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Mateo crossed himself the way some of the more devoted Catholics in town sometimes did. “Ay, Dios mío!” he cried in a terrified whisper. “It’s the Ejército de la Noche.”
The Night Army? wondered Gutsy. Who or what was that?
“Maybe it’s only the townies,” said Duke. “Maybe they figured it out.”
“Both of you shut up,” ordered the captain. She stepped away from the others and turned in a slow circle, studying the area. Then she slid her knife into its sheath and bent to study the ground around the grave. The others stood with their guns pointing out into the night.
“There,” said Bess, and they all looked down at a set of footprints exposed by the yellow glow. The prints began at the far side of the grave and moved off toward the cemetery entrance. “Stand down. It’s not the Night Army . . . and whoever did this, they’re not here.”
Simon knelt by his captain and looked at the footprints. “One set. Small. A woman?”
“No,” said the captain, “this was a girl. Fifteen years old. Mexican.”
“How could you know that?” asked the big lieutenant.
“Because,” said the woman with a sneer, “I know who it was. Damn. She always said her daughter was smart.”
“Wait,” said the lieutenant, frowning, “are you talking about Luisa Gomez’s kid? You think she figured out it was us who brought her mother back?”
“That’s exactly what I think,” said Bess. “And she buried these rocks for us to find in case we came back.”
“Excuse me, ma’am,” said Mateo. “Why would the Gomez girl do this?”
The captain holstered her gun. “Because even rats can be smart. This one thinks she’s really smart. She’s trying to play some kind of trick on us.”
The men said nothing.
Even at that distance, Gutsy could see the captain’s face in the glow of the lantern. The woman was pretty, but her expression made her ugly. There was no trace of humanity, no spark of compassion on the woman’s features. That expression was every bit as cold as the deep hatred Gutsy felt in her own heart.
“Get the gear,” said the captain. “We’re done here.”
Mateo and Duke sketched quick salutes and ran to collect their tools. The hulking lieutenant lingered with his commanding officer.
“Bess,” Simon said quietly, “you don’t think Luisa told her daughter about the project? About us?”
The question clearly troubled the captain. “Luisa didn’t know all that much.”
“No, I don’t mean anything Luisa might have suspected before. I mean after. Do you think she told her anything after we dug her up?”
The captain stood for a moment considering the question, head cocked to one side, lips pursed in thought. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “But we can’t take any risks, can we? Come on, let’s get back.”
They climbed into their wagon and it rumbled away.
When Gutsy was absolutely sure she was safe, she stood up. She did it slowly, and the act felt like her body was pushing against a huge, crushing weight. The night had been clear and quiet, and she was sure she’d heard every word without distortion or mistake.
Do you think she told her anything after we dug her up?
“What?” she asked of the night. Sombra came and stood next to her, growling at the figures now being swallowed by the distance.
Tears burned in Gutsy’s eyes, but her fists were hard as hammers. Cold as stones.
“What?” she demanded, needing to understand what she had just heard.
The darkness, that deceitful place of shadows and mysteries, held its secrets and told her absolutely nothing.
39
GUTSY AND SOMBRA WALKED THROUGH miles of shadows, back to the Abrams tank.
