The Missing Migrant Program is meant to prevent deaths. Instead, it may be causing them.

The two Guatemalan boys huddled under a shiny black blanket that reflected the moonlight. It was their first night alone. Their only link to family was a cellphone, so they texted their uncle, Carlos D.L., in California: “Tío conteste, nos dejaron tirados.” Uncle, they left us here.

Nine nights earlier, around 3 a.m., the boys had crossed the U.S.-Mexico border in Sonoyta with around 15 others and a smuggler. They trekked across the Sonoran Desert, up and down rugged hills and across dry washes, with garlic rubbed on their shoes to repel snakes. J.G., who was 18 at the time, and his 20-year-old cousin, K.G., carried 50-pound backpacks with jerky, Maruchan cup noodles, energy drinks and the Paris Saint-Germain soccer jerseys they’d purchased in Mexico. The four one-gallon bottles of water tied to J.G.’s bag slammed against his body with every step.

The group rested in the shade of saguaros and mesquites for short stretches, hiding from the U.S. Border Patrol’s surveillance drones as a result of the Missing Migrant Program. Their dull-colored, dusty clothes offered camouflage, but they couldn’t have hidden from the drones’ infrared cameras. It was October, and temperatures rose above 90 degrees Fahrenheit during the day and dropped to the low 50s at night. They walked endlessly, resting for as little as an hour at a time, to their destination: a spot near a road where the smuggler’s contact could pick them up. The smuggler gave them stimulant pills to keep going.

By day six, their feet were scratched, raw and bloody with blisters. On day seven, they ran out of water. Some were so thirsty they drank their own urine. That day, as they climbed a mountain, they heard what sounded like animal howls. They scrambled to get away, but the rocks under J.G.’s feet gave way, and he slipped. His hand hit a cactus, and his ankle twisted. He tried to push through the pain, but by the next day, the pills were gone and his body was failing. On the ninth day, J.G. started vomiting. Without sleep and water, he soon collapsed.

The smuggler told the boys to rest. He pointed to a mountain in the distance: That’s the pick-up point, he said, and moved on with the others. The image of the mountain became etched in J.G.’s delirious mind. Eventually, the cousins got up, moving slowly, achingly, toward the hill. When they found tire tracks, they stopped, confused. Was this their destination? That couldn’t be right; the guide had said it would take another two days. But they set up camp for the night anyway, hoping that whoever left the tracks would soon return.

Now, whenever the Missing Migrant Program drones buzzed overhead, they tried to flag them down. As the cold night set in, they kindled a fire they hoped would be visible from afar. They were no longer trying to hide.

In the early hours of Oct. 18, the boys called their uncle. They later texted a screenshot of their location on Google Maps. It was 8:47 a.m., and their phone battery was at 5%. Carlos urged them to call 911. By the time they did, the battery was at 3%.

Why Border Patrol Created the Missing Migrant Program

The U.S.-Mexico border is the world’s deadliest land route for migrants, according to the International Organization for Migration. Thousands who try to cross it get lost, injured or sick and have to call 911 for help. For over a decade, local authorities in U.S. border towns have redirected calls from lost Spanish-speaking callers to the Border Patrol, the subagency of the U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) that pursues and arrests border crossers. The agency’s Missing Migrant Program is the federal government’s primary response to the migrant death toll, which has been trending upward for 20 years. Between 2014 and 2023, nearly 60% of the migrant deaths in the Americas occurred in the U.S.-Mexico border region — far surpassing the toll in the waters of the Caribbean and the jungles of the Darien Gap.

Read the full article about Border Patrol's Missing Migrant Program by Tanvi Misra at High Country News.