A/N: My goal is to post a chapter a day. At least until New Years. We'll see how things go.

Sciencegal - Leo needs breaks lol

CHAPTER 22: HESITENCE

Xander could barely keep his eyes open, but he'd be damned if he succumbed to the Barrier's pressure now. He leaned against a fat tree, straining to focus on two factions of Amazonian natives through a drizzle. They stood face-to-face, one painted in red, the other in blue, and all were armed with spears. The Mexican wasn't suicidal enough to approach them, especially in his current state, but he had ears and knowledge of the Nahuatl language.

"Pesto Chieftain Xiptl, Co—uh—I—we—greet you in the name of Ometeotl," a young voice said. Well, she sounded young, hesitant, although her full figure suggested she may've been as old as Beverly.

"In the name of nature's deities, we greet you, K'ekchi Chieftain Coyolxauhqui," an old man replied. He bowed his bald head with stoic features. "Your tribe has not crossed the river in generations."

"Yes, so thank you for not killing my messenger." Coyolxauhqui smiled, even though her tone trembled.

"He said you needed help. What is it you need?"

"We, uh, I know it is presumptuous to ask. But we—my people—need food."

A brief moment passed then Xiptl burst into a chuckle and tapped his spear on the ground. "Your god not treating you well? He would let you starve?"

"No; your people steal from our river!" another man interjected from the K'ekchi side. He stepped forward, yet was pulled back by a grey-hair warrior and Coyolxauhqui.

"At ease, Tlaloc," his chief told him. She then lifted her chin—it resembled an act Xander's baby cousin used when claiming to be 'old enough.' "Our god has must keep a balance," she said.

"Too busy with the universe for you?"

Coyolxauhqui sucked on her lips, bringing her spear closer.

"No matter," Xiptl continued. "Let us settle this matter quickly. K'ekchi borders have always felt unnerving."

'Tell me about it,' Xander thought with a scoff. He rubbed his face then blinked, but his hazy vision only doubled.

"Yes, our—our borders," Coyolxauhqui said. She glanced over her shoulder and Xan followed her gaze to a shoulder-high stone shaped into a hunched, oblong figure.

'Is—is that a Barrier marker?' The Hispanic stared into the statue's face until its glowing eyes became clear. 'It is. Does that mean I'm…'

Outside the Barrier. It had moved, shrunk. So why did the man feel more sore than he did after a week's worth of bear hugs from Rook?

"Our land is changing," Coyolxauhqui added. "Another, uh, tribe has ruined our hunting grounds, scared off the game."

"Towards us. We noticed." The Pesto Chieftain ran a hand through the hair below his feathered headband. "This is old news. Many tribes know of this age-long war. And we want nothing to do with it."

"Please"—Coyolxauhqui stepped forward, despite the crude spears that tipped her way—"let us hunt the outskirts. Only for what we need."

"Sounds familiar. That is what Chieftain Eztli said before he murdered my great-grandfather over a few pitzol."

"I give you my word, Chieftain. I am not the sum of my predecessors."

"That is exactly what we are," Xiptl spat. "How different have you been from those before you? You continue to war, to isolate your tribe, to follow your Ometeotl."

"I honestly believe in Ometeotl."

"And where has he led you? To the brink of extinction? Your tribe was once great. And what has it been reduced to? A hundred members? Maybe two?"

Coyolxauhqui kept quiet, and Xander's vision spun. He doubled over, breathless, lightheaded. He fought a scream, yet the throbs felt like ice picks in his brain—thin, sharp pains that bombarded him with images and sounds. A woman's scream. Fearful eyes in a mirror. A train whistle. Broken glass. A sound like snapping bones.

'Fuck!' he thought. He shook his head, blinked. Still, he could no longer see the rainforest. 'This—this isn't happening. It went away. It's not coming back. It can't! It—'

Something pointed struck his side. A root? A spear? He looked down, yet saw nothing, save a couch strained with red and brown. Warm moisture dripped down his hip. A high-pitch whirl sped by his head—a sudden, short noise that reawakened the Hispanic to the wet soil, musky air, and an army of blue-tattooed natives. They surrounded him, one bleeding from the shoulder, and he scrambled backward through the mud that suctioned his arms with every move. He reached for his plasma gun, but a toned man kicked it under a fern.

"We have no deal, Chieftain!" Xiptl cried. He and his followers kept distant, and through a slim break between Coyolxauhqui and the one named Tlaloc, Xander watched them back away. "Xolotl haunts the K'ekchi. The Pesto Tribe will not follow you to the underworld!"

"Wait!" Coyolxauhqui screamed. She twisted, a hand raised, yet the Pesto people retreated before she could stand. "Please," she whispered, "the children…"

"You"—Tlaloc turned his anger on Xander with a smooth, metal spear—"filthy Yaoqui. Why are you here?"

"Are you the one setting traps?" the gray-haired warrior asked. He pushed the Mexican deeper into the mud with his foot. "Have you driven our food away?"

"Barrier's shrinking, huh?" Xander asked in Nahuatl. They all seemed surprised that he understood. Made sense; they had no idea his grandparents had been keen on preserving their Amazonian roots.

"I have seen you inside Xelihuiyan," a female warrior added. "How?"

"Trade secret," Xander answered. He chuckled then coughed as the weight on his chest increased.

"Do you understand your actions?" Coyolxauhqui questioned. What was with the pitiful look?

Xan sneered, saying, "We all have orders. I'm no different."

"Just kill him," Tlaloc said.

"Rashness is the way of folly, Tlaloc," countered the gray-haired warrior.

"Tatli"—Tlaloc cringed—"Yaolt, he is too dangerous to keep in the village."

Yaolt met his son's stare, bright eyes stony. "He walks Xelihuiyan. If other Yaoqui can as well, we must discover why."

A one way ticket to becoming some natives' private guinea pig? No thank you.

Xander's leg swung to fold around Tlaloc's spear. The weapon's tip dug into his wounded side, but he held firm until the warrior was disarmed. He followed up with a strike against Yaolt's shin then rolled to his feet as the man faltered. He dove for his plasma gun; it was his only chance against thirty-some strong force. But his bad leg caved and Tlaloc interceded with a punch that made his nose crunch.

No! He couldn't lose. He couldn't die. Liz was at home. He wouldn't let Leukemia take her while all alone, no matter the cost.

Everything stopped—the rainfall, the warriors, the spears, Xander's heart. Then, with Lizbeth at the forefront of the man's thoughts, it all sped up. An invisible force swelled outwards with such force that the rain sprayed sideways in a sphere. It sent the natives sailing, twisting, flipping, and screaming. Xander's body burned as they hit tree trunks, but he knew he couldn't linger. He struggled to his knees, double vision returning.

'Xander Ruiz Rodriguez Santiagola la Arroyo Hyde, you do not want this.'

Xander looked up at a lanky body with skin so translucent its blue-white veins were visible. It wore no clothes, although it was easy to figure out why; Languu lacked any genitals to hide.

"Wh—who?" The Mexican swallowed. "How the fuck are you in my head, Jincho? Get out!"

'Your head is the reason I can hear you so loudly,' the alien replied. Its freakish voice sounded like every person Xan had ever known, all speaking at once. He could tell by Liz's soft undertone and the gruffness of his dead mother.

"Doubt it," Xander whispered. "Your kind doesn't even come out during the day. I'm just going crazy. My mind isn't used to—"

'Psychic influxes?'

"I'm not psychic."

'You deny it even outside your superior's realm of influence?'

"Piss off!" Xander stood, fighting against lethargy and pain. He must be hallucinating from one too many trips inside the Barrier. The Jincho would leave if he moved, reported to Agent Rook.

'And Rook will reward you? Or will he pressure you for an answer as to how you knocked the entire Tonalquizca force out cold?'

"What do you care?" And why was he talking to a figment of his imagination?

'You know I am real, Xander. Just as you know the truth behind why you can walk inside our walls.'

"Actually"—Xan stumbled—"I don't know that."

The alien hummed. 'You do not share the other's motives. You are not here for greed or wrath or revenge. You are here for love. For Lizbeth.'

"Don't say her name!"

'You think you will see her again if you remain on Rook's good side?' the stupid thing continued. It glowed brighter in the scarce rain. 'He cannot heal her. I can.'

"Wh—" Xan found it hard to breathe. "What?"

'If I received permission from others of my kind, I could.'

"Bullshit."

'It is true. There is an element in my veins. It restores cells.'

"Oh?" The man smirked. "Guess I know what I'll ask the scientists to mine first. When Rook levels your little sanctuary to the ground."

'You are scared.'

The Languu rendered every step Xander took backward moot by following him. He glared at its black-pit eyes and stopped when his foot clanked against something. His plasma gun. Perfect. He kicked it upwards, catching it and poising it at the alien's head with precision.

'You will be discovered,' it continued.

"And why the hell does that concern you?"

The Languu paused, allowing distance to grow between it and the man. 'What is the most profound thing a being can do?' it asked. But it didn't wait for an answer. 'Help another soul. Change a life. Is that not what you are seeking to accomplish with your lover?'

"I…" Xan realized how unsteady his body had grown when he glanced down. Forget it; he didn't have time to listen to the ravings of a crazy alien or enough tenacity to shield himself from a dying Languu. So he turned and ran without a second thought.

"Wait, Coyo, let me get that for you."

Coyolxauhqui watched Leonardo, hissing when her sore body fell back on her floor mat. "Thank you," she whispered as he handed over a canteen.

"Would you rather have water?" he asked.

Coyo never answered; she uncorked the canteen then brought it to her split lips. Even though the alcohol burned the cuts inside her mouth, she kept chugging until her throat grew numb and her lungs deflated. With the last gulp, she coughed, wiping her chin and cringing at her tender ribs.

Leo waited a moment before speaking again. "I'm sorry for what happened," he said.

"No Leo fault," Coyo replied. She re-corked the canteen then turned her focus to the fire pit's flames. "Coyo fault."

"Don't start the blame game. It wasn't your fault."

If that were so, then why did the Chieftain feel as if she had sentenced her entire tribe to a slow death?

"Look"—the turtle-man sat at Coyo's feet—"we can be sorry without blaming ourselves. I—I have to believe that. If I'm going to get any better, I have to. So you…"

Leo trailed off with a slow exhale, and the woman's skin tightened with heat either from the Chicha or the fire. "Coyo fail," she said. "Tribe no better. Worse. Refused. Now we fight Pesto for food, hunt Yaoqui land."

"Outside Xelihuiyan?"

"Xelihuiyan shrinking."

"Is that what you, uh…see?" Leo caught the young woman's gaze with a gentle look only for a second.

"K'ekchi ancestors touch by Teo. We see what others cannot. But eyes no tell Coyo Xelihuiyan weak. She feel it. All K'ekchi feel it. We dwindle. Teo no have energy. They die too. Without us, Xelihuiyan useless."

"Right. You protect the Languu and the Languu charge those…"

"Tepiani."

Leo nodded twice. "That's the word Huitzi used. It's also the name of those statues my sister collects."

"Xelihuiyan's guardian stones much bigger. We help Teo charge them, and, yes, they come closer to village."

"If the perimeter becomes too small…"

Coyo shook her head, gripping her bloody knees as the fire crackled.

"Coy—"

" Pesto Chieftain right," the young woman interjected. Her lower jaw trembled and she glared at the crackling flames. "Consider Coyo bloodline. Great-Colli make war with Yaoqui and allies. Citli 'solve' trouble with isolation. Auitl run away. T—T—Tatli go insane. And Mantli want me to throw away emotion. Wha—?" Coyo tried to swallow yet failed. "What good Coyo do? Huitzi better chief. He no accept. He sick and...and when he gone—"

Coyo was unable to finish; just imagining life without her brother left her empty, raw. No one could stand beside her with the same comfort he gave, not even Izel, and she feared the space would remain vacant forever.

"I no leader," she whispered. "Tonalquizca hurt. Why? Because I no want death. I—I want reason, to help. I…"

"Have you ever killed anyone, Coyo?"

"Once." The Chieftain closed her heavy eyes in hopes Leo would drop the subject, but he touched her foot, reminded her she wasn't alone.

"I know what you're going through," he said, a little stern. "That pain is the reason I'm here. When I arrived last Wet Season"—the turtle-man paused, maybe because he realized that was long ago—"I wanted to rot. I've been numb, hurt, angry, an—and my mind's fractured. Who knows if that will ever heal? But…I'm trying. You know who convinced me to do that?"

Coyo's eyes felt bloated and stung and watered, yet she opened them anyway. Leo stared back, his red-brown gaze enrapturing. She lost her voice as it bore into her, so she shook her head in answer to his question.

He smiled, saying, "You. You started…everything. Picked me up. Welcomed me. Introduced me to your tribe, Zaddir. Made me feel like a person. I know, I know; you think that's odd. But you also understand what it's like when others look at you as a leader. You become a symbol, someone who can't afford flaws. We have them, though. We have so many, and"—the turtle-man rubbed the sides of his bald head—"we need help to cope. If you won't speak with your brother or Izel or even the Elders…I'm here."

"You?"

"Why not? We talk about almost everything else." Leo's grip on Coyo's foot tightened as his smile grew. She fought the urge to return it, except it was as compelling as his stare and he showed no signs of leaving. "You've been hiding," he added. "Maybe not in the same way Nia did. Close, though. Guess that's what you cousins have in common."

"Co—cousins?"

"Yeah. Turns out, my brother's girlfriend is actually your runaway aunt's daughter. Zaddir confirmed it. And she's gone through a lot, stuff I haven't told you about. Actually." The turtle-man straightened, still touching his friend. "Would you like to hear her story?"

"Please," Coyo whispered. "Tell Coyo."