Huddled Masses

Chapter 13

Miguel squirmed in his seat, shoulders burning and hands numb. He switched between sitting forward, which strained the muscles in his lower back, and leaning back against the seat, which shot needles of pain into his wrists and shoulders. He found that resting against the door offered some semblance of comfort.

The SUV turned onto an exit ramp that led to one of the towns that had begun popping up on the landscape. Miguel felt better to be in the midst of civilization, not tucked away in some dark, quiet corner of the country like a dirty secret.

"El Paso is less than three hours away," Strickland said. "We're getting gas and taking a bathroom break. I'll move your cuffs to the front when we stop."

Buchanan pulled into a gas station and parked at one of the pumps. He turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat with a great sigh. The keys rattled in his hand when he pulled them from the ignition, as if tempting Miguel to take them. Buchanan nodded to Strickland, who exited the SUV and began his purchase at the pump. The sound of gasoline flowing into the tank furthered Miguel's urge to use the bathroom and he was relieved when Strickland opened his door.

"Lean forward, feet flat, and press your head against the seat. I'll undo one side and then you put your hands on the seat in front of you. Once the cuffs are back on you can lean back. Got it?"

Miguel nodded and complied, enjoying the brief moment of relaxation when his arms could move in an unrestricted fashion. "Thanks," he said.

Strickland ignored the gratitude and closed the door. He waited for the tank to fill and then returned the hose to the pump. He then opened Miguel's door again.

"The bathroom is outside the gas station," Strickland said. "I'll take you to it so you can take a leak. Step out and keep your hands in front of you. Walk slowly and no sudden movements."

Miguel slid out of the SUV and walked towards the gas station, Strickland shadowing his steps. He saw the sign for the bathroom and moved in that direction, walking with his head down as he passed some of the gas station patrons.

Miguel pushed the bathroom door open with his shoulder, instantly gagging from the acrid stench of stale urine. The walls and floor were caked in filth, and the lone fluorescent tube in the ceiling flickered in an offbeat rhythm.

There were three urinals and one stall with a door that was attached solely by the bottom hinge. Miguel stepped up to the first urinal and nearly threw up. Someone had decided that a urinal served the same function as a toilet, unaware or unconcerned that they had clogged the lining.

Miguel went to the second urinal, which someone, somehow, had managed to shatter the porcelain. He moved to the third, and found that this one was at least in one piece. He then went about the awkward business of using the bathroom while handcuffed and under supervision.

Miguel finished as quick as his bladder allowed and then washed his hands. He and Strickland left the bathroom and waited for Buchanan to return from inside the gas station. The two agents took turns watching Miguel so the other could use the bathroom and then they left the station.

"This won't be like the other places you've been to," Buchanan said.

"What do you mean?" Miguel said.

"It's a government processing center, one of the few that they didn't get turned over to us."

Miguel was confused and his concern mounted. "Why didn't you just take me back to the same place as before?"

"Because you compromised the last location," Strickland said. "We've wasted enough resources trying to find you and your friends. We're not taking you back so you can have another go at it. The folks in El Paso will have you over the border in no time."