Running the tip of his tongue across his lips he motioned for another.

As Clay began his second snack, Danny used the time to take in Clay’s rugged profile.

“What?” asked Clay, without taking his eyes from the road.

Danny gave him an easy smile. “I know we’re down here on serious business but it’s good to be on the road with you again, big bro.”

Clay nodded once in agreement.

“You know, we need to talk about worst-case scenarios before we happen upon one,” said Danny. “I know there’s a good chance of Celine and the other kids being alive and well, but we’ve got to consider the crap hand as well.”

Clay’s voice was like sleet on a tin roof. “If anyone has hurt a single hair on Celine’s head I’ll bury them and piss on their grave.”

“I know, but we’re deep in cartel territory down here. Even if it’s not them we’re up against, they’ll probably want to hunt us down if we start levelling buildings and such. You know how the cartels do business; they kill people for looking at them the wrong way. If they get wind of a couple of white boys raisin’ hell in their backyard, they’ll definitely want to add our heads to the collection.”

Clay flushed red, the lattice of scars on his face standing out in angry contrast. “I can’t go home without her.”

Danny placed a hand on Clay’s shoulder. The muscles below felt like plate armour. “Don’t worry, Clay, we’ll find her and her friends.” He didn’t add, “If they’re still alive.” The unspoken words hung in the air between them.

“Jeez!” Clay slammed his foot hard on the brake pedal. Dust and gravel flew. Danny thrust out his hand against the windscreen to keep from being thrown forward against the glass. A dog had taken up residency in the middle of the road. It didn’t seem bothered by the screech of brakes.

“What is it with the dogs around here? They all got a death wish?” asked Clay.

Danny puffed out his cheeks. “I’ll move him. It may cost another packet of crisps, though.”

“Put your foot in its ass and it’ll move quick enough.”

Danny ignored Clay’s grouching. He knew Clay too was a sucker for a pooch and would never knowingly hurt one.

“No way!”

“What is it?” asked Clay, his head poking from the window.

“The dog. The dog from Chacchoben… I’m sure this is the same one.”

“That’s crazy. They all probably look the same down here,” said Clay.

“Not unless they all have the same bullet holes in their ears.” The mutt gave him a look of recognition. Danny reached out and stroked the dog between the ears. Its skull felt like a coconut beneath his fingers. Looking around, he saw no evidence of the dog hitching a ride on the back of a truck. “How the hell did you get down here?”

The dog nuzzled his hand with a dust-encrusted nose.

“Here!”

Danny caught the packet of chips that Clay cast towards him like a circus knife-thrower. The dog responded to the lure of food, tottering after Danny on legs as thin as saplings.

“Now you stay off the road, little fella. The next car that comes along may just run right over the top of you and then you’d be dead tyred.”

As Danny slid back into the passenger seat Clay gave him a sour look. “That’s the last animal that gets any of my stash.”

“Yeah, ’cos you’ve only got about fifty packets of crisps left back there. Don’t want you starving to death in the next half-hour, that would be a real tragedy.”

Danny watched the dust-covered dog in the rear-view mirror as they drove away. It turned a circle and flopped down at the side of the road. Soon it was little more than a dark splotch in the distance. “You get a chance to call home yet?”

Clay wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.