I’m not gonna hurt ya’. I think you and me are gonna be real good friends.”
“I got friends, thanks.” She struggled to get him off.
“Oh yeah,
where they at? Don’t see ‘em.” The bandito looked around. “Don’t worry, I think you’ll like me.”
The bandito stood up, half-dragging Lorena with him as they walked toward one of the rooms. Lorena struggled to pull herself away, but the more she tried, the more unwelcome attention it drew from lecherous onlookers. As they neared the room, she began to slide her arm around the bandito’s waist.
“Ah, you wanna be friends now?”
Lorena nodded in response to the bandito’s question.
“Good, good. I think things go much better for my friends.”
She maneuvered her arm under the bandito’s, still wrapped around her waist, rubbing her hand along his leg as she worked herself free. They arrived at their apparent destination, the bandito stopping in front of a door to look Lorena over. She opened the door for him, extending her arm forward as she watched his slimy tongue work its way over pristine teeth.
She nudged him through the door, quickly shifting her weight to throw her shoulder into the center of his back. The bandito’s foot caught on the edge of the doorway, causing him to fall forward onto his face into the room. Lorena hauled ass toward the entrance, ignoring the pain in her ankle. A thunderous voice boomed out. “Hey!”
She froze in her tracks, craning her head toward the balcony to identify the source of the voice. Looking up, she saw a man who looked very much like Adelais staring back at her. She recoiled, squinting to make sure it was him. She felt a rough squeeze on her hand as the bandito grabbed her wrist and started dragging her back toward the room. She punched him in the arm, but it wasn’t enough to detour him. While she was trying to come up with a new way to stop him, the bandito halted his march mid-step.
Lorena looked around him to see Arturo standing before the bandito with a cut on his bruised cheek, still seeping blood. He remained deadlocked with the bandito, expressionless. The bandito forced an audible stream of air through his nose, snorting as he flung Lorena’s arm aside. He moved out of the way, around Arturo, and headed back to his room.
Lorena doubled back, running toward the courtyard to get a view of the chapel. She caught sight of the man who looked like Adelais crossing the breezeway above. The man watched her only momentarily, entering into the private dwelling, along with an older gentleman before they disappeared. The men gone, she lost focus as someone approached her from behind.
“Don’t be afraid, it’s me. We have to go.”
Arturo placed his hand on Lorena’s shoulder, forcing her to turn, and walking her out of the Hacienda. Lorena stopped him, trying to head back.
“Was that Adelais? What’s up there?”
“We don’t have time for this. We need to go.”
“What?” Lorena shouted, flustered.
“You see my face? They thought I was stealing from the reserves. They’re been dealt with for now, but even as a kin leader, there’s no way to know what Estaban will do once word gets back to him. To you as well as me.”
Lorena refused to move, but found herself overwhelmed by Arturo as he respectfully dragged her along. She eventually ceased struggling, accepting Arturo’s help to climb onto the horse. She waited as he untied the horse, and helped him up.
“We’ll look at your friend’s situation once we get some distance and a chance to regroup, but for now we have to leave.”
“Did ya’ at least finish everything ya’ needed ta’ do?”
Arturo hesitated. “No. And now they’ll be looking for me. We’ll have to improvise, and do it soon.”
Arturo lowered his head as Viaje began to saunter. He led the horse into a full-fledged gallop as they rushed away from the towering Hacienda with no plan and time quickly running out.