Haitian Harbinger by Lincoln Matt

Author:Lincoln Matt [Matt, Lincoln]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-10-05T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Ethan

We tried to ask the man some more questions, but he was inebriated and irritable, and very uninterested in sharing any more about his experience. I gave him my card just in case he changed his mind, so he knew how to get a hold of me.

I did ask him if he remembered anything about a mask, but that seemed to scare the living hell out of him, so we left him alone after that, paid for our drinks, and thanked the bartender and the other customer for their time. I figured that his extreme reaction to the question alone was an answer in and of itself, in a way.

We called back the patrolman and told him to take us to the next town over to see this other bar where the cartel supposedly hung out, but when we got there, the doors were barred shut, and there wasn’t a soul to be found on the premises.

This town looked even smaller and more deserted than the last one. The small buildings lining the lone street looked dilapidated and like they were falling apart, and I didn’t see much color anywhere. This was accentuated by the dark sky, leaving the only light coming from the stars and the sliver of a moon.

“This is strange,” Alejandra remarked as we walked around, looking for anyone to speak with, anyone at all. “I wouldn’t have expected this. It’s not that late, even for a border town.”

“They didn’t say anything about the bar closing down,” I remarked. “They didn’t say anything about any of this, right?”

“Well, they did mention that since the cartel started frequenting the bar, this town has grown more infested with the gang than the others,” Alejandra admitted. “I didn’t say so before because I was afraid you wouldn’t let me come with you.”

“You would’ve been right,” I said sternly, but secretly I was impressed. I was beginning to think that Alejandra would make a good MBLIS agent.

“So, what do we do now?” Holm asked. “I vote heading back to the hotel.”

I nodded, casting one last look at the bar. “That would probably be for the best.”

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something pressed against the side of the bar, almost completely obscured in the darkness of nightfall. But no, it wasn’t something. It was someone.

I tentatively walked up to the man, who appeared to be sleeping. He was no doubt Haitian and wore ragged, baggy old clothes with holes in them. He didn’t look or smell like he’d had a shower in at least a week.

I exchanged a look with Holm.

“Should we wake him?” he mouthed.

The fear was that doing so would be more trouble than it was worth, but I worried that we would lose out on some crucial information should we fail to talk to the guy.

“Do you speak French?” I asked Alejandra.

“Not well,” she admitted. “Only what I remember from school.”

“Well, let’s hope he speaks Spanish or English. Otherwise, it’ll have to do,” I said, gently shaking the man awake.

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