La Malinche

Rosa had an unpleasant life and an even worse death. Escaping poverty and civil war in El Salvador, she fled toward el norte. American border guards turned her back, however, and a few unscrupulous “coyotes,” the men who run refugees like her across the Mexican-American border, used her as a plaything. After a couple years of turning tricks in Tijuana, Rosa was traded for a couple dime bags to a dealer from the capital who thought she’d be fun for a few nights while he was in Baja. She didn’t cry much and reminded him of a schoolgirl who’d mocked his manhood 20 years before, so he brought her home with him as a souvenir. The next few months she spent under the limp-dicked wonder in a dirty apartment off Avenida Cinco de Mayo. Having long since hit rock bottom, Rosaeventually shed her fear and realize( she had nothing left to lose. The next night she stabbec her captor through the eye with a screwdriver. She ran, clutching her dead captor’s worldly posses sions: 28 American dollars, 4,000 pesos, a knock-off Role: and a .38 caliber revolver with three bullets. She made i precisely six blocks before a gang of vutos came out of thi shadows. They smiled and one of them smacked her acros the jaw with a baseball bat. After that it was pain, darknes and hunger, in that order. Shewokeupdeadandpissedalltohel1.Shewasnakedan~ tied to a pseudo-altar made from the half-rusted carcass of a early80sFordpickup. Some&6nwasdrippingchickenblool into her mouth, and what’s worse, she was gulping the thi gruel down. She wanted more, and if that meant tearing thes pendeios to bits, so much the better. Especially the lead one whl was reciting some sort ofbullshit ritual, calling her YaMalinche, whom she dimly remembered was some native whore who’i sold out the Aztecs for a Spanish lay. When they let her l a x all she wanted to do was rip into the assembled idiots, but the had makeshift torches, and fire, she somehow knew, was nc her friend. She ran, with the others chasing after her an1 hanying her toward who knew what. Fat Americans, as it happened. A tour bus full of them She ripped out the first one’s throat without even thinkin about it and his blood tasted much better than the chicken had. Thescreaminggrhguwiththe“1 HeartE1Paso”sweatshir was next, followed by her bleating child. The vutos chasin her joined in the fun and painted the bus red with gore. On of them got so distracted, he let her take his torch. The loo on his blood-smeared face when she stuffed the flaming stic into it was priceless. His screams were even better. After thz she ran again, but they weren’t chasing anymore. That was only a few weeks ago. Much of the intervenin time has been spent hiding. She’s learned some of the basics ( unlife: Fire and sunlight are altogether unwelcome. Bloo Mwco Cm BY NICK 12 3 makes her strong and fast, very fast. And there are others like her out there. La Malinche ended up in the shanties east of the airport, and has had several run-ins with a long-haired mestim who is, if anything, more murderous than her. The mestiza keepsonmutteringabuther“sisters”andRosahasbeentrying to find out where she nests. Maybe she needs another sister. A woman, dressed all in white and wearing a death‘s head, visits Rosa in her daytime dreams. She attempts to speak, but Rosa cannot hear the words. She is sure that following the mestiza is part of the ghost’s plan, however. La Malinche is a political nonentity in Mexico, but that gives her some unwitting influence. Bishop Natalio is anxious to deal with her before the story of her escape from his rim spreads. Others see her as a useful pawn and work to draw her into their schemes.

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