Page 30 of Not This Place

Rachel could feel her memory, allowing her to relax. She exhaled shakily, releasing a pent-up breath. There were three keys to taking a clean shot:

Breathe. Steady. Squeeze.

She lined the sniper in her sights, centering the crosshairs on his concealed figure. One shot. That’s all it would take. She’d taken down bigger targets than this.

She exhaled, her body steady against the roof, the cold metal of the rifle a comforting weight in her hands. The world seemed to slow for a moment, sounds muffled as if she were underwater.

Her scope lined up on the shooter. Two of them. One with a machine gun. The other with a rifle.

She could see them huddled together.

She aimed for the one shooting at Ethan, and then went still.

Her heart caught, and she let out a slow, cursing exhale.

She recognized the shooters, now. Recognized them, because she’d been searching for them. One of them even had what looked like a fresh burn mark on his cheek.

She’d known that by visiting the off-grid community, she’d be kicking over a hornet’s nest.

but she hadn’t known exactly how much trouble she’d stir up for herself. These were the thugs who’d taken a shot at Aunt Sarah. And now they were here…

She stared at John Red Bear and Joseph White Cloud. The step-brothers who’d allegedly been involved in her mother’s disappearance. Crew members of a heist team who might’ve gone violent.

Clearly, they were no stranger to violence.

The two men looked older than their mugshots, and both had longer hair. But it was undoubtedly them, recognizable from the flat cheeks and sharp, hawk-like noses. Not to mention the tribal tattoos up and down their arms, visible even in the smoke-filled sky.

“Shit,” she cursed.

She fired a warning shot.

She needed them alive. A bullet tinged off the air-conditioning unit. Joseph dropped to the ground, screaming.

John whirled around, aiming. She fired again. This time, her bullet caught him in the chest. He went down, hard.

“Stay down!” she shouted across the gap. “Don’t move, Joseph! Don’t you dare move!”

There was cursing now, but no more gunfire.

"Ethan?" she called. "You okay?"

“Peachy! You?”

“Fine.”

“It’s John Red Bear and Joseph White Cloud,” she shouted down. “John is shot.”

“EMTs on the way!” Ethan’s voice retorted.

“Don’t shoot!” came Joseph’s screams. “Dammit—just, just don’t shoot!”

Rachel kept her scope trained on the lip of the roof. Joseph tried to rise to run, so she shot the air conditioning unit again. The explosion of sparks dissuaded

him from further attempts. He hit the ground, his body pressed flat against the rough concrete of the roof.

Rachel ignored the bitter taste of adrenaline and grit filling her mouth. Moving carefully but swiftly, she collected her gear and made her way back to Ethan. He was hunkered down behind the barricade, his face a hard mask of grim resolve as he kept his weapon directed towards the rooftop.

His eyes were transfixed on something in the distance—a convoy of police cars with flashing lights turning into the motel's parking lot.

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