Once a young boy left at a campsite in the mountains of Idaho is now a Lieutenant in a Mexican drug cartel.
It's hard to remember when I was left, or even why I or how I survived. I do recall the 2 men that picked me up and put me on the path I find myself on today. Both are long passed dead one at my hand and the other by a DEA agent we encountered at the border of Texas. That was ten years ago I think, not 100% sure but it's close enough.
Let me go back to the start.... I remember going into the outhouse at the campground and emerging to an empty campsite. Looking around to see that my parents and siblings were nowhere to be seen brought on the tears and the screaming. I ran to the road and looked both ways and not a car or even a sound! As you can imagine crying and screaming didn't help but I was just a boy no more than seven or eight? I walked on the road for what seemed like hours but could have just been minutes and then I heard a noise. Was it, my family? Was that the sound of the station wagon I hated but now it was a sound I ran towards. I think it was red bit this was a truck and those men were not my parents!
Fear is stronger when you're a child and your reaction isn't usually good and mine was sheer panic! I was frozen and in the middle, A one-lane road facing a truck don't recognize and men that looked as scared as I was. When the truck stopped I ran into the woods and tipped and I must have hit my head because when I woke up I wasn't in a truck I was in a bed.