“That’s not possible,” Atl said, placing the documents on the table.
“I’m not sure if you know this, but the city is going wild,” Elisa told them. “Cops found an abandoned factory filled with corpses and they’re talking vampires. They’ve got checkpoints set up; they’re checking buses and cargo trucks. I won’t do it.”
“So you can’t take us to Guatemala,” Atl said.
“It is too dangerous. You can have your money back.” Elisa tossed Atl’s envelope in front of her.
“I don’t want the damn money,” Atl exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. “I need your help to make the border crossing. You said you’d get me out.”
“I said it was complicated,” Elisa replied.
“Can’t we just take a bus?” Domingo asked.
“Sure. When we get to the terminal, we’ll ask security to let us on nicely. I’m sure they won’t question us when they notice I’m missing a hand or anything. Good God.” Atl grabbed her glass and downed it in one quick gulp, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.
“Sorry,” Domingo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“She could stay with you,” Elisa said, speaking to Bernardino. “Things will cool down in a while and it’ll be easier to leave the city. The roads should be better.”
“They can’t be with me,” Bernardino said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“What other option is there?” Elisa said.
“If you think—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Atl said, stuffing the papers back in the envelope. She was trying to keep herself in check but it wasn’t working, her hands were shaky, barely able to grip her documents. “I got into Mexico City and I can get out by myself and—”
“Cross at Ciudad Hidalgo. It will be controlled by Necros,” Bernardino said nonchalantly, his turn to interrupt her.
“The South is still in dispute,” Atl said. “It’s not controlled by them.”
“I’m sure Godoy has shared your picture with as many associates as he can. I’m sure it’s even been shared with people who are not his associates at all. One way or the other there are going to be too many people interested in you. You can’t manage on your own. Not if Elisa is right and this has exploded the way it has.”
“What do you suggest?” Atl asked.
“There’s old trails in the jungle. Stuff only villagers use.” Bernardino said, “You can get far if you know the right person. I do. I can help you get into Guatemala, but I can’t get you out of Mexico City.”
“I hopped on a truck to get in,” Atl said. “I could hop on another.”
A group of mariachis had begun to play at a nearby table. They were singing the corrido of “El Caballo Blanco.” People started to sing with them. Atl had poured herself another glass of tequila.
“I’ve seen what the checkpoints are like,” Elisa said. “They’re not going to let the truck through without a search.”
“So? We keep quiet,” Atl said in a clipped voice.
“And if they have thermal scanners? Every bus, every car, anything with wheels is going to be searched. This stuff’s too hot right now.”
Atl did not reply. She leaned back on her chair and raised a hand, covering her face for a minute before she downed her drink. A thought popped into Domingo’s head.
“You don’t need no wheels to get out of Mexico City,” Domingo said. “You can walk out.”
The three of them stared at him.
“Walk out?” Atl said, sounding incredulous.
“They’re not going to have people at the landfills.”
Atl straightened up in her chair, raising her chin.
“Go on,” Bernardino said.
Domingo licked his lips. “Bordo Blanco overflows into the State of Mexico, okay? It’s not supposed to, but that’s the way it is. In theory there’s the containment wall and the canal running by to divide it neatly, but that doesn’t happen. Once you get across the drainage canal you’re outside Mexico City pretty fast. You can keep going from there. All we have to do is walk through the landfill and cross the canal. And there’s a way to do that. There’s a path.”
“And there’ll be no security?” Atl asked.
“No. Look, the landfills are not ruled by cops, they’re ruled by the people there. Zamora is the boss at Bordo Blanco and I’ve bought garbage there for the rag-and-bone man. I’ve hauled stuff and I’ve been across the entire landfill. I can take you.”
Bernardino raised his eyebrows and glanced at Domingo, giving him a smirk. “You’ve managed to surprise me, boy,” he said.
Domingo smiled. He drank his beer.
“Well, it seems you are in good hands,” Elisa said, pushing her chair back abruptly, like she’d left a ham in the oven and her house was about to burn down. “I trust I won’t be meeting with you again.”
“No,” Atl said. “Thank you.”
Elisa grabbed her purse and her coat. “Lovely seeing you,” she told Bernardino.
“Likewise,” Bernardino said, showing his yellowing teeth, a note of derision punctuating his words.