Chapter 5 - The Web of Betrayal
Mateo stepped into the cabin first, a cruel, mocking smirk plastered across his face. Behind him stood Ruiz, his greasy face glistening under the moonlight, and Sheriff Ochoa, his hand resting casually on the butt of his revolver.
"Well, well, sister," Mateo sneered, looking around the modest room. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Where’s your lovely husband? We heard some pretty awful screaming coming from this mountain a few nights ago."
"He's... he's in the bedroom," Clara said, her voice trembling—this time, she didn't have to fake the fear. "He's very sick, Mateo. He hasn't moved in days. I think... I think he's dying."
Ruiz and Sheriff Ochoa exchanged a quick, knowing glance. A dark, satisfied smile spread across Ruiz's face.
"Dying, you say?" Ruiz rumbled, stepping forward and tossing a crumpled piece of paper onto the wooden table. "What a tragedy. But business is business, Clara. Your father still owes me a massive sum, and since you're now part of this household, your husband's land is the only collateral left. We need you to sign this deed transfer. Just a little scribble, and we'll take this useless ranch off your hands."
Clara stared at the paper. It was a pre-drafted land deed, transferring all rights of the mountain ranch to Ruiz.
"And if I don't?" Clara asked, her voice hardening slightly.
Mateo laughed, a harsh, grating sound. He stepped closer, grabbing Clara roughly by the chin. "You don't have a choice, sister. You think anyone in town cares about a girl who was sold for 50 pesos? You sign the paper, or we bury you next to the mute. The sheriff here will write it down as a tragic double suicide. Simple."
"Leave her alone."
The voice was quiet, but it cut through the room like a razor blade.
Mateo froze. Ruiz and the sheriff gasped, their eyes darting toward the dark doorway of the bedroom.
Santiago stood there.
He wasn't slouching. He wasn't staring at the ground with a vacant, empty expression. He stood tall, his broad shoulders squared, his eyes blazing with a terrifying, lethal intensity.
"What... what did you say?" Mateo stammered, dropping his hand from Clara's chin. "You... you can speak?"
"I said," Santiago repeated, stepping into the dim light, "leave my wife alone."
"He's cured!" Ruiz shrieked, panic suddenly cracking his tough exterior. "Ochoa, kill him! Now!"
Sheriff Ochoa reached for his revolver, but Santiago was faster. With a fluid, powerful motion born of years of hard physical labor, Santiago lunged forward. He swung the heavy iron skillet Clara had used earlier, slamming it directly into the side of the sheriff’s face.
Crack!
The sheriff spun around, blood spraying from his nose as he collapsed heavily onto the floor, unconscious.
Mateo screamed in terror, reaching for a knife at his belt, but Clara didn't hesitate. She grabbed the heavy wooden chair and slammed it into her brother’s back. Mateo stumbled forward, gasping as he hit the ground.
Ruiz tried to run for the door, but Santiago blocked his path, his hand firmly gripping the hilt of his machete. The cold steel gleamed under the moonlight.
"You..." Ruiz whimpered, backing away until his spine hit the wall. "You remember... you remember everything, don't you?"
"I remember the night you helped murder Father Thomas," Santiago said, his voice cold as ice. "I remember the witch who put the demon in my ear. And I remember your faces."
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Santiago stepped closer, pressing the cold flat of the machete's blade against Ruiz's throat.
"Now," Santiago whispered, "you are going to tell us where Bernardo is. And you are going to tell us how to find the entrance to El Silencio."
