Huddled Masses

Chapter 13

I guess that makes sense, Miguel thought. They didn't want to risk him stirring up more trouble at the camp. "So what are you going to tell people back at the camp?"
"We don't need to tell them anything," Buchanan said sharply. "You don't matter, remember that. You're just another number in the system, and I seriously doubt any of those pieces of shit will even notice you're gone."

"We'll probably tell them you were killed by wild animals," Strickland said. "That, and your friend getting shot, should keep any other bad hombres from trying to hop the fence. A good deterrent for any more escapes."

"What happened to the others?" Miguel said. "What happened to Gio?"

"We thought we had the other two but it was a bad lead," said Strickland. "It still led us to you though. The prick that got shot bled out back at camp. Like I said, a good deterrent."

Poor Gio. Miguel couldn't believe True Patriot had allowed that to happen. His country, his home, was becoming unrecognizable. Aren't we supposed to be the good guys. Do the good guys kill a man to scare people into behaving the way they want? We've invaded countries that acted like this.

Miguel cleared his throat. "Did you let him die to make an example? Was killing a man supposed to be some kind of object lesson. You guys trying to show off how big and strong you are, killing people who are tired, scared, and can't defend themselves?"

"It's all part of the natural order of things," Strickland said. "People die all the time. Sometimes they deserve it, sometimes they don't. Your friend broke the law and he paid a consequence. We have to follow the law or we lose any sense of security."

"Gio was a veteran," Miguel said. "He didn't deserve to die like that."

"Tough shit," said Buchanan. "So was Lee Harvey Oswald. You don't see no one crying over him now."

Miguel didn't respond and remained silent. He hoped Héctor and Antonio were okay and he wondered if Gio had any family. He watched signs of civilization increase, indicating that he was nearing his destination. There were used car dealerships, fast food restaurants, and mom and pop shops with outdated decor.

The SUV crossed an intersection and then Miguel saw an iron fence with brick trim that enclosed a massive parking lot. The white trucks and camouflaged ATVs that littered the lot told Miguel that they had arrived. He recognized the vehicles from TV, the ones that the Border Patrol used along as they searched for immigrants. They were the latest models of pick up and ATVs, prompting Miguel to wonder how much had been spent, and as Emma had said, who had benefited from the purchase?

They turned into the complex, stopping at a gate manned by a solitary guard. Buchanan rolled down his window, letting in a hot draft of dusty air inside, and waved a badge in front of a fob reader. The gate opened with a click and the SUV rolled past the waving guard.

This area beyond the gate was littered with several small offices and one large building in the back that had the ominous feel of a prison. The bare concrete skin was enclosed by a chain link skin and the only noticeable feature on the building was the entrance; no windows and no other doors. They parked in an empty space and Buchanan turned off the engine.

"Stay put until we tell you to move," he said without turning around.

Don't move and we won't hurt you. Then we'll use our computers to pass judgement on you for not having the right papers. After that we'll force you to leave the only home you've ever known and make you live somewhere that you can't even remember. Miguel understood perfectly.

Miguel's skin crawled when Stickland opened the door and a rush of hot air swept over him. It wasn't the heavy, muggy air that he was used to back home, the air here was dry, it felt dead to him.