Across the Desert

**Chapter 4: The Predator and the Prey**

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Before the family of Alvarez lay an unending expanse of desert, which was devoid of life and quite severe. As the family made their way down the mountains, the heat became more intense, and there was again, a change in the area. The meager shade cast by the cliffs was soon replaced with endless desert areas, where every hill seemed like a desolate wasteland. There was no time to stand in wonder of the land – survival was the only focus.

Juan browsed the place. He could see the plain sand and one cactus here and there but something was disconcerting him. The atmosphere was oddly quiet, as if the desert was holding its breath. The coyote was even more nervous than usual, his steps were more imperative.

“We need to keep moving,” said the coyote. An urgent tone, attaching an eerie factor to his calm and authority, characterized his voice. He was pushing himself ahead with his eyes being fixed to the front at any cost. “Now, we’re on a volatile sequence of land. Here is a hunting region of wild animals, and soon also the sun will burn intolerably.”

Maria’s hold on Sofia’s hand was so tense her fingers turned white. The fatigued children did not complain; their small faces appeared to be drained under the heat of the sun. Diego, held in Juan’s arms, was already in troubled slumber, his face drooping under the force of slipping steps. Every father’s anxiety crept into their hearts — their children’s frailty in the unforgiving environment was overwhelming.

“Stay close,” Juan whispered to Maria. He sounded very serious, but she was aware of the anxiety that was hidden behind his vocalization. They were dumping into a fearsome world where the unknown would be the boss; a bit of fear looked firsthand into his heart.

In the hot, dry desert, it is common to see signs of dehydration often. As heat conditions escalate, human sweat drops start to be seen on their foreheads and the voice of some complaining about the thirst can also be heard. Moreover, they realize that there is little water being stored. Whenever they drink, people are marking their limits just like the bloody war that has left them almost helpless in the moments of refilling.

Unexpectedly, the coyote came and stood still. He bent down to give a signal to the other guys to move like him. He did the same observation as a hawk and his body became tense like a predator on its victim.

“What is it?” asked Juan lowering his voice just to a whisper.

The coyote kept quiet for a while. Then he raised his hand to indicate silence. After what seemed to endure for hours, he pointed towards a hill in the outskirts where a solitary man was moving quickly.

“Coyotes,” he mumbled, though it was not about the animal he signified. In fact, he was alluding to the human smugglers, merciless persons who exploited the weakness of the migrants. “They are keeping an eye on us.”

Despite the heat, a cold shiver ran down Juan’s spine. He had been told of such men - stories with the themes of robbery, violence, and even worse. Smugglers would give the impression of helping migrant workers but would lead them into situations where death was the only escape. They were as treacherous as the desert itself.

“Are they going to follow us?” Maria asked tremulously.

“Not yet,” said the coyote. “But they are tracking us down. We should hit the trail with greater intensity.”

The speed of the group picked up, the bodies were pumped full of adrenaline. Each shadow appeared to be a threat lurking in the dark, every noise was amplified in the desert which was stifling just from the heat alone. Although tiredness was noticeable in the children, they were carried by their parents. The parents were obviously the ones in charge, the very urgency they displayed didn't leave a chance for their kids to even complain about their heavy feet.

The time was up, so they tried to look like they were going to be resting on the futon but they were utterly defeated. They were not able to rest as the sun shone too hard. They felt that their chill would slowly turn into rage and bitterness. In the moment when they thought they could not advance any longer, another menace entered the scene.

Juan was first to hear it — a low growl transmitted by the air. He initially thought the wind whistled through the sand. But after a bit of time, the growl came again, this latter one was louder and closer. He dropped his glance down the coyote's face which had just turned white as a lily.

“Mountain lions,” the coyote said, his voice merely a whisper. “They’re stalking us.”

Panic streaked across Maria. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She held Sofia and Diego close. “What do we do?”

“The coyote looked around the landscape with his restless eyes, looking for any sign of safety. "We need to go to a higher place. Now," he said.

The growling sounds faded left, the animals became more visible. They weren't just stalking them; they were getting very close. The coyote grasped Maria by the elbow, and forcibly shook her up a pretty high hill. Hurriedly Juan followed behind, carrying Diego, but Sofia desperately clutched her mother's side, her tiny pedals struggling to keep time.

On reaching the summit of the dune, a quick movement pulled Juan's attention away from the past. Crouching at the base of the slope were two smooth, tawny bodies whose luminous eyes betrayed the hunger of a predator. Mountain lions — slim and fierce, nature's evolution of superior instruments to survive the hidden thirsty desert.

Out of it, the coyote brought out a knife from his pocket and he was quite firm or serious on his face. "Stand back." He commanded them. "Don't run. To the contrary, running will incite them."

The mountain lions took their place beneath the kids, their muscles primed and prepared for the deadly leap. Juan was overwhelmed with emotions as he concentrated on their round eyes. The animals were suffering from hunger, and one could tell by looking at their ribs protruding under the skin. They perceived the group as an easy meal and were determined to go for it.

At that instance, the desert parasitically awaited an event. Then, one of the lions abruptly bolted with high velocity.

The coyote, quickly thinking, parked himself between the lion and the family. He made a noise with his head in the air, trying to frighten the lion. The lion's initial response was to be taken aback a little with curiosity in its amber eyes; it was assessing the degree of the danger.

Maria was hiding the children beneath her, her heart beating inaudibly. Meanwhile, Juan was the commander of the situation, who had his mind going around solutions. They were surrounded and couldn't take on such a demon. On the other hand, sending the unarmed coyote, at least, was a way to defend themselves.

The second lion was in motion, closely following the first one, both moving like shadows and predators. Juan's body was under unbearable tension; every nerve told him to run, yet he also heard the coyote vibrating with the tenor of correctness as he said he won't flee, and he would not be the one to make matters worse.

And just as the first two lions rushed at them, an unexpected noise pierced the surrounding air - the roar of an engine. The sound swept the air, and its relief was remarkable, like finally breaking free from the bondage of an invisible net. The lions, truly religious masters, were stationary and confused as they caught some unusual noise by their ears. The coyote took advantage of that and made his move.

“Run!” he screamed. “Right away!”

As Juan pulled Maria's arm, they quickly climbed the opposite side of the dune, escaping from the lions. The engine's roar became more deafening, and before long, a black SUV appeared on the horizon, rushing towards them at full speed.

The lions, alarmed by the noise, turned and hastily bolted into the desert, their mighty bodies vanishing into the sandy landscape. Overwhelmed with relief, the family lay at the summit of the dune, their bodies quaking.

However, their comfort was temporary. The SUV squealed to a halt just below the dune, and out of it came three ominous-looking men, well-equipped with weapons. The coyote scowled.

“Smugglers,” he mumbled. “Keep behind me.”

The leader of the group, a tall man with a scar on his face, approached them with a sneer. “It looks like you could use some help,” he said, his voice filled with disdain.

“We don't want any problem,” Juan said, stepping forward.

The man chortled, a guttural, rough sound. “Problem? O amigo, you already found one.”

The coyote stood in front of Juan with a knife still in his hand. “We are not interested in your offering. Leave us alone.”

There was a strong tension between the two groups. The smugglers regarded the family as vultures scrutinizing their victim. As Juan realized the nightmare was not yet over, but had just begun, his heart began to race.

The desert was cruel, and so were the men who roamed its periphery.

This trip was far from over.