by H. L. Wegley
In the distance a noise came, one that didn’t belong to the night.
“What was that sound?”
“I didn’t hear anything.” Beth pressed against his side.
“Let’s listen.”
It came louder this time. Somewhere, a horse had whinnied.
“Did you hear it?”
Beth nodded. Her head turned upward and her gaze locked on his face.
Two more loud neighs.
The whinnying became continuous.
The crack of two gunshots ripped through the stillness of the evening.
Beth’s body froze against him. “The horses. It’s Suarez.”
The whinnying had stopped.
Suarez was here. If he had killed the horses, he would regret it.
A flash of lightning to the west lit Beth’s face and revealed a tortured look that ripped at Drew’s heart.
“He killed them and it’s all my fault.” Beth barely choked out the last word before her sobbing started.
“Not every bad thing that happens is your fault, Beth. Suarez chose to do what he did. But he didn’t know that when he made that choice, he chose to die.”
She swiped at her eyes. “No, Drew. I’ve cost you and your mom too much already. Please, don’t do anything out of anger.”
“I’m angry, but I’m not stupid. But Señor Suarez is. He just scheduled his funeral.”
Beth gripped his wrists. “We will stay here, unless we’re discovered, just like we planned.”
“We can’t just sit here and let him move in on us. If they found the horses, they will eventually find us. A good tracker can follow our trail as soon as it gets light. We need to go on the offensive, take the fight to them. If I can get Suarez, the fight is probably over.”
“Listen to what you are saying. You want to take on an army and kill their general all by yourself. That’s crazy. And what about me, Drew West. If you fail what happens to me?”
“Beth, if I stay here and let them come to us, I’ve failed you. The only possibility of success is to take out Suarez now. He won’t be expecting it.”
“I’m not going to stay here and listen to the shots that kill you. I—” Beth scampered to the wall and picked up the .30-30 she had leaned against it. “Are you going, Drew?”
“Yes. But you’re not going with me.”
“I’m not going with you, because you’re not going either, even if I have to shoot you in the leg to stop you. You’re not going!”
He stepped to his right, toward his gun leaning against the wall.
A telltale metallic sound said Beth had worked the lever and put a bullet in the firing chamber. “You’re just like my father. Bent on getting yourself killed and others too. That’s not being brave. It’s just being a fool. Because he wouldn’t back off, the cartel destroyed most of our town and they killed everyone who opposed them.”
“Beth, if you’re going to shoot me, you’d better shoot, because I’m going after Suarez. But if you shoot, he’ll hear it. You’ll be the one bringing him here.”
She slammed her gun on the cabin floor, turned and pressed her face into the wall. Her body shook with each cry of her heart as the sobs came. From the sound of them, they would not stop anytime soon.
He couldn’t stand this. Drew stepped outside and closed the door. Was he also closing the door on the best thing life had ever given him, Beth Sanchez?
* * *
Beth wiped her eyes and surveyed the room.
Drew had left, but he didn’t take anything, so he wouldn’t be gone long. He would come back, get his gun, and go out to face Suarez.
But if she left and told Drew it was over between them, he wouldn’t have to protect her. It would make him safer no matter what he chose to do. And, with her gone, maybe he would choose not to go. Regardless, the biggest risk to Drew was to be saddled with Beth Sanchez.
She needed to tell him something if she left. She had to give him some reason. But she could never do that face-to-face.
Beth looked around the room for writing materials and found a few pens, pencils, and writing paper in the small desk. There were notes that looked like things Drew might have written while working on a novel.
Beth pulled out a sheet of blank paper and took one of the pens.
If she told Drew it was over between them, and that she was leaving, she could sneak out and maybe check on the horses on her way to Highway 126. As soon as it was light, she could catch a ride to Redmond, where she could call Sophia who would make travel arrangements for her to fly to Texas.
No. That wouldn’t work. It might bring danger to Sophia.
The only solution was for Beth to simply disappear, like a self-imposed WITSEC program. Start a new life. Then there would be no trial in Pecos, with Drew there too. No troubled relationship with him. Just a new life and a new identity.
That wasn’t what Beth wanted, but what she wanted in life always seemed to elude her.
She needed to hurry in case Drew returned. Her message needed to be brief and pointed. She quickly scrawled out her message.
Drew,
It would never work for us. I can see that and I’m sure you do too. I’m going away to a place where no one can find me, ever. Beth Sanchez no longer exists, so you should not look for her.
Goodbye, Drew
She read the note, then read it again. It sounded selfish. She hadn’t even mentioned the danger they were in tonight with Suarez looking for them. And it was foolish to claim she could disappear and never be found. Would Drew buy any of it?
Beth had no choice but to try.
She put the note on the table and laid the pen on it, then she walked softly to the bedroom and slipped out the back door of the cabin. Hopefully, Drew was still at the other end of the building, on the front porch.
* * *
A bolt of lightning lit up the clouds above him and the area around him. Suarez looked toward the ridge to the west.
The lightning was both a blessing and a curse. It could reveal Drew West and the girl to him, but it might also give away his strategy and position.
Another flash lit the ridge.
Suarez mentally froze the brief video created by a flash of lightning illuminating that ridge. He had seen a figure moving toward the south, halfway down on this side of the ridge. That was the general direction of the horses he had shot at.
Maybe someone wanted to use the horses to try to escape. He could not let that happen.
“Manuel, take ten men and go back to where we saw the horses. I think someone is moving along the ridge to the west. I will take ten men and follow the ridge toward you. Whoever it is will be caught between us. I would bet money, a lot of money, that it is either Señorita Sanchez, Drew West, or both.”
“We are on our way, El Capitan.” Manuel motioned to his men and they scurried away to the east.
“Valdez, bring your men and follow me.” He pointed at the ridge. “We run to the ridge, quietly. Then we move along it to the south, and we catch whoever is up there.”
“Catch or kill?” Valdez said. “I do not want my men to make a mistake.”
“Catch, unless they are going to kill you. Once we catch up to them, we surround them.”
Three minutes later, Suarez’s group had reached the base of the ridge and climbed part of the way up it.
Another thunderstorm bore down on them from the west. Lightning flashed on the far side of the ridge. But soon it would move to this side.
Right now, they needed to close on their quarry. Hector turned to Valdez and spoke softly, “I think they are only a hundred meters ahead, maybe two. We need to catch up to them now, before the lightning reveals us and spoils our night vision.”
A buzzing came from behind Suarez. A yelp followed the buzz.
One of the men hurried to catch up with Valdez. “Arturo was bitten by a rattlesnake.”
Suarez turned to the man. “Speak more softly, Gerardo. Did you kill the snake?”
Gerardo lowered his voice. “No, El Cap
itan. I do not think so. Arturo pinned its head to the ground with a stick.”
“Arturo will not be any help tonight. He must stay here to rest and wait until we can help him back to the vehicles,” Valdez said.
“But perhaps the snake will be of help. Secure it and bring it.”
“Secure the snake? Are you sure, El Capitan?”
“I am always sure. Bring it. But hurry.”
The pine and juniper trees were widely spaced now, and the undergrowth consisted of only a few bushes. Suarez’s progress slowed as their cover grew sparse. So far, they had kept noise to a minimum.
A white flash stole his night vision and the loud, simultaneous crack stopped Suarez.
Lightning had struck the ridge top above them. A pine tree exploded into flames. It lit the area like a bright torch.
Movement ahead caught Suarez’s attention. Denim shorts, long dark hair—it had to be Señorita Sanchez.
He pointed at her.
Valdez nodded.
Suarez motioned the men forward on his right and his left. “Stay with me Valdez,” he whispered. “It is Señorita Sanchez. We wait here until the others have had time to flank her.”
“El Capitan, I saw her,” he whispered back. “And I also have seen pictures of Elizabeth Sanchez. It is a shame to kill a woman who looks like her.”
“Then perhaps I should shame her instead of killing her. I could give her the great honor of belonging to the leader of the Del Rio Cartel.”
“Or you could sell her, El Capitan.”
“We shall see, Valdez. You sound as if you are ready to place a bid. Before we decide her fate, we must go claim Elizabeth Alicia Sanchez, daughter and only living child of that foolish hombre, Rafael Sanchez.”
* * *
Beth needed to hurry. Put as much distance between her and the cabin as she could before the lightning started again and lit the whole area, including her.
She could not let Drew find her, or he would stop her from going. Her resolve would crumble with one look at the pain in his eyes.
Had Beth just admitted that she was running from Drew against her own will? Her logic seemed to say that. But she had to run, because Beth was weak. Beth Sanchez couldn’t stand up for herself, couldn’t do what was right. If she could, she would have died eight years ago.
A crunching noise came from her left, below Beth on the side of the ridge.
Another sound, a crack, came from her right, somewhere above her.
Maybe it was deer moving toward the water where they had left the horses. But the electricity shooting tingling sensations up her back suggested otherwise.
She crouched beside a large bush and listened.
The sound below her had now moved in front of her and more sounds came from behind and above her. Either it was deer, or Beth Sanchez was surrounded.
Heavy boots clomped on the ground all around her.
She curled into a ball, hid under the bush, and tried to control her heavy breathing.
I wish Drew was here.
Then why did you dump him with that nutty note?
She was a fool. Beth usually thought things through, thoroughly. Her desperate action, based only on her emotions, could cost her everything.
A flashlight beam flooded the area with light.
The beam moved her way.
Now, it lit her body.
“Me estás tomando el pelo?” It was Suarez’s gravelly voice, filled with surprise. “No, you aren’t kidding me.”
She didn’t want to appear as a cowering fool. Beth stood and looked his way, but could only see the bright, blinding light.
“Valdez, bind her hands behind her back.” Suarez’s voice.
Beth kicked at the shadowy figure that approached her. She threw an elbow at another person, but rough hands pushed her face down to the ground and held her there.
Her stomach roiled at the stench of unwashed bodies. She wanted to turn and vomit her disgust on them. Show them how much she detested these vile men. But she couldn’t move.
In a few seconds, her wrists were tied, and the nylon bands cut into her skin with each attempt to break free from them.
“Señorita Sanchez …” It was the raspy voice of Suarez. “Before you entertain me, you should tell me where your lover, Drew West is hiding. If you tell me now, it could spare you much … discomfort. But you will tell me, regardless.”
Though she wanted to, Beth forced herself not to reply.
“Maybe I should spoil tu hermoso rostro. Would that help your memory?”
Mar her face? He was capable of a lot more than that, but Beth didn’t want to give in if he was only bluffing at this point. She wouldn’t make it easy for them to catch Drew.
“I don’t know where he is. I had an argument with him and ran away. I was still running when you found me.”
“And you are a liar, Señorita.”
“A liar? You can call me anything you want. It does not change the truth.”
“Call you anything? Very well, perhaps I will call you mine … and let you live, if you tell me where Señor West is.”
Though she feared Suarez, his taunting threats brought heat to the back of her neck—two-hundred-twelve-degree heat. “I told you I don’t know. But I wouldn’t tell you even if I did.”
“Now we are getting to the truth, are we not?”
She pulled her legs under her, rose to her knees, and glared up a Suarez. “You tell me, coward who kills children.”
“Coward?” His face contorted into an ugly caricature of itself. “No! Suarez kills his enemies! Big ones, little ones, all my enemies. Comprende?”
“You kill children. That I could never comprende.”
“Then maybe you will understand this. You will not tell me where Señor West is, so I will persuade him to come to us. Do you know how I do this, Señorita?”
“It sounds like a magician’s trick. Maybe Hector Houdini should surprise me.”
His face morphed to an uglier version of itself.
She shouldn’t have said that.
Suarez turned to the man behind him. “Tell Gerardo to bring the stick.”
Stick? Were they going to beat her?
Somehow Suarez was going to use her to lure Drew. She was a fool to think that Drew might be safe if she were out of the picture. Suarez was obsessed with killing Drew. Probably because of what Drew had done to him at Santa Elena Canyon, including shooting his little brother.
Suarez would lure Drew, kill him slowly and painfully, then turn his attention to Beth. Suarez’s words replayed in her mind.
Perhaps I will call you mine … and let you live.
It would be better if Elizabeth Sanchez were dead than to suffer the horror-filled life and depravity Suarez had in mind. Maybe she could force him to kill her quickly. At first opportunity, she could fight him so savagely—biting, kicking, clawing at him, screaming insults—that he would have to kill her.
But the truth was, Beth was too much of a coward to attack Suarez. Then there was the greatest truth of all … Suarez should have already killed her … eight years ago. Both Drew and Beth would be far better off if he had.
Chapter 20
Drew ignored the lightning and the thunderstorms which had brought no rain. He paced the ground in front of the cabin and tried to face the truth, the truth that he wasn’t worthy of a woman like Beth Sanchez.
Beth was a good and beautiful woman, a survivor in a world filled with evil and violence.
Somehow, Drew must stop the violence of Hector Suarez. But the truth, once again, slammed him to the ground to grovel in the low place reserved for the inadequate people of the world, those who couldn’t measure up.
And what would happen if Drew went after Suarez and ended up getting Beth hurt or killed? The pain would make his life unbearable.
Maybe he could checkout of life. He could find Suarez, walk into his camp, and die while killing the man. But there was no guarantee Drew could accomplish that, even if he was willing to die
to kill that snake, Suarez.
Drew had developed considerable skill with weapons. He had honed his martial arts skills to near perfection. But none of that was enough to insure his success.
In the distance, a cry sounded. It had come from the west, somewhere near the base of the ridge. The cry rose above the low rumble of the thunderstorms. Was it the scream of a woman? Or was it a bobcat?
Beth? It couldn’t be her.
His heart hammered in his chest.
Drew slung open the front door and ran into the cabin.
Beth wasn’t there.
His eyes focused on a pad of paper and a pen on the table. They hadn’t been there earlier.
Hands shaking and fearing the worst, he walked to the table. A short note had been scrawled on the paper.
He read the note. It punched all the air from his lungs and all the life from his heart.
Beth had preferred risking Suarez to escape from Drew. How could her contempt for him be so strong that she preferred falling into the hands of Suarez? And how could disdain grow so rapidly in a heart he believed he had won?
Only one answer came.
You are a failure, Drew. Inadequate for any worthy task or goal. There is no reason for your existence.
Where had those words come from? Regardless, they seemed to summarize what Drew’s grandfather had said when Drew failed to protect his sister.
He heard the sound again, so loud it came through the cabin walls.
A woman screaming.
“Drew …” Now, it was his grandfather’s voice. “I bought you that rifle because I thought you were a man. But you wouldn’t even use it to protect your sister. You don’t have it in you to be a man. Not a man in the West family.”
The scream came again, ear-piercing, heart-piercing, but intelligible.
“Help me!”
He snatched his rifle from where it stood, shoved his handgun in his belt, ran out the door, and turned toward the direction of the screaming.
In the distance, lights flickered and danced among the trees near the base of the ridge about a half mile away.
Was it a trap? Probably. That no longer mattered. The woman he loved, but didn’t deserve, was being tortured by a demon-driven drug lord, a man Drew would kill, even if it was the last act of a desperate man.