The League of the Jaguar

Elias shifted restlessly on the blanket-covered pallet that served as a bed. The incessant itch of mosquito bites woke him again. Had sleep not been so elusive, he might not have heard the faint noise from the direction of the building’s entrance. It was a muffled cry of fear that stopped abruptly.

Creeping quietly across the floor, Elias put his eye to the keyhole. It was one of those that required an old-fashioned skeleton key and allowed him a small range of vision. It was more than he could see through the tiny spot someone had scratched off on the paint-covered, barred windows.

At first, all Elias could make out was light flickering in the hallway. He scratched absently at one of his bites. A deep, drawn-out rumbling reverberated through the hall, sending icy chills down Elias’ spine. He could only describe it as a low, breathy sawing sound.

A creature prowling low to the ground came into view. Tawny fur, a white underbelly, and darker orangey rosettes ringed in black covered the feline form. Huge paws padded silently on the stone tiles. Or they would be silent if it were possible to hear anything past the continuous guttural growl.

Startled, Elias sucked in a deep breath. The jaguar paused mid-stride, swinging its head around to peer at the door with glowing green eyes. It stopped growling long enough to snuffle at the keyhole, sending Elias scrabbling back in terror to land on Josué’s pallet. At twelve, he was still young enough to be scared, although he didn't like to admit it.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Josué groaned, trying to push Elias away.

“Shhhhh.” Elias put a hand over the boy’s mouth in a panic as the guttural rumbling began anew.

Josué sat up, looking toward the door. “What the hell is that?” he whispered. His voice squeaked at the end. Well, into his fourteenth year, Josué’s voice had deepened, but still occasionally betrayed him.

“It's a jaguar,” Elias replied in a wavering tone.

“I want to see the jaguar!” Felix rushed to peek through the keyhole. At nine, he was the youngest of the boys. Felix clung to a cheerful demeanor in an attempt to survive their captivity. Either that, or he was touched in the head.

The others were stirring now. Marco moaned as he sat up. He was still nursing bruised ribs from when Arturo caught him trying to hold back a portion of his wages from the farm. The thirteen-year-old was the only one who dared to attempt that.

“It's not normal for a jaguar to come this close to a human settlement, unless it's particularly hungry,” Marco said. “I know we are on the outskirts of the village, but still.”

Josué nodded. “I wonder how it got past the Gorilla of the day.” That was what they called the heavily muscled lackeys who took turns guarding the door to the compound.

Unmanly shrieks sounded from the main part of the house, forestalling a response to Josué’s comment. As absurd as the thought was, Elias felt oddly amused that the men who had forced them into unwilling labor were as scared as he was at that moment.

Gunfire erupted. Someone screamed from across the hall where the girls were kept. The noise from Arturo’s section continued for several minutes, and then it was silent, aside from whimpering from the girls’ room.

“There goes Dolores, crying again,” Marco scoffed with a shaky voice.

Elias thought Marco’s comment was rich, as, at that point, all the boys were huddled together in the corner in terror. They breathed huskily, trying to get up the courage to move.

“Surely, the jaguar didn't survive the gunfire, right?” Eleven-year-old Cedro asked. “I mean, they had to have hit it.”

Rafa shook his head. “An injured jaguar could be even more dangerous. If they didn't manage to kill it first, they might not have survived the encounter.” He was twelve and the newest addition to their group. Rafa didn't talk about his life before, but they had discovered he was well-studied in subjects involving flora and fauna.

“If everyone has been killed, how are we getting out of here?” Elias asked. There was no response, but Josué looked determined.

At that moment, they heard quiet footsteps in the hallway. The sound of movement stopped in front of their door. There was a scraping sound as a key slid into the lock, followed by a sharp click.

The boys cringed, not knowing what was to follow. Was it one of Arturo’s men? Would they be punished for the attack? They had been locked in their room all night and couldn't possibly have been involved, but that wouldn't matter to their captors.

The footsteps started again, moving away and toward the servants’ entrance. Once the sounds disappeared, Josué crept forward and turned the doorknob. He slowly pulled the door open and peeked into the hall.

After looking both directions, he gestured to the other boys to follow him. Elias shivered as he stepped out of the room.

There were bloody prints on the floor. Pawprints went in the direction of Estevon’s area. A line of small shoeprints meandered the other direction.

“I don't think the jaguar came back this way,” Elias commented.

The twins, Tácito and Tomás, tried to look brave as they peered down the hall, as if expecting to see the feline watching them. Elias had never heard Tácito utter a word. Tomás had always spoken for both of them. They were barely eleven and inseparable.

Josué nodded toward the main rooms. “I’m going to let the girls out. Take the others and go check things out. Just be careful. The jaguar could still be alive.” He took the key from the lock and moved to the door across the hall.

Elias could feel his entire body shaking as he tiptoed to the entryway to Arturo’s quarters. The other boys walked in a bunch behind him. They were met with a grisly scene.

Arturo’s body lay in a pool of blood. His throat had been ripped out. Alberto was face down on the floor, his lifeless hand barely touching the butt of his gun. Rueben sprawled nearby. His entrails spilled from where his stomach used to be. The animal responsible for the carnage was nowhere in sight.

Cedro made a retching sound and fled back down the hall. Marco directed the others to stuff the cash lying on the table into their pockets. Then they headed toward the kitchen to pack up all the food they could carry.

Elias let out a frightened yelp as Rueben’s hand closed weakly around his ankle. The man’s eyes looked haunted.

“La Jaguar Fantasma,” Rueben uttered with a gurgle, then went still. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

The boys stared at each other in shock. Elias remembered his mother telling him stories about The Phantom Jaguar before she got sick and died.

Legend had it that she wandered through the Americas, hidden in the shadows. Unlike most tales of supernatural beings, the Phantom Jaguar was not used to instill fear in kids to get them to behave. Rather, she was the savior of women and children subject to insufferable conditions.

According to the tales, she was Nahul, a shapeshifter. One moment, she was a beautiful woman, then the next, a jaguar. They said she could travel by way of the underworld, which explained why the stories abounded even in areas where jaguars weren't likely to roam.

Children like Elias and his friends were held against their will and made to work on the local farms. Arturo took all of their wages from them. They were locked in their rooms when they weren't working their fingers to the bone. As far as food was concerned, they were only given the bare minimum required to keep them alive.

So yeah, if Elias had actually believed in the stories of The Phantom Jaguar, he would have been praying every night for her to intervene. If the legends were true, why were there so many kids living on the streets and in danger of being snatched up and enslaved or trafficked?

As the boys returned to the hall, laden with food and money, Felix skipped forward. “Josué, it was The Phantom Jaguar! She saved us.”

Josué studied the younger boy briefly before Marco filled him in on what had happened in the other room.

“No matter. We need to leave before someone comes to check on things here. Arturo still has other men in his service.” Josué shrugged. “We should steer clear of the farms until we get far enough away not to be recognized. There’s no telling how many of them were aware that we were his slaves.”

Elias glanced at the girls, whose expressions ranged from horrified to determined.

At fourteen, Marta was the eldest of the girls. She held tiny Nina and Dolores, of the perpetually tear-stained face, against her. Elias had seen the way Arturo looked at Marta and was doubly glad that the man was dead.

Téo stepped up to them, pulled a purloined sweet out of his pocket, and handed it to Nina, who was only eight and the baby of the group. They all spoiled her, but Teo was generous to a fault, often going without food to make sure the others ate.

Ximenia watched quietly from behind them. While she did actually speak, she often chose not to outside of her peers. Elias noticed that the ten-year-old liked to blend into the background. Ximenia provided Josué with information about their captors, which had gotten them out of punishment on several occasions.

Ramona walked with Josué as they slipped past the corpse of the Gorilla guard, otherwise known as Eduardo. They were talking animatedly, but Elias couldn't make out what they were saying. For her thirteen years, Ramona was very intelligent. They tended to defer to her judgment.

“Well, I don't care what anyone says,”Fia announced as she came up beside Elias. Her eyes practically sparkled with emotion. “I’m glad they are dead.”

“Yeah, me too,” Elias replied as he handed her a sack of food to carry.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Elias shook his head. “I don’t know. Jesué will get us somewhere safe.”

Fia hefted the bag so that most of the weight was carried on her back. She glowered, as if she didn't put much stock in safe spaces.

“If you get the chance, are you going to go home?” Elias asked, almost dreading the answer. He’d always liked Fia. Even though she was still eleven, she was only a few months younger than he was.

“Not a chance. Life at home wasn't much better than this. My mother didn't pick her boyfriends well. That's why I ran away to begin with.” Fia replied. “What about you?”

Elias smiled without humor. “Nah. I don’t have a home to go back to. It was just me and my mom. I ended up on the street after she died.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, slipping her hand into his.

“Me too,” Elias replied. “I mean, I’m sorry about what you went through.”

A flicker of movement caught his eye. When Elias turned his head to see what had grabbed his attention, he found himself staring at a young woman standing under a street light. She was almost supernaturally beautiful even at a distance.

Dark, nearly black hair flowed down her back, aside from a section braided into a crown on her head. Her tanned complexion spoke of mixed heritage. Her eyes glowed green for a moment, like when the jaguar was looking toward the door to their prison.

Elias wasn't sure if it was just a play of the light and shadows surrounding her, but it almost looked like she was covered in blood. The woman held a finger to her lip, begging silence.

He looked down as he stumbled slightly over something in his path. When he glanced back, the woman was gone.

Elias realized that he was squeezing Fia’s hand. Then again, she was gripping his just as tightly.

“Was that…?” Fia asked.

“It's probably better if we don't know,” Elias said.

They rushed to catch up with the others. As far as they could tell, no one else had noticed the woman.

It wasn’t until the group stopped, hidden in a thick grove of trees, that Elias realized he had forgotten about the mosquito bites. The events of the night had completely taken his mind off of them. Now the itch came back with a fury.

Elias writhed and scratched at the bites. Rafa looked up from where he was spreading some goop on Marco’s bruises. He wrapped a strip of cloth around the boy’s ribcage to hold the stuff in place, then walked over to Elias.

“Here,” Rafa said, handing Elias a large leaf holding the remnants of the goo. “Rub a little of this onto the bites. It will stop the itching.”

“Thanks,” Eliss replied. Fia helped him spread the paste on the areas he couldn't reach. He sighed in relief as the stuff kicked in.

“Listen up,” Josué said as they were gathered around a small fire, eating a meal of their most perishable food items. “Ramona thinks we should head to Yelapa, and I agree. It's a small town. The people there might be more willing to help us. And even if they don’t, we can easily catch fish and other seafood, provided we can find shelter.

“And what if we don’t want to follow you and Ramona?” Marco grumbled.

Josué met Marco’s stare. “You are all free to go wherever you want. Most of us don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Marta gave Marco a pleading look. “We are family now. We should stick together.”

“Don’t mind me,” Marco said with a sigh. “I’m sore, tired, and grumpy. All I meant was we should take a vote.”

“Agreed,” Josué replied. “Who wants to go to Yelapa?”

Everyone’s hands shot into the air, with the exception of Nina, who had fallen asleep with her head on Marta’s lap.

It took several days to reach the coast. They kept to the less populated areas to avoid being caught up in anyone else’s web.

When they needed food, they helped themselves to what they could find in the fields. They went in by night and only took what they required. Once, Marco snuck into a hen house and returned laden with eggs. It was still barely enough to keep them going.

By the time they were making their way across a secluded beach, they were hungry, tired, and filthy. Filled with the relief of reaching their destination, the kids ran, laughing, into the waves.

Later, as they sat around a crackling fire on the beach, they filled their bellies with fish. Luckily, Tácito and Tomás came from a family of fishermen and were skilled at catching them. They had never told the others about how they had wound up in Arturo’s hands.

Josué dragged a stick in the golden sands, making random patterns. “I think we should find a family to take Nina and Felix into the village and find a family to take them in.”

“No!” Nina cried. “I want to stay with you.”

Felix wore an uncommon frown. “Me too. I don't trust anyone else.”

Josué sighed. “It’s going to be difficult. We need to find shelter. With a family, you will have food and a bed.”

“We are a family, Josué,” Marta insisted. “After what we’ve been through, there is no guarantee that whoever you leave them with won’t sell them to another Arturo.”

Elias agreed with her. He didn't want to see their group broken up, and he would do whatever he had to ensure the safety of the younger kids.

“I would make sure they are trustworthy,” Josué argued. After seeing the looks the others gave him, he tossed the stick onto the fire. “Fine. We all stick together.”

Ramona smiled at him. “We should explore the village. We might be able to find an abandoned house or something that would work. The money we took from Arturo should last us a while. The older kids can take odd jobs to earn more when it runs out.”

“I think we should form our own army or whatever,” Marco said.

“What?” Elias laughed. “Why would we do that?”

“We can go around rescuing other kids from people like Arturo,” Marco replied. “We‘ll call ourselves The League of the Jaguar and wear masks like ninjas.”

Everyone began chattering excitedly. Josué waved his hand to get their attention. “While I actually like this idea, it will be a long time before we can do that. It’s not like the Phantom Jaguar will keep showing up to help us. We’ll need to learn how to fight.”

Fia leaped up and grabbed a couple of small branches. She tossed one to Elias, then challenged him to a sword fight. “C’mon, let’s see what you got.”

“Alright, Zorro.” Elias could barely stand, let alone parry her thrusts. He was laughing too hard. “I don't think this is what Josué meant.”

Soon, everyone was running around the beach smacking each other with sticks. Before the jaguar had rescued them, things looked grim. Now, Elias thought they might actually be okay.