Page 68 of Cryptic Curse

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After what feels like hours, we come to the bags of cocaine.

Plastic lasts for an eternity, and other than being covered in dirt, the bags are intact.

Great.

We’re now in possession of a boatload of illegal drugs.Fully in reach of my addict brother, who currently has a makeshift weapon in his hands.

Perfect.

We threw them on top of Vega’s body after we tossed him in the ground, so we’re almost there.

I angle my headlamp for a better view and keep digging.I brace myself for what we’re about to encounter.

Human remains.

Human fucking remains.

Will there be an odor?Will his skin be intact or will it have decomposed by now, leaving only clothes and bones?

Fuck.

“Damn,” Eagle says.“How deep did you and Falcon bury him, anyway?”

Not this deep.

But I don’t say the words.

I continue, tossing shovels full of dirt up and out of the pit.

My hands are blistering even under the gloves.

It wasn’t this deep.

Not this far down.

And then I see it.

A piece of red fabric.

I set my shovel down and tug at the material.

It’s a red bandana.

Was Vega wearing a bandana?

I think back.So much of that night is a blur.

But no… He wasn’t wearing a bandana.

He could have had one in his pocket, but…

Nope.

Vega was a drug kingpin.If he carried a handkerchief, it would have been the finest silk.

This bandana came from somewhere else.

Someone who…

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