Page 47 of Not This Soon

“Go ahead,” Rachel said. “Update?”

"We've got another one. Body found two hours south of Austin. Local PD requesting Ranger assistance."

She went still. “Excuse me?”

“A body found. Rattlesnake on scene. Killed the same as the first.”

Rachel stared towards the groaning man now being cuffed, and the silent man who had shot at them now being ministered to by Ethan.

Rachel closed her eyes briefly, the weight of the news settling on her shoulders. Two hourssouth? One of these men was Diego, wasn’t he?

She watched as Ethan pulled the ski mask off the man who’d shot at them. He wasn’t moving. Rachel recognized the face though.

Ethan frowned at her. “Sanchez,” he called out, nodding once. He grimaced. “No pulse.”

The man’s blood was seeping into the barn’s weathered floorboards. Some of the red tinge stained the Uzi where it lay on the floorboards.

She looked away in frustration.

"Copy that," she responded, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "We'll wrap up here and head out ASAP."

“What is it?” Ethan called out.

But Rachel was moving swiftly towards Diego’s motionless body. She felt acid on her tongue. She didn’twantto hurt people. She kicked the submachine gun away. An uzi wascapable of unleashing a deadly spray of bullets in mere seconds. She felt sick looking at it, thinking of the damage it could have caused.

She knelt next to the body, her hand reaching out, fingers touching Diego’s cold, still face. She pulled off her gloves and shut his eyes. There was no sense of closure, just despair and frustration. "Dead."

Ethan said, "That changes things."

"The same killer has struck again," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the fallen suspect. "Two hours south of Austin."

Ethan let out a low whistle. "That's not good." He glanced at the second man, who was now groaning in pain where he was cuffed against the side of the ATV.

They were both thinking the same thing. If the cartels were involved, then why was the crime committed two hours from Diego’s location? Other hitmen?

Or were they barking up the wrong tree?

Rachel remained kneeling at Diego’s side, her red-streaked fingers leaving a stain on her white brimmed hat.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Fatherstumbled along the bridge, his feet dragging against the concrete. Blood oozed from cuts on his face, mixing with the tears that streamed down his cheeks. The weight of the dead rattlesnake coiled around his arm seemed to pull him down, but he trudged onward. His sobs echoed in the empty space, a haunting sound that spoke of deep anguish.

He strode over the bridge's railing, peering out at the glowing lights of Corpus Christi. The Harbor Bridge was a looming monolith of steel and concrete in the night sky. Lights twinkled on the horizon, the city unaware of the dark deeds unfolding on this desolate stretch.

A sob caught in his throat, hand clutching at the heavy pendant that hung around his neck. The icy chill of the metal did little to quell the burning guilt that gnawed at him. His gaze fell upon the lifeless snake in his grip, its once deadly power now just a cold, hollow shell.

His phone buzzed violently, shattering the quiet stillness. An incoming call. His stained fingers fumbled, bringing up an unknown number on screen. He hesitated for a millisecond before hitting decline and hurling the device out into the darkness of Corpus Christi Bay.

The muffled splash was swallowed by the wind, a familiar voice twisting in his ear like a cruel chorus. Not tonight. He needed peace tonight.

The snake's scales dug into his skin, a constant reminder of the darkness that clung to him. He couldn't take it anymore, the weight of his sins, the unrelenting demands.

Tears continued to fall as he stared out over the water, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The bridge stretched out before him, an endless path leading nowhere. Father knew hehad to keep moving to find some way to atone for his sins, but the road ahead seemed impossibly long and treacherous.

With a heavy heart, he took a step forward, then another, the snake's coils tightening around his arm like a vice. Each movement was agony, but Father pushed on, driven by a desperate need for redemption that he feared might always remain just out of reach.

He reached the end of the bridge under the cover of midnight, preferring the desolate shadows to the glaring lights of the city. His rusted ATV was parked there. His freedom. His escape. He approached it, his heart heavy in his chest.

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