The sun was setting again when he woke up and climbed out from the shade of the rock where he had slept. José drank the last of his water and ate the last of his food. He now had nothing. He would have to reach a town with three of four hours or he would die. He made himself keep taking just another step and another and another. As he was walking, a helicopter flew over him. He ran to the bushes next to the road and rolled underneath them. The helicopter hovered over him for a long moment, and then flew away. He crawled back out from under the bushes and kept on walking. Then suddenly, up ahead he saw a white pick-up truck parked on the side of the dirt road – people! They would help him, surely. He hurried towards it. “Help! Help me!” He shouted.
Two men in front of the truck turned at the shouts. Both of them were holding guns. One of them pointed his gun at José and yelled something in English. José didn’t understand. “Help!” He yelled again.
The other man asked in Spanish, “Are you American or Mexican?
José paused, and then answered truthfully, “Mexican.”
The men waited until José was close then stepped out to meet him – and put a gun to his head. “If you’re Mexican, what are you doing in America?”
José raised his hands, trembling with fear. “I came to find work.”
“You came to take jobs away from the Americans. I ought to shoot you right here.”
“Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.” José begged, falling to his knees.
The man laughed and kicked José in the stomach. “We are the Minutemen. We defend our country from dogs like you.”
José felt sick with pain and thirst. “Water. Please give me water.”
The Minutemen just laughed again and hit him blow after blow. José knew he had to get out of there or they would kill him. He rolled over, got to his feet, and ran away from the road. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” One of them yelled after him.
José kept running, gasping for air through his cracked and dry lips. Bang! Bang! He dodged the shots and topped the hill. They were coming after him, their feet sliding on the gravel. José was too thirsty to run far, he was about to faint. In his panic, he saw two border patrol guards coming up the hill in front of him. Between José and the guards was a gulley. He hesitated, not sure which direction to run. Bang! The Minutemen fired again and José felt a hard blow to his shoulder. He yelled in pain and tumbled into the gulley.
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