Hopefully I can get far with this one.
Even after hoping over it was still hot as shit. Everyone scattered as soon as the coyote dropped the load off as the agents were tracking the truck for awhile. Luckily you were able to keep some provisions as you didn't have to cross the desert like all the other unlucky souls who didn't have the money to pay for a ride. Dying of heatstroke after getting lost in the desert was a pretty shitty death that you didn't want to befall upon yourself.
You wouldn't waste the trouble your dad had to go through to get you across as it could have been him that went across, he could have earned more money than you in a flash with his work ethic, but he got you to go. You didn't have a direction to go to, you didn't have any contacts inside to help you, It was you and this land of chance. You could go anywhere, from the east to the west. Your dad gave you the goal to live a better life. You had the goal of making money to someway get the rest of the family across.
Money always held a way, at least that's what your cousin Rico always said as lived the cholo life with Los Zetas. Thanks to his connections he was able to get you a free ride in, though he couldn't help you on the inside, any Mexican Zeta's inside the U.S were to busy drug smuggling and didn't want anything to risk their money schemes. Maybe that would be a good way to get money first, but getting involved with the cartel was a life long commitment as you've seen the heads piled together from the last battle taken place of control of the neighboring village from your home town.
You only had two hundred U.S dollars. That was a fucking lot considering your families state, but Rico was able to get me hooked. You didn't do much research on the U.S, just Rico's advice to try going as far North as you could whether it be to the West or East. The chances where overwhelming, but you had to start step by step.
You couldn't get caught.
You wouldn't get caught.
