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There are too many people rushing at us to stop them all, though. They approach like worshippers, respectful but rabid.
“Who is that crying!?” I hear someone ask, and I’m immediately on the offensive.
“A child!”
“Who’s baby is that?”
“Are those green eyes I see?”
A small group of women are at Cat’s side before I can stop them.
Fucking hell. No one else can know about Oscar.
“Enough!” I command, hoping that my orders work better on these people than they have on Catalina.
Sure enough, everybody freezes. Curious eyes draw away from Oscar and land on me instead.
“Where are you coming from?” I ask, subtly trying to gesture with my eyes for Cat to leave. She’s not looking at me, though. Oscar’s cries are finally starting to fade and she’s desperately trying to sooth him down the rest of the way.
“We were tasked with putting down land mines over by the quarry,” a man responds.
I’m familiar with that mission. Juan and Jesus and I have been sending out groups to strategically place explosives around important routes and landmarks, so that, if we ever need to, we can funnel our enemies down whatever path works best for us.
“And, were you successful?” I ask, slowly backing up so that I can nudge Cat in the right direction.
“Yes, sir!” A younger man proudly announces. “If those bastards try anything with our water supply, we’ll blow them right to hell!”
A small cheer washes over the little crowd.
Finally, I reach Cat’s side... but it’s too late.
“He’s got the same green eyes as his father,” one of the women sings.
“Oh, no... I mean... uh,” Cat stumbles over her words as it becomes clear to her what’s at risk. Oscar has calmed down, and his big curious eyes are trying to make sense of all these new people.
“Don’t worry,” another woman warmly assures Cat. “He’s got your nose!”
“What’s his name?” Someone asks.
“It’s not safe out here for such a child,” another adds.
I take that as our way out. “You’re right,” I agree, wrapping my arm around Cat’s shoulder. She’s trembling. “We need to go. Thank you for your sacrifice, everyone!” I bellow. “We fight for you!”
“I’m fighting for you!” Someone shouts.
“You and your family!” another adds.
A burly middle-aged man with a fresh scar across his weathered face raises his fist. “To Angel. To Catalina. To their child. And to a new and free Colombia!”
The crowd roars and I force myself to raise my fist with them. It’s the last thing I want to do right now. These people may be on my side, but there’s no way they’re keeping their mouths shut about this. News of where they saw Cat and I will spread like wildfire... and so will news of our child.
“That was a fucking disaster,” I grumble, slamming the bedroom door shut behind us.
Cat sits down on the bed with Oscar as I pace back and forth by the window. We were far enough away from Wilmar’s when we were spotted that no
one should know where we’re staying, but we were still close enough to put this whole area in potential danger.
What the fuck are we supposed to do now? Where else is there to go?