A/N: Here it is, the next chapter! More action for all of you that like it......
...enjoy!
Chapter 19: Blind panic
El could not stop him. Sands flew from the room like a man with wings, all injury forgotten. He had recognised that woman's scream even though he had never heard it before. That was his Evelyn's scream, it could be no other. His panic made him stupid, it made him foolish. He didn't even think of the cartel, his only thought was Evelyn and that he had to get to her. He burst through the door and heard the clicks of several guns being cocked, at least six of them from all directions. They were enough to stop him in his tracks.
"Why Agent Sands, how nice of you to join us." Sands barely heard the voice, he was listening too intently for any sign of Evelyn but he could hear nothing. He couldn't see the man glance at the other cartel members with murdering ferocity. The cartel leader had been assured Sands was dead, killed instantly in the car crash that had brought Evelyn to him. He had been livid of course; he had wanted to kill Sands himself but having his bitch seemed like the next best thing. He had travelled to the place Evelyn was being held and had been about to kill her when...he looked at Sands. His fellow cartel members may have lied to him but at least now he would have the sweet pleasure of doing what he had wanted to do all along.
"Take his weapons." Sands felt rough hands remove his guns and then the men backed off.
"Take his glasses."
"No," said Sands and he spread his hands out in an attempt to touch the men before they could touch him. Taking his dignity was not something he would stand for, but he only had two hands and there were six of them. He was pushed hard in the back so that he was propelled forwards. Someone had stuck their leg out in front of him, Sands fell over it and landed painfully on the floor. His glasses slipped off his nose and hit the floor. They slid a little way before stopping. Sands hung his head as everyone around him gasped, his teeth grinding against each other.
They were all staring at him. Sands could feel their stares boring into him. He got up onto his hands and knees and tried to hide the pain radiating from his abdomen. He wanted to reach for his glasses but for the moment he remained still, listening.
"Well, well," said a sneering voice, "Look at what my dear late uncle did to you." Sands felt someone's hand grip his hair and force his face upwards.
"That is disgusting," said the voice and the man released Sands, "Put on your fucking glasses before I vomit." Sands was happy to oblige. He knew exactly where his glasses had landed and his hand had almost closed upon them when someone kicked them away from him.
"What's the matter Sheldon? They're right in front of you, can't you see them?" Sands felt sick and it was nothing to do with his injury this time. Humiliation was the course they had chosen for him, he should have known. Sands had followed the sound of his glasses skidding across the cold stone floor, where were they? A basement? He still knew where his glasses were. He reached out for them knowing they would be kicked away from him at the last second. How predictable.
"Come on Sands, they're right there." Sands wanted very much to stop playing this stupid game but he knew he had to buy time. His fingers closed around them. This time they were not kicked away but crushed viscously under the heel of one of the cartel. They crushed one of Sands' fingers in the process; he heard it break but refused to acknowledge the pain. He would not give them that satisfaction. The cartel with his boot pinning Sands down laughed.
"Agent Sands," said the voice Sands' now recognised as belonging to Barillo's nephew. He sounded like a younger version of his uncle but no memory of Barillo's words came to Sands as he expected them to, this was a considerable relief, he didn't want to go to pieces in front of these fuckers.
"Let him up," said Barillo's nephew. The boot was lifted from Sands' hand and Sands resisted the temptation to cradle his broken finger. He was hauled to his feet.
"We haven't been properly introduced," said Barillo's relative, "I am Carlos, new leader of the Barillo cartel." Sands would have thrown an insult at the man regarding his blood line but Carlos had just gripped his hand to shake it, the hand with the broken finger. Sands couldn't help inhaling sharply. He was glad he couldn't see Carlos' satisfied smirk.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" asked Carlos.
"No," said Sands.
"It's a shame you can't see this coming," said Carlos right before he drove his knee deliberately into Sands' stomach. Sands' froze before collapsing. Blood was filling his mouth. The pain exploded and laughter filled the air.
El knew it had been a trap now but they hadn't known Sands was alive until he had stepped into that room, now their attention was completely focused on him. El tried not to think about what they would be doing to him. He couldn't hear anything which meant his imagination was fortunately dulled for the time being. He had not been able to stop the agent from bolting, that was another thing to blame himself for later but right now he had to focus. El felt his gun, heavy in his hand. The timing would have to be right, if it wasn't then he would get Sands, himself and Evelyn killed. If Evelyn wasn't already dead. He crept forwards and sounds started to come to his attention. The thumping of boots on something solid, the cracking as something broke and the sounds of someone trying very hard not to scream.
Sands couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he couldn't move. He couldn't hear Carlos' men laughing at him, but Carlos himself wasn't laughing.
"You killed my cousin," said his voice and it shook with anger, "Did you think I would forget that fucker?" He forced a bleeding Sands to his feet much like Ajedrez had done last November in the hot Mexican sun.
"You killed Ajedrez," snarled Carlos, "No one gets away with hurting my family, do you hear me?"
"I'm not deaf," said Sands. His voice came out a lot weaker than he would have liked but at least he had shown he wasn't about to surrender. Carlos slapped him round the face so hard that he would have fallen had two cartel members not been holding him up. As it was he had no strength in his legs, they felt ready to give way beneath him and never hold him up again.
"Not yet you're not," said Carlos evilly. Then he laughed, a cold, malice filled laugh.
"I trust you remember Miss Evelyn Willuns." Sands' head snapped up. He ignored the spinning feeling this caused.
"I thought so," said Carlos.
"Where is she?" Sands asked panic stricken unable to stop the question from escaping his lips.
"Ah," said Carlos speaking with the same cruel amusement as Ajedrez had done, "You'll have to find her."
El could not get any closer without the cartel noticing. He was relying on instinct and right now his instinct was telling him to stay put.
Sands was thrown to the floor and that's when he heard the quiet groan. He was desperate to hear the noise again so he had a chance to locate the source. It sounded again, fainter this time but that didn't matter. He knew where it was coming from. He crawled forwards ignoring the scornful remarks from the cartel as he groped forwards to find the one person in his whole life that he had ever loved.
"You'll have to find her," Carlos repeated, he was mocking him but Sands forgot to care. All he wanted was to find her in the darkness because he was sure that it was Evelyn, so sure he would have bet everything on it. She was out there somewhere, he just couldn't see her.
The floor was cold to touch, or maybe he was just cold and it was spreading from his fingertips to the ground around him. Evelyn had groaned once more but, disorientated by the jeering above him and the numbing pain in his body, Sands had lost her location. Carlos was next to him, he could feel the man's presence beside him. He was looking down at him, he was smiling, he liked this. Sands felt very close to collapse.
"What's the matter Sands?" asked Carlos with mock concern.
"Fuck you," breathed Sands and as soon as he had said it Carlos kicked him hard in the ribs. The air was gone from his lungs and so was anything holding the pain back. This time he cried out and, from his hiding place, El heard him.
El's blood chilled. Sands was being tortured just as he had suspected but going in guns blazing right now would only get them both killed. That would be pointless. He sat tight and tried not to hear the sounds coming from the room only a few metres away.
The cartel backed off. Sands was on his back now. Every part of him was aching. Footsteps, a single set, walked towards him. He already recognised them as belonging to Carlos.
"However did you survive?" he asked, "You're pathetic." Sands could not respond.
"Tell me," said Carlos in a playful tone, "Did you really think you could save her?" There came the sound of muffled screaming and someone struggling ineffectually.
"Did you?!" Carlos shouted his voice rising like that of a mad man. Sands heard the muffled voice again and it stirred something inside of him. He rolled over and tried to stand. Carlos was watching, he was standing close by.
"That's it," he said with a laugh, "You're getting warmer." Sands could not get up so he gave that idea up. He crawled forwards thinking as he did so that he would give up being able to stand again if it meant he could reach her, if it meant she was alright.
"If only you could see yourself," said Carlos following Sands' shaky progress easily. Sands forced himself in the direction he thought he had heard Evelyn but he wasn't at all sure he was going the right way, his senses seemed to be dulled. He couldn't see how much blood he had lost when they had reopened his stomach wound but he knew it must be a lot by now. Carlos laughed again and some sixth sense warned Sands just in time. Carlos went to kick Sands again but Sands dropped low to the floor. When his foot hit nothing but air Carlos' eyes widened, the momentum carried him forwards and he fell onto the floor in an ungraceful heap. Seconds before the rest of the cartel pounced on him Sands' fingertips brushed against something. He did not have time to check but as the cartel lifted him to his feet he was certain he had just touched Evelyn's hand.
There was an awful lot of noise going on, shouting and cursing. El shifted his position from behind the pile of wooden crates next to the closed door. They would not be able to hear him move over that racket. It was almost time.
They were holding Sands while Carlos got to his feet. Carlos was beyond livid. His face had gone the colour of beetroot and he was shouting curses in both English and Spanish. He had been embarrassed by a critically injured blind man. The thought almost made Sands smile. He waited until Carlos' voice was at its loudest which meant his face was right in front of his own. The cartel had been holding him only to keep him from falling until Carlos reached him; they had not thought he would need restraining. As Sands' fist collided with Carlos' nose they realised they had been wrong but soon they had something else to worry about. As Carlos fell back, blood streaming from his face, the door to the room opened with a bang. The cartel turned to see a man pointing two guns at them, it was the last thing the four cartel members surrounding Sands ever saw.
More cartel members flooded in as El Mariachi retreated to a safer location and continued shooting. In all the confusion no one paid any attention to Sands as he dragged himself over to where Evelyn lay, a trail of scarlet marking his way. His fingers found her arm and they closed around her wrist. She wasn't moving. Gun fire and several small explosions made it impossible for Sands to hear anything as subtle as breathing so he tried to find a pulse but his hands were shaking too badly to be useful. It was very tempting to lie down next to Evelyn and sleep but Sands was still with it enough to know he couldn't let himself do that.
"Evelyn," he said his voice fearful, "Wake up." He shook her slightly but did not have the energy to do it again. Evelyn remained still. Sands felt as if someone had just turned everything off. This was a darkness deeper than anything Sands had ever known. If Evelyn did not wake up all the lights would go out forever.
"Please wake up Evelyn," he begged. He couldn't have been too late, he just couldn't have been. If only they hadn't run, if only he'd fought the cartel instead of letting Evelyn's panic make him go against his normal reaction. He took both her hands in his own. He couldn't tell whether it was hers that were as cold as ice or his own. A bullet whistled close by and Evelyn woke.
Sands felt her chest rise and fall deeply. It felt like someone was breathing life into him. Christ, she was alive, she was ok. Just then something skidded across the floor and Sands heard a thud and droplets of something warm hit his face. The item that had skidded came to rest within easy reach of Sands' good hand. He reached for it already knowing what it would be. He picked up the gun. Now it was his turn to play.
A/N: No cliffhanger, see, I'm not mean all the time. :D! If the switching POVs was confusing let me know, I read it through but you know, it's hard to objectively read your own story.
Hope everyone has a great weekend!
(Sylvia: Getting better all the time? You're too sweet! I'm very glad you're still enjoying it. You like Sands suffering, huh? Well, I hope you liked this chapter then. :) I see El as a caring person generally speaking. And don't worry about the whole email thing, I have problems trusting as well or at least I used to a lot. I'll continue to reply at the end of this fic unless you register at Of course I don't mind long reviews! The longer the better! :D! Thank you for reviewing as always...hope you enjoyed this chapter)