More Strangeness in the Borderlands

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Anecdotes shared by Rocky Elmore and other former Border Patrol staff have shed light on the growing number of haunting incidents which have taken taken place in America's southern border region.

This raises questions over whether the entities that have been witnessed and encountered there are supernatural or far more tangible in nature.

Join us as we explore more Border Patrol stories, and in the second half of this episode, exclusive to the podcast series, hear tales from the Mexican side of the border.

During the mid-1990s, Border Patrol agents based in California's Ote Mountain region found themselves involved in a series of inexplicable and unnerving events.

These would involve encounters with many terrified and traumatized groups of migrants, several of which seem to have encountered the ghost of one of their recently deceased colleagues.

But it has become increasingly clear in the years since these stories were first shared that such incidents are not confined solely to the San Diego region.

At the same time those events were occurring, agents at different points all along the same border were experiencing similar mysterious encounters.

One of these incidents would take place near to a river crossing at Fort Hancock in Texas, where patrols would regularly detain groups of Mexican nationals trying to enter the United States.

The small migrant processions there would sometimes use a wide bridge spanning the Rio Grande in order to assist with their crossing.

One night, the officers who had been posted to patrol the river were notified of a group of six intruders sighted by the operator of a nearby imaging device.

Situated upon an area of higher ground overlooking the river, the agent using the night vision vision scope observed the group wading into the water.

They had positioned themselves directly underneath the bridge, in the hope that it would hide their progress before finally emerging up onto the American side of the river.

Hurrying down to that location, the Border Patrol agents radioed up to the scope operator asking for the direction in which the group had headed away from the bridge.

But then they received a slightly confusing reply, stating that the group in question had not made any effort to escape, and had instead remained huddled together beneath the structure.

When the American agents arrived, they duly located a soaking wet group of four adults and two young children sheltering against one of the concrete supports on the riverbank.

But their efforts to extract the group met with extreme resistance.

the adults holding on tight to their children and refusing to move away from the bridge.

Eventually, the group related in broken English how they had been about to head off towards some higher ground when they had heard a horrifying sound.

A female voice howling and screeching in the night had seemed to follow them across the river from the direction they had come.

They believed this to be the vengeful spirit of La Yorona.

a woman who had drowned her two children in a fit of jealous rage and now sought others to replace them.

Seeking protection from the light of the street lamps on the bridge above, they refused to leave the safety provided by the would-be shelter, wanting to remain until daylight arrived.

They were fearful that the vengeful spirit that was following them would use the cover of darkness to abduct the two children they were escorting as part of their group.

Almost at that instant, a deafening scream surged from the darkness towards them, causing the migrant group to cling even harder to the bridge supports, whispering that the agents had drawn the spirit to them.

Yelling into his radio, one of the agents demanded to know if the scope operator had seen anything in the vicinity of the group that could have made such a sound.

The subsequent response was that the six migrants and the agents themselves were the only thermal signatures to be seen for miles around.

The ground surrounding the river, at this point being barren and featureless, had offered no apparent hiding place for any other person.

Taking hold of the six individuals, the three agents then began to manhandle the group back towards their waiting vehicles.

However, they were again assaulted by a deafening howl of indignation and rage.

this time from somewhere nearby.

At once, all three began began to bundle the migrants into their vehicles and head away from the bridge as quickly as possible, leaving them utterly bewildered and terrified of whatever unseen pursuer had been following the group and what it might have done to them had it caught up to them.

For the majority of the 23 years he was employed as a Border Patrol agent, Leon Baker was stationed in the Isleta region of El Paso.

It was here that he and his colleagues would head up into the nearby foothills of Mount Cristo Rey, searching for any telltale signs that migrant groups had recently passed through the area.

At times, they would locate discarded water bottles and food packaging, and at others, find piles of shoelaces and trouser belts, where other officers had already taken groups into custody.

There were many hazardous areas within the region which the agents were cautious about patrolling, including numerous abandoned mine shafts and smuggler tunnels.

But of all these, it was a location known as the Head Gates area that most unnerved Leon,

where a large canal which led out from the southern part of the city terminated.

This waterway had been constructed to assist local farmers in the irrigation of their crops during summer months, with its floodgates controlling the outflow into the surrounding fields.

But to the border patrol teams, it was also the final resting place for numerous migrants who had become lost in the dark and fallen into the water, drowning in the process.

One evening, Leon's nocturnal patrol route led him up to the canal, where he found one of his colleagues already sat in a vehicle next to the fencing there.

Parking his transport up so that the two vehicles were opposite one another, Leon had begun to chat to the other agent when he suddenly detected movement nearby.

Straining his eyes as he looked out into the darkness, he caught sight of a male figure slowly clambering up the opposite side of the fence, a short distance from the patrol vehicles.

Leon then swiveled the truck's searchlight towards the fence, where it illuminated the outline of a figure clinging to the other side of the metal barrier.

But the second it did so, the shadowy figure immediately faded out of existence, as if it had been a column of smoke caught in a gust of wind.

Panicked, Leon drew his weapon and exited his vehicle.

Running across to the fence and scanning the ground there with his torch, He searched for the intruder only to find no sign that the shape he had witnessed had ever been there.

The sandy ground had been completely undisturbed on both sides of the fence.

A short time later, the other agent joined him, seeming not in the least bit unsettled by what his colleague had just seen.

He informed Leon that on several prior occasions, he had also encountered shadow people up by the sides of the canal.

including one such figure that had apparently been in the process of physically hauling itself up from the sandy ground directly onto the rear of his truck.

Each and every one of them would evaporate or vanish when torchlight was shone upon them.

As well as the haunting events taking place at Head Gates, the agents were also apprehensive about patrolling a small cemetery that was known locally as Smelter Town.

Founded during the 1800s in the grounds of a former copper smelter, It was rumoured to have been filled with the bodies of children who died during the 1918 Spanish flu outbreak.

Situated on a rocky outcrop, the cemetery provided commanding views of the nearby desert, allowing agents to easily spot approaching migrant groups.

But a number of Border Patrol officers had refused to go up there, following encounters with what they believed to be the spirits of dead children.

Several reported that whilst alone at the location, stones had been thrown at their their vehicles, and children's voices giggling or singing nursery rhymes in Spanish could be heard.

Two of these agents claimed that they had even witnessed apparitions of these spirits, with one claiming that he had heard a thump on the rear of his truck and the pitter-patter of small footsteps running away.

The agent had exited the vehicle only to discover that no one was there.

Moments later, mocking laughter echoed from the surrounding darkness.

Another agent stated that he had dozed off for a few minutes, awakening to find a small dark-haired girl in a floral dress seated alongside him in the passenger seat, laughing and then slowly fading out of existence.

He then checked both doors of the truck's cabin and was dumbfounded when he discovered that they were still securely locked.

as he had previously left them.

A number of Leon's fellow agents also reported strange incidents which involved the use of the department's thermal imaging devices.

The majority of the forward-looking infrared or FLIR scopes had been passed to the Border Patrol by the Army, removed from military vehicles which were being decommissioned.

As a result, Many had been secured to Border Patrol vehicles using a variety of improvised methods, having rudimentary stands or supports fitted to allow their operation.

Not long after they came into circulation, stories began to emerge of agents who had witnessed unusual incidents whilst using them, which defied explanation.

Several operators claimed that they had observed thermal targets moving over the terrain for a sustained period of time, which were then not visible to the naked eye.

On one of these occasions, an agent operating a FLIA camera from the back of his vehicle detected a lone figure walking slowly and confidently along a nearby riverbank.

As he had directed other agents towards the location, the operator watched the figure then drop down into a nearby rocky depression, in an apparent effort to avoid detection.

However, When the other Border Patrol officers arrived and entered the same depression, they reported seeing no sign of the target or any evidence it had been there.

They noted that the target couldn't have left the area without being detected by the FLIR scope that was trained upon it.

In a second reported incident, a FLIA operator on board a patrol helicopter had detected a solitary figure moving at speed through a nearby valley.

As agents approached the figure, It had then walked into a nearby bush, seeming to suddenly melt or collapse into the undergrowth.

The operator continued to guide his colleagues on the ground into the bush, commenting that he could still clearly see the figure's thermal signature hidden within it.

But when the agents arrived and searched the vegetation, they reported that there was nothing there.

The agent aboard the helicopter protested, asking them to search it several more times, as the heat signature remained visible.

But as the agents on the ground poked and prodded their way through the undergrowth, passing right over where the figure was apparently lying, the same heat signature then faded away.

Rumours soon began to circulate that what had been witnessed might be connected to prior use of the scopes in military theatres, such as Iraq and Afghanistan.

The devices may have been replaying previous incidents they had captured, or perhaps they had somehow trapped the spirits of those who had been seen dying by their former operators.

By far the most disturbing incident involving one of the repurposed FLIR devices came from a unit stationed on the border between Arizona and Mexico, where an operator had become aware of a large group of between 40 and 50 migrants making their way through a nearby valley.

A team of his colleagues quickly assembled and then placed themselves in positions on the valley floor, directly ahead of the approaching column of people.

As time passed, the team listened to the progress reports being relayed by the scope operator on the high ground above them.

Soon, they also became aware of faint sounds of whispering voices and soft footsteps being carried downwind from the approaching migrants.

All of a sudden, an exclamation of shock sounded through their earpieces as as the FLIR operator began to yell at them to withdraw.

At the same time, they became aware of a series of cries and screams ahead, which began to fade away as the migrants apparently turned on their heels and ran.

Several of the agents unholstered their sidearms and prepared to give chase.

But the agent operating the scope begged and implored them not to, urging them to withdraw from the area.

Grudgingly, and having become aware of the fear and desperation in their colleague's voice, the ambush team proceeded to do so.

Demanding to know what had happened when they later met up with him, they were informed that the group of migrants had been scared off by a large mountain lion.

It would only be years later at a retirement ceremony that the scope operator revealed exactly what he had seen through his device.

A hulking humanoid figure, covered from head to toe in what looked like a scruffy layer of fur, had charged towards the approaching migrants across the valley floor, tearing vegetation and other obstacles from its path as it did so, its mouth wide open in either hunger or rage.

Coming to a halt as the migrants fled, it turned to stare along the trail where the agents were lying in wait.

Sniffing the air, it then faced their direction, seemingly waiting for them to give chase.

Its arms fell to its sides, hands flexing repeatedly, as if it was preparing to ambush the Border Patrol staff.

It was at this time that several other agents had commented that in the weeks after the incident in question, staff from the Bureau of Land Management had been seen in the same valley.

Several agents approached the khaki uniformed government employees and asked what had brought them down to the southern border region.

They were jokingly informed that someone had filed a report that they had seen Bigfoot somewhere on the Valley Trail in the weeks prior.

The most striking feature in most of the incidents which have originated from the southern border region is the lack of supporting evidence.

In an area so abundant with tracks and signs of those who have passed through, it is unsettling that these reported incidents leave no physical trace.

This suggests that either they are the result of the pressures and fatigue the agents face, or they originate from a realm entirely different to the human world.

A realm that perhaps the migrants crossing the border understand far better than those who lie in wait to detain them.

The city of Noales is located in the Mexican state of Sonora and lies directly opposite the Arizonan city of the same name, situated on the opposite side of the US southern border.

Prior to the 1920s, the city's population was split between those residing within its urban center and a series of smaller communities which lay a short distance away.

But with the creation of the American border wall, Residents who had previously traveled between the two countries to work could now only do so via the city's central checkpoint.

As a result, many situated in the outlying areas chose to move into the city itself, leaving their old settlements to slowly fade into obscurity.

In one such community, residents learned to coexist with a bizarre and haunting phenomenon, which occurred during the warmest months on cloudless evenings when the moon was at its highest in the night sky.

At this time, the streets of the small town would suddenly empty, with the doors of the few remaining houses being firmly closed and locked.

Then, an eerie commotion would drift down into the settlement from the nearby foothills, which sounded like a chorus of mournful voices, before a small group of shuffling figures emerged from the darkness and entered the streets.

Moving from house to house, their fingers scratched at windows and doors, their raspy voices requesting assistance from those inside.

The individual features of their faces had long since been lost to the sons of time, replaced by leering schools.

Their slow journey through the settlement lasted only a few minutes, before they returned to the mountains, where they had died many years earlier.

They had apparently been denied food and water by the town's residents whilst on a perilous journey.

As a result of failing to secure the necessary provisions in such a harsh environment, their bodies had never been found.

Returning from their place of death every year, they seemed to either be desperately searching for help from the people of the settlement or accusing them of directly contributing to their deaths.

Either way,

It serves as a sinister and supernatural reminder of the dangers that await those brave or desperate enough to undertake such an excursion.

Luciana Torres was born and raised in the suburbs of El Paso, not far from the checkpoint leading to the American side of the border.

She and her sisters had grown up hearing stories about the dangers present on the porous boundary between the two countries.

And like many other young Mexicans, she had also heard tales of another dangerous boundary, the one which separates the land of the living from that of the dead.

While she had never been involved in any paranormal encounters, she had spoken to many who claimed to have come face to face with terrifying apparitions.

One weekend as a teenager, She had set off as usual to visit one of her aunts, who resided a few short blocks away.

The route she had undertaken was a regular one, with the locals she passed being very familiar to her.

At the halfway point of the journey lay an unassuming residence, where an elderly occupant lived alone.

For years, there had been rumours that the woman had dabbled in witchcraft and black magic when she was younger, leading most of the community to shun her.

On this day, As Luciana passed the house in question, she noticed someone standing between it and the adjoining dwelling.

Stopping in her tracks, she stared in bewilderment at a haunting figure, which was situated just inside the narrow gap between the two buildings.

It was far taller than a normal person, with its head reaching just above the roofs of the houses, its thin body almost skeletal in appearance.

One of its slender arms hung down by its side, almost touching the ground, whilst the other appeared to be reaching in through one of the open windows of the old woman's house.

Having observed this terrifying apparition for a few seconds, Luciana soon came to realize that it did not appear to be moving, which led her to believe that it must have been a decoration of some sort, having been left there following the recent Day of the Dead celebrations.

But then,

ever so slowly, the tall figure's head rotated to look directly at her.

A pair of glowing light blue eyes fixed upon the teenage girl.

Gripped by an intense wave of fear, Luciana immediately walked on towards her aunt's house, where she decided not to speak of the encounter.

Several hours later, on her return journey through the same neighborhood, she again passed by the house in

noting that the figure she had previously seen was now gone.

At once, the door to the premises opened and two men exited carrying a laden stretcher covered over with a blanket, which they took across the street to a waiting ambulance.

Over the next few days, The gossip in town was that the old lady in question had been found dead in her house that same afternoon, lying on the floor right next to the window where Luciana had witnessed the figure, her hands clutched to her chest and her face a mask of shock and horror.

This encounter led Luciana to believe that she had somehow stumbled across an unwanted and unexpected visitor, who had traversed the boundary between the living and the dead, to take possession of the old woman's soul.

Ethan Ibarra did not know the name of the abandoned settlement which lay a short distance from his home in the border town of Aguaprieta.

He recalled his father saying once that it had served as a staging post for coyotes, escorting migrants through the nearby desert and into US territory.

In the same breath, he had forbidden his son from venturing amidst the small cluster of dilapidated residences, particularly after nightfall.

These were warnings that neither Ethan nor his close close friend Louise had heeded, and they soon set up a small den in one of the ruined houses.

For many of their expeditions, the only other visitors to the ghost town they ever encountered was the occasional ocelot or puma which the boys had respectfully avoided.

Then one evening, After they had lingered a little too long at their den, the boys were readying themselves to leave when Louise had suddenly grabbed Ethan by the arm.

As Ethan listened, he became aware of a haunting and unsettling sound, emanating from the far end of the line of buildings.

It sounded like a woman's voice weeping, her lamentation slowly growing in volume as she approached the house where they were.

Crouching down, The two boys stared at one another in fear, having both been raised on stories of the ghost of Laurona, the spirit of a mother who drowned her children when she learned her husband had left and spent the afterlife searching for their souls.

Moments later, a large shape came into view, silently making its way down what had once been the town's central road.

What the boys witnessed from their hiding place was not a woman, dead or otherwise, but instead a large feline creature.

Far bigger than any of the mountain lions or other big cats they had seen before, its torso was covered in what appeared to be sharp quills, each looking as lethal as a short knife or dagger.

Huge claws clicked against the rocky ground as it moved, and its jaws worked back and forth in what appeared to be hunger.

As they looked on, it came to rest outside the house.

A pair of glowing yellow eyes moved from side to side as if in search of something.

Then, to their amazement, the bizarre creature threw back its head and let forth the cry they had previously heard, sounding exactly the same as a wailing woman.

It proceeded to repeat this activity several more times, stopping near a dwelling on each occasion and producing a sorrowful call.

After a while, it paused, snapping its head to one side.

At once it took off at speed into the desert, heading towards the nearby border wall.

Waiting until they were sure the creature had left, The two boys fled the ghost town and headed back home as quickly as they could.

The following morning, the pair awoke to news of army helicopters having been seen out near the border wall where the bodies of several migrants had been found, having apparently been attacked by a mountain lion whilst trying to cross into the US.

As a consequence, neither of the boys ever went near the abandoned settlement or strayed beyond the town's boundaries at night ever again.

During the mid-1990s, a young migrant named Mario successfully successfully managed to cross the Sonora Desert into the United States, settling for a brief period on the outskirts of Phoenix.

However, having eventually been discovered there by local law enforcement and deported back to Mexico, he never again tried to cross the American border due to a horrifying incident which had occurred during his last attempt.

which had nearly cost him his life.

Whilst crossing the desert along with a group of about 20 other migrants, all escorted by a lone coyote, Mario had fallen and twisted his ankle.

Consequently, he was placed at the rear of the small column of travellers and ordered to listen out for any signs that the authorities might be in pursuit.

With night having fallen, The group were walking for several hours and Mario was growing tired when he suddenly heard a voice in the dark just behind him.

A man spoke in Spanish, telling him that the coyote was lost and was leading the entire group to its death.

Stopping in his tracks, Mario called out for whoever had spoken to identify themselves, but received no reply.

He began to reason that he must be imagining things, and just as he turned to walk on, The voice sounded again, this time coming from a completely different direction.

The unseen man announced that he was trapped and injured and needed water, otherwise, he would surely die.

Again, Mario requested that the man reveal himself, only to once more be greeted by silence.

Shrugging off the incident, the young man had turned and limped after the rest of the group.

An hour or so later, they had all sat down to rest.

It was during this period, as Mario was desperately trying to get some sleep, that he was unexpectedly roused by a worrying commotion.

Hurrying across to the rest of the group, he found several young women screaming and shouting that something had come out of the night and dragged the coyote away.

Locating the missing man's handgun and torch, which were lying discarded on the ground, Mario and two other men walked a short distance in search of their chaperone, but there was no trace of him anywhere to be found.

The group hurriedly packed up and headed north, just as they had been advised in the event they became separated from their escort.

Hours passed with Mario continuing to rearguard before he suddenly became frozen to the spot in terror.

Once again, a voice drifted out of the darkness, telling him that the group was lost and walking to their deaths.

But this time, it sounded exactly like their missing chaperone, speaking with the exact cadence and intonation of the first voice.

Shining the torch into the dark desolation around him, Mario still couldn't see anything.

The same voice came again, repeating that he had fallen and was trapped, and that if he didn't get get water soon, he would surely die.

With a shriek of terror, Mario turned and hobbled after the rest of the group, only for a shadowy figure to come bolting out of the darkness behind him.

A pair of strong hands gripped his legs and hauled him to the ground, attempting to drag him back away from the group.

With a series of screams, he kicked out at his attacker, fighting with all his strength to try and avoid being taken.

As he did so, the torch beam swung this way and that, illuminating glimpses of a savage reptilian face with yellow eyes and sharp fangs.

Leathery arms covered in tan scales clung to his legs, the sharp fingernails cutting deep into his exposed flesh.

In an instant, two shots rang out behind him, the man holding the coyote's gun screaming in Spanish for the creature to let go.

The reptilian assailant had simply hissed at him and then spoke once more in the missing man's voice.

They were told in no uncertain terms that they would not survive another night in the desert and that the flesh would be picked from their bones.

It then flared into the waiting darkness as two more rounds were fired after it.

The group hurriedly treated treated the deep lacerations to Mario's arms and legs, before lifting him from the ground and then struggling on into the morning light.

When taken alone, stories such as these could perhaps easily be dismissed as urban legends or fabrications to dissuade others from attempting such dangerous journeys.

But when put alongside similar experiences as related by Border Patrol staff out on the ground in the same areas as these witnesses, they become more unsettling.

Every year, a growing number of cadavers are recovered along the southern US border, the bodies of those who have lost their lives in their attempts to cross over.

The question is

whether they died as a result of the all too present dangers in our earthly realm, or something else, lurking beyond the veil

Bedtime's glorious