ABC-13 gets up-close look at immigrants' dangerous journey to U.S.

GUATEMALA CITY (KTRK) -- The constant flow of illegal immigrants, most of them minors, is staggering. They continue to come in record numbers, and by the end of the year, the U.S. border patrol will have captured close to 90,000.

But what is driving this massive influx of immigrants, specifically unaccompanied minors? We made our way to Central America to find out, to take the journey ourselves with these minors to learn of their desperation.

In Part Two of this journey, we pick up the story on the Guatemalan side of the border with a fast-moving group of immigrants with several children in tow. We are on the move again, trying to keep up with two dozen immigrants being led by a coyote, a smuggler. And among the group is 16-year-old Antonio, who is traveling alone.

"There is no work here," Antonio says, "Nothing to do, and no money to live."

He is like so many children who have left home and family in Honduras. He was three weeks into his journey when he was picked up by a smuggler.

"I hope I make it to the U.S.," he says, "I want to work to help my family in Honduras."

Not far away from Antonio, traveling without a smuggler is 15-year-old Jose. He's not leaving Guatemala to find work. No, he just wants to survive. He is fleeing the deadly, rampant violence of this land which has been overrun by drug cartels and gangs.

Ademar Barelli runs the largest migrant shelter near the Guatemalan-Mexican border. If there is anyone who has witnessed the struggle, it is this man.

"The people need security of life. They can't find it. They need a job. They don't exist! They need to know that they can live!" Barelli said.

So, Jose presses forward, finally reaching the Guatemalan-Mexican border and another secret crossing. Clearly evident in his face: Fear. His eyes are wide and wandering, as if constantly on the lookout for "La Migra," the border patrol.

Yes, even Guatemala and Mexico have a form of border patrol, but it is a small rag tag group of unequipped and unskilled agents who simply can't keep watch of this mountainous, extremely porous border. It's good news for Jose, who gingerly sits on a makeshift raft of tubes, broken wood planks, and unraveling rope, trying to make it to the other side.

"Are you afraid?" I ask.

"Yes," he says softly. "I am afraid."

"What are you afraid of?" I hesitantly question, knowing what his answer will be, but I had to hear it from him.

"I'm afraid of what's ahead. There's a lot to be afraid of. I don't know what will come next."

Our shaky raft hits the shoreline on the Mexican side of the border. We have traveled 700 miles but the longest and deadliest part of the journey lays ahead for Jose. He will need to prepare, mentally, physically, and even economically for the trek. So, like most child immigrants he will stay and work for several days in the small southern Mexican town of Hidalgo, hoping to earn enough money to finish his journey.

We wish him well and he is off, walking a lonely and deadly road that thousands have walked before him and where thousands will yet walk. It is a stream of immigrants that is seemingly never ending.