by Hunt, Jack
Before Garcia could put him out of his misery, Carlos stopped breathing.
He rose and gazed around. He felt no sense of victory. It was senseless.
“Garcia.”
He looked across the room to Marco. “They’re alive.”
They were already making their way out as he crossed the room. Liam’s one good arm wrapped around Elisha. She looked at him and gave a strained smile, a smile that reminded him of Sophie. One glance at Liam’s mangled arm and he knew how close they’d come to death.
Few words were exchanged as he led them out and placed them in the back of a cruiser and told Andre to rush them over to the shelter. Before they left, Elisha got out and gave him an unexpected hug. “Thank you.”
She sounded genuine, a far cry from his last conversation with her.
As the cruiser raced away, lights on, sirens blaring. Marco came out of the tavern and made his way over.
“You know the can of worms you’ve opened?”
Garcia nodded. Those final words weren’t an idle threat. The connections Carlos spoke of were very real. Although La Primera didn’t have anywhere close to the numbers of the Norteños, rumors had circled of a merger between Carlos and the 18th Street Gang, a group considered the largest in California. Whether there was any truth to it was to be seen. For now he couldn’t worry about that, Petaluma had bigger challenges ahead.
Without looking at him, Marco said, “We will handle the rest, then we are even. From here on out, you’re on your own. Show your face in Santa Rosa again, and I will end you myself.” He walked past him leaving him feeling like he’d lost the closest thing to a brother, but the truth was he’d lost much more than that, and even then, there was still more to lose.
35
North Carolina
Sophie stabbed the pedal and the truck screeched to a standstill at the edge of the road somewhere on the outskirts of town. The engine growled as she tapped the accelerator and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. A head full of fear, a heart full of regret, she was torn.
Ryan lifted a hand and pointed down the road.
“What are we doing? Let’s go,” Ryan said. “The cops could be looking for us.”
She said nothing and stared ahead, lost in thought.
“Sophie.”
“I can’t leave him behind,” she said in a low voice.
Ryan frowned. “What? But you heard what he said.”
“What we say and what we do are two very different things, Ryan. He was angry and he had every reason to be.” She raised her voice and her knuckles went white from gripping the wheel so hard.
Silence stretched between them.
Two vehicles drove by and her pulse sped up. It was true, by now the cops could be looking for them. Why wouldn’t they? Weaverville was functioning and the two guys had her description, the truck’s description and had probably found their friend’s body.
Ryan continued. “For all we know Lyla was lying and he’s driving west right now.”
“No, he wouldn’t leave us.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I know Alex,” she said raising her voice and casting Ryan a sideways glance. “I know him.”
“And I knew Lyla,” Thomas chimed in. “If she said it was too late for him, it’s too late. Even if we could find him, Sophie, he’s probably dead now.”
“He risked his life looking for a vehicle for us.”
“And he failed,” Ryan replied. “I’m sorry but going back now would be insane. We’ve got a vehicle. We’ve got the means to get to California. Do you want to lose that? Do you want to find yourself inside a jail cell? What about Elisha? Don’t you think she’s waiting?”
“Stop it, Ryan.”
“Why? You’re separated from him. If none of this had happened, we would have been on a flight back to California and he would have still been in Elizabeth City. He doesn’t matter anymore!”
Sophie gritted her teeth as she shifted the gear stick, and swung the truck around and pointed it back toward town. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
In the back seat, Thomas leaned back bringing two hands up to his head. “Oh God, we are going to die.”
By the time they returned, a crowd had formed at the Weaverville Downtown Parking Lot. Although it was risky to be in the area, they parked outside a crowded laundromat, in a place that would give them a good view and yet multiple ways to escape if push came to shove.
Police had already begun to cordon off the area with yellow tape. One officer was taking statements while another was in charge of crowd control. As a gurney was loaded into the back of an ambulance, Sophie’s stomach turned. She wanted to vomit. The horror of taking another life even if it was in self-defense was unfathomable. Even if she confessed to appease her guilt, would anyone believe her? With the truck stolen they wouldn’t buy it.
Ryan stayed low but Thomas didn’t, he leaned forward scanning the crowd. “They’re not there.”
“What?”
“The men. I know Cowboy. He wouldn’t put his own neck on the line not even for Lyla. And those guys wouldn’t have stuck around. Loyalty only stretches so far. No, someone else found her body and reported it. By now they’ve probably told Cowboy, and like I said before, it’s too late for Alex. Cowboy will go berserk when he finds out and if he hasn’t already slit his throat, he will.”
Sophie turned in her seat. “You know him, right?”
“Spent enough time at his beck and call. Sure.”
“Where would he be? Where would he take him?”
He shrugged. “That’s the million-dollar question. Hell, he has lots of connections, lots of places he could have taken him but I don’t think he would stick around.” Thomas looked out again. Distraught that it had come to this, Sophie was beginning to think that she didn’t have any other options but to leave. She thought the men would be there, or at least this Cowboy fella but…
“Hold on,” Thomas said squinting. “Him. I know him.” He shook his finger. “What’s your name? Where have I seen you before?”
“Thomas. Who?”
“See that old guy with the white truck.”
She nodded.
He clicked his fingers. “Bill. Bill. That’s it!” He clapped his hands. “Bill Mulroney. I remember now. Cowboy had some deal with him going. I met him twice, once in Asheville and a second time here. A real sicko.”
They watched as Bill elbowed his way through the people and looked around the crowd. He lifted a phone and took a few snapshots then made his way back to his truck. From what they could tell he was alone. “Follow him.”
“What?” Ryan said. “No. We came back. Alex is not here. Cowboy is not here. We are not going on a wild goose chase.”
Sophie ignored him as she eased out of the lot and headed north on Merchants Way. They then hung a right and took a left onto Main Street. Bill’s truck was four vehicles ahead, the traffic was steady. A couple of cars veered in ahead of them.
Sophie craned her neck as they came to a standstill because a woman and her child crossed the street. Fortunately, she caught sight of him after he stopped at a convenience store. He came out with a bag, and opened a pack of smokes and lit one, then got back into his truck.
Bill continued on his way leading them north until he hung a right on to Critters Trail. With no other traffic heading that way, they had to let him go ahead. That was the only time Sophie thought they would lose him.
Fortunately, there were no other homes on that road.
Minutes later, they arrived near the entrance to a two-story house hidden among the trees. “Wait, Sophie. Let us go,” Thomas said.
“No, Alex could be in there.”
“Leave it to us. We’ll go see.”
“We’ll all go see,” she said.
She got out, taking the rifle with her.
“Do you even know how to use that?” Thomas asked.
“No, but it can’t be hard,” she said looking it over. “Point and aim, right?
”
He frowned, unconvinced. “Uh-huh! How about I take it?” He reached for it and she shook her head.
“Not happening.”
“C’mon.” He looked at Ryan. “Ryan?”
“Don’t look at me. If I had my way we would be long gone by now.”
They ran at a crouch between the trees and made it over a small rise that gave them a better view of the home. Bill had parked outside and Sophie spotted movement in the house. It was only brief so she was unable to tell if there were more of them.
“If you think you’re going to waltz in there and walk out with him, you’re mistaken,” Thomas said. “Please, Sophie. Trust me.” He reached for the rifle. As much as she didn’t want to hand it over, she’d never fired a rifle let alone been shown how to handle one. Knowing her luck she would end up hurting someone close. One thing was sure, if they made it out of this situation she was determined to learn.
“Whoa, get down!” Ryan said placing a hand on her back. They dropped to the dirt and observed Bill come out of the house and go to the back of his truck and pull out a shovel, and some black bags.
“That better not be for what I think it is,” she said.
Once Bill was inside, they moved in on the house, going around the back. True to his word, Thomas didn’t do anything stupid. He led the way with the rifle raised, sweeping the windows as they went. He looked strangely comfortable with a gun in hand. Around the back of the house, they spotted Bill through the sun room; rubber gloves on, going room to room and collecting items in one of the black bags. Sophie followed as Thomas quietly opened the rear door and entered.
She could hear the blood in her ears as her heart was pounding.
With every step she feared Bill would hear and they’d find themselves on the end of a bullet.
“Where is he, old man?” Thomas said, rounding a corner into the living room and keeping his gun on him.
“You’re too late. He’s gone.”
Sophie was quick to ask. “And Alex?”
“They took him.”
“He’s alive?” She asked.
“He was the last time I saw him.”
“How about you put down that bag and take a seat, Bill,” Thomas said.
Bill complied but shot back, “You’re in a whole world of trouble, kid.”
“Yeah but I’m not the one with a gun pointed at my heart. Am I?”
Ryan took off to check the rooms while Sophie remained with Thomas.
“Killing Lyla. That was a stupid mistake. You might have got your friend back had you gone with them. Now you won’t see him again.” He looked at Sophie. “You his wife?”
That was a question she’d been asked many times over her marriage and yet now it didn’t have the same ring to it. “Where’s he gone?”
Bill remained silent.
Thomas jerked his rifle at him. “Hey asshole, she asked a question.”
“You going to kill me, Thomas?”
“Answer the question.”
Bill rubbed his hands over his dirty jeans and looked at her. “He said he was heading up to McInnis Lake.”
“You sure about that, old man?”
“What reason would I have to lie?”
“The same reason you never told those cops about this. Your neck would be on the line. They would ask too many questions. Maybe dig into your shady background.”
Bill narrowed his eyes and leaned forward putting Thomas on edge. “Listen, I might have done that lunatic favors but I never expected this.”
“No? Why did you help him then, Bill?” Thomas paused and grinned. “Oh that’s right, you abused him back when he was a teen but instead of turning your sorry ass in, Cowboy saw an opportunity and turned you into one of his lap dogs. Isn’t that right? And don’t lie because everyone knows about those sick videos you made. You really should have disposed of them. Now you’re his bitch. So tell me, Bill, how many times have you cleaned up his mess? Cause that’s what you’re doing here, right?”
Ryan came back into the room. “Alex isn’t here but there is a family of four dead.” They all looked at Bill.
He smiled back before sneering. “You fucking self-righteous prick. You think you’re above me? Huh? You think helping her is going to change what you did?” His eyes lit up. “Oh I know about you.” He then looked at Ryan. “And you!” He laughed. “So go ahead, squeeze the trigger. See if I give a shit.”
Without hesitation, Thomas shot him.
His body slumped to one side, blood billowing and spreading across his shirt.
Startled, Sophie took a few steps back.
It felt like she was in a nightmare.
Thomas brushed past her but not before saying, “Trust me, he deserved it.”
Before leaving the house that afternoon, they found an additional Smith & Wesson handgun, and a Browning Auto-5 shotgun inside Bill’s truck. As they made their way back through the woodland to their own vehicle, Sophie caught up with Thomas who looked deep in thought. Gone was the sarcasm or personal jabs at Ryan. He looked different, focused, and if she wasn’t mistaken, keen to face that which he’d been running from. “You know where this McInnis Lake is?” She asked.
“Northwest of here. About an hour’s drive.”
“Why would he take him there?”
He continued walking without saying anything.
“Thomas.”
He stopped and looked at her. “It’s just a rumour but I heard Cowboy takes anyone who tries to oppose him up there. They are never seen again. Anytime someone said he’d gone fishing, that’s where he went. Never been there myself but I know where it is.”
“You think Bill was telling the truth?”
He gave a nod. “Strangely for a man who spent his life telling lies, yes.”
They continued walking, stepping out of the tree line back onto the road. The smell of pine and soil dominated. Once they got in the truck and Sophie started the engine, Thomas leaned forward and placed a hand on her arm. “We’ll need some help and I think I know who to ask.”
He was going to die.
Bound, gagged and stuffed into a Toyota Camry that belonged to the slaughtered family, the only solace came from the thought of being reunited with Michael. There had been times since losing his son that he’d thought about taking his own life, just ending the pain, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was as if his son was there, somehow keeping him from going over the edge.
Throughout that long, bumpy ride north of Weaverville, Alex’s thoughts circled and came to rest on Sophie. She must have thought he’d found a vehicle and left without them. Would she forgive him? Would she make it back to Elisha?
Would she ever know the truth?
There had been so many things he’d wanted to share with her, overdue apologies, compliments he’d held back. It was only in the face of death that he understood the true value of her in his life. And now he would never get to tell her.
Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the vehicle slowed.
He was violently pulled out of the trunk. Cowboy dragged him by his legs through the thick underbrush, over downed branches and across rocks all the while asking him where his wife was. Alex refused to tell him. Upon hearing the news that Lyla had been murdered, and his men witnessed Sophie fleeing the scene, Cowboy had directed his rage at Alex.
Fists, knees, elbows, headbutts, he used them all to rain down a barrage of violence that may have killed another. Alex would have fought back if he could have but that wasn’t how this coward played.
As the sun dipped behind the trees, and daylight gave way to night, he thought Cowboy would drown him as he dragged his body out into that cold lake. He thought it would be over in an instant; a flash of rage, a moment of pain and then peace, but that wasn’t part of the game. He wanted to draw it out, the sound of his laughter made it clear that he got off on it.
Somewhere in the shallow, Cowboy tied weighted rope around Alex’s ankles. He saw rocks, and some small weights. “Oh we�
��re gonna have some fun tonight!”
Still gagged and bound, he could no nothing except squirm in his grasp.
It was only then did he see rope like those around his ankles, hanging over branches disappearing into the water. How many times had he done this before? What was this place? His own personal torture ground? “That bastard uncle wasn’t good for much but he owned all of this,” Cowboy said stretching his arms out. “And he taught me a thing or two about fear. And boy, I’m gonna share it with you tonight.”
With that said, he gave the thumbs-up to one of his pals and Alex was lifted high into the air. Cowboy sloshed his way out of the water and over the next few hours they partied hard, occasionally taking pot shots at him from the shore. Not one bullet hit him but that was the point. It was a game of fear, toying with his mind.
Dunked.
Raised.
Mocked.
Questioned.
“Where is your wife?”
It seemed to go on forever.
He refused to answer.
Truth be told, he was just biding his time.
Although his wrists were bound, Alex’s fingers weren’t. Fumbling to undo the buckle on his jeans, he extracted the belt knife. Formed from steel, one end was the buckle, the other a blade tucked into belt leather. That unobtrusive, almost undetectable survival knife gifted to him by Charlie slipped out of his belt with such ease and timing that he could have believed that God himself had destined it.
On the first dunk, he’d retrieved it, by the second he’d begun to work on the rope.
The bindings went limp, his hands came apart, and in a flash, he stabbed Cowboy — once, twice, three times in the gut. Shock set in as Cowboy staggered back, water sloshing around him. He cried in agony as he gripped his stomach before falling forward.
Rounds erupted from the shoreline, riddling Cowboy with lead as Alex used his body for cover.
Then it happened.
The slip of rope, a descent toward the surface and a final glimpse of Sophie as she and others emerged from the tree line.
