CANARY

by Tijan

  I ran. But I only took two steps before a pair of arms caught me.

  “No!” I screamed.

  “We got her, boss. Tell the bastard to stop.” That voice came from the darkness.

  I saw two shadows. There were two men, not just the one holding me. Gus gave a primal growl and attacked. He lunged for the guy holding me, and I dropped to the ground immediately as the guy screamed. He hit the ground, and Gus went for his throat.

  I heard a gun cock, and I whirled, shooting before I could think.

  The other guy was going to kill Gus. I didn’t know where I’d hit him, but I kept shooting until the gun fell from his hand and his body thudded to the ground.

  I didn’t look. I didn’t want to see him, so I turned toward where the other guy was lying.

  Gus stood over him and growled, right in his face.

  The guy was bleeding from his arm and throat, but his eyes were trained on me. He tried lifting his free hand—in submission, I think—but Gus kept him from moving much at all.

  This man had tracked me. He’d caught me. He wanted to turn me over to Estrada.

  I shivered. I knew the ending of that story.

  I would not go back—but dammit, I also knew I couldn’t kill a man in cold blood. That was a line I would never cross. I couldn’t say it enough. Never ever.

  He seemed to understand my decision because he fell back in relief, giving up any more fight.

  I went over and picked up his gun, and the other gun. I grabbed the radio they’d been using to communicate, and as I dressed in real clothes and not what I’d been sleeping in, I put it in my back pocket. The guy watched me, tracking my every movement. I didn’t care what he’d see. I couldn’t turn my back on him.

  When I was finished, I stood. “What’s going on back there?”

  “Your boy is killing everyone.”

  “What?”

  “Your boy. Raize. He’s executing everyone. He’s looking for you.”

  That didn’t make sense. “You drove up with four trucks of men. There were four of us against all of you.”

  “That didn’t last long. Three minutes in, we were getting picked off one by one. Sniper was set up somewhere. That’s Raize’s calling.”

  Raize was a sniper? “Estrada declined the offer?”

  “Guessing. We were told to take out the men and grab the girl. I don’t know why Estrada wanted you.”

  The head of a cartel wanted to kidnap me? I didn’t like it.

  I had to get going. I’d lost too much time talking to him. I wouldn’t kill him, but because I wasn’t seriously stupid, I took aim and shot him in the foot.

  “Ahhhh! You bitch!”

  The shooting lessons came in handy.

  I sheathed the gun and started running. I had a plan in my head by now. I’d go along the road—not on the road, but beside it, and I’d wait for… No. Screw that.

  I had my phone! And Raize was still alive.

  I checked it, seeing he’d called me. Ten missed calls.

  I hit one, calling him back.

  He answered at the end of the first ring. “Where are you?”

  “Came across the creek. The road isn’t far.”

  “Estrada sent men after you.”

  “Two are down. Did he send more?”

  A pause, then a curse. “He sent them all after you. Two are down?”

  “Shot one dead, or I’m assuming. Shot the other one in the foot. Gus took him down.”

  “Gus is with you?”

  I bit my lip. “Yes.” I couldn’t lie. He already knew.

  “You went back for the dog?!”

  “Lecture me later, how about?” I snapped.

  “That fucking dog is your weakness.”

  As if understanding, Gus let out a small growl. I started to laugh, but then saw Gus staring behind us, stalking.

  “Someone’s coming.”

  “Estrada’s men called in your location. I heard them on the radio. Get to the road. Cavers and Jake are driving, looking for you.”

  They’d gotten out. Another miracle.

  My throat swelled, and I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Got it,” I whispered.

  Gus growled again, and he took off into the dark. A second later, more yells sounded.

  I ran after him.

  I had to save my dog.

  25

  Ash

  When I got there, three men were trying to grab Gus.

  He circled between them. One was bleeding from the leg. A second from the arm. The last was trying to aim a gun at him.

  I saw red.

  Red!

  Fuck these men.

  Fuck Estrada.

  Fuck everybody.

  I was sick and tired of seeing guns pointed at my dog!

  I emptied my clip toward the men.

  I should’ve felt remorse. Sure, they were coming to get me, but they hadn’t actually tried for me. Yet. They were just chasing me. But Gus didn’t feel the same way, and damn if he wasn’t one of the best things in my life right now, even if he had bitten me. I didn’t hold that against him. He’d been scared.

  He was more than making up for that now.

  Once I started shooting, one of the guys turned his gun on me. Gus lunged, grabbed his arm, and he was down. His hand flexed, dropping the gun. He accidentally kicked it away.

  Thank you, universe.

  I hit one of the men, and he went to the ground, cradling his arm. The third ran off.

  There was a crash through some bushes behind me.

  I whirled, almost swaying on my feet, but dammit. No. I could still fight.

  I would fight.

  Raize appeared, and I almost fainted from the relief. A part of me had dissociated from what was happening here. That’s all that made sense because I was appreciating the hotness of his whole soldier and ghost-look, appearing through the mist, sort of experience here. I mean, it was bushes and not mist, but he’d been off taking out Estrada’s men, one after another and whoosh, he was here.

  He drew up short. He was dressed in black, a gun hanging across his back.

  He blinked once, taking it all in.

  Then he scooped up the abandoned gun, flipped it around, and bent, bringing it down across the face of the guy fighting with Gus. As soon as the guy went unconscious, Gus stopped biting and stepped back. He looked up at Raize, waiting.

  Raize repeated the action with the second man.

  “A third guy took off that way.” I pointed.

  Raize nodded, bringing a radio to his mouth. “Estrada has a guy running your way. Scoop him up.”

  Crackle.

  “Got it.” That was Cavers, and then more crackling before nothing.

  Raize put the radio back in his pocket and gestured to me. “Are you going to pass out?”

  “Me?” I squeaked, feeling myself weaving. “Totally fine. Peachy even. I killed a man, and shot two others. I’m A-ok.” I tried to give him a thumbs-up, but my thumb was two now. I raised my other thumb, and it was the same. I had four thumbs.

  Thinking there was more than disassociating going on here, but who was I to say? I wasn’t a professional, except in gut hunches. I was getting a reputation, with my own street name. How cool was that?

  Yeah. Still dissociating. Or something was dissociating. Probably my sanity.

  That felt more right.

  Raize cursed, crossing and putting his arm around me. “You can’t pass out. I can’t carry you this time.”

  He’d carried me another time? When was that? Oh yeah. Oscar’s. Well, I hadn’t passed out that time. He’d taken me kicking and screaming.

  I looked down and Gus smiled at me, his tail wagging.

  There were three Guses. They were following each other in a circle.

  I would’ve loved to have three Guses.

  “Sit.” Raize pressed me down to the ground, his hands on my shoulders. He wasn’t rough, just assertive. He was good like that—always knowing the right touch, the
right amount of pressure. And that had me remembering another time…

  He knelt beside me and pushed my head between my legs. “Breathe. Don’t move until the ground stops moving.”

  Yeah. Because that was happening. The ground was a constant ripple, like a gravel river. It was kinda pretty.

  Raize was up and talking to someone. I ceased listening. Everything would be fine. Raize was here. He always kept me safe.

  Gus licked my face. Man, I really loved my dog.

  I threw an arm around him, cuddling his wiggly body up against me, and he started licking the other side of my face. He was having a grand time, cleaning all my liquids. There was probably blood there, mixed with the sweat and tears.

  I lifted my head, but the trees started circling around me, so I went back to resting it against my knees.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  I could do this.

  I felt a little better, but this sucked—always almost dying and then being out of whack because of it. Or killing someone…

  You’d think I might stop putting myself in those situations.

  But my sister. Brooke.

  I was doing this for her.

  I didn’t know how, but I’d figure it out. I just had to find her—or find out where she’d gone.

  Raize could help me. Maybe I could even tell him about her.

  Something bothered me about that… I didn’t know what.

  Maybe I wouldn’t tell Raize about her, not yet.

  Oh boy.

  The ground had stopped its river impersonation, but now I could see stars blinking at me in the gravel.

  I was about to pass out. Again.

  “Bronski called you Brooke,” Raize said, as if we were having a conversation.

  Oh…

  No.

  Had I?

  Dammit.

  I looked up and he was staring at me, his phone in hand.

  I gulped. “Is someone on that line?”

  He looked, as if he’d forgotten he was using it, and shut the screen off. “Bronski called you Brooke before. That’s the name you gave them?”

  Shit.

  So much shit.

  “I was talking out loud?” I whispered.

  He ignored that, coming closer. “What other names have you given?”

  Brooke.

  Miriam.

  Suzie.

  So many more.

  All different names until Girl, then Carrie.

  I didn’t reply because he didn’t understand. He couldn’t.

  He wouldn’t understand.

  But something transpired. He was doing his ‘watching’ thing, and he must’ve seen something because he knelt at my side.

  He leaned in, but didn’t touch me.

  That was good.

  For some reason, I didn’t want him to touch me.

  I felt raw. Exposed. I didn’t know why.

  Then I was crying again. Or had I stopped? Had I been continuously crying this whole time? Killing and crying? That was kinda badass… or wasn’t it?

  Everything was starting to swim around me again.

  I didn’t know what was going on.

  Until Raize’s voice was soft. “You asked how I knew Estrada?”

  The ground was starting to settle, a little.

  I heard more, “The sister he mentioned? I know her because she’s mine, too.”

  My head snapped up. What?!

  26

  Ash

  He stepped back, standing. “She’s my half-sister—same mother. Her other half is Estrada’s father. He took my mother as a mistress—didn’t care what family she had to leave. My dad’s from Connecticut, but was living down in Oaxaca.” He paused. “He was there for the surfing, met my mom down there. Estrada’s father knew my mom. He threatened to kill me when I was eight. He did kill my dad. I grew up in foster care, went into the army, and when I could, I went in search of my mom. Met my sister for the first time. My mom knew who I was the second I showed up. Morales. He runs the Morales cartel. Estrada was considered a bastard until he just took over another cartel. No one gave a fuck to question where he came from. Morales stepped back, let his son take power in the next region—because he considered Estrada his. But Estrada wasn’t. They hate each other, but they also love each other. The two cartels are linked by blood, and no one knows except the leaders. When I showed up, I got a job for Morales. My sister grew fond of me, started joking that I was like a big brother to her. My mom freaked and sent me to Marco. I don’t know when my sister found out who I was, but at some point, she went to him. She told him, asked that I be allowed into the family.” He stepped closer, enough so I could see his eyes flash. Hard. “He sent a hit squad after me. I got out and went north to the States, as far north as I could. I needed protection, and at the right time, Roman Marakov found me. He found me. He recruited me.” He took a break. I felt the conversation shift. He grew more, just more. I didn’t know what he was before, intent? But it was more now. He knelt back down. “You gotta talk to me. I told you my shit. You tell me yours. You gave your sister’s name because why? I gotta know what storm I’m walking into with you. I can’t see the landmines if I don’t know where to look for them.”

  I stared at him, overwhelmed by what he’d shared, but I couldn’t respond.

  A lump filled my throat, and I felt tears threatening.

  His sister was alive. I didn’t know if mine was.

  “What’s your real name?” he asked.

  I could not go there. I would not. “Ash.”

  “Bullshit. What’s your real name?”

  “Miriam.”

  His eyes went flat. “What’s your real name?”

  I continued, “Sandra.”

  “You’re lying.”

  I didn’t wait to be asked again. “Melanie.”

  I stared at him. Hard. Fierce.

  Again, “Suzie.”

  And then, “Brooke.”

  His eyes lit up, speculating. “Your sister.”

  “The first girl I found out he took.”

  I had a thing about names.

  I saw the thoughts moving. He was connecting the dots.

  He said, “Brooke. Suzie. Melanie. Miriam.”

  “You missed Sandra.”

  “Sandra.”

  I felt like fucking cement inside. “My sister fell in love—Leo this and Leo that. All she wanted to do was talk about him. She was obsessed. Then I met him, and I hated him. Didn’t matter. Our mom died, and Brooke needed an escape. He was inside her already, got her taking drugs. Got her skipping school. She ran away. Cops never looked for her. They considered her another junkie runaway. Such a sad fucking cliche story, right?” I didn’t tell him the other times the cops were at my house. I didn’t tell him the looks I got, given the family history. Made so much sense to them, that’s what one social worker said. I wanted to scratch her eyeballs out. “But I knew where she went. You know where she went. Her name was Brooke. Then I found out the other girls he took. Suzie. Melanie. Sandra. Miriam. You came along, and I was Girl. You never asked my name.” I didn’t wait. I whispered, “I have a thing about names.”

  He stared, long and hard. “Ash?”

  “Ashley Cruz. I saw her missing poster once. It was old. She was taken as a kid, pretty blonde hair. Different life, but she looked like me. Doesn’t matter if he’s not the one who got her. Someone got her.”

  She was another missing girl.

  So many.

  Too many.

  Too fucking many of them.

  “He’s on your list?”

  “He’s the first one.”

  Raize’s jaw hardened, and he stood.

  The conversation ended, just like that.

  It left me aching. And Gus’ licks weren’t helping me.

  Raize lifted the radio, pressing the button. “Where are you guys?”

  “On the road, looking for that guy.”

&n
bsp; “Swing by, pick us up.”

  “Roger.”

  “We’ll be on the driveway.”

  When the truck appeared, Raize and I both hopped into the back.

  As we drove up to the house, I saw the trucks had been abandoned. There were bodies splayed out over the grass. They’d been running for cover.

  I watched Raize.

  I couldn’t not watch Raize.

  He did all of that.

  I stayed on the back of the truck, holding Gus, who was almost in my lap, and I did what Raize always did to me. I continued to watch him.

  I watched as Cavers went to get a large roll of plastic. He kicked to spread it out, and one by one, they dragged the bodies over. They cut the plastic, rolled them up, and put them in the back of one of the trucks. When that was done, Jake drove the other trucks away, one by one. Cavers followed and brought him back each time. After three trips, there was one truck left—the one with the bodies.

  Raize had walked through the entire house by now, going room by room. When he came out, he brought some of our personal items over to the truck where I was sitting—Jake’s bag, Cavers’ coat, Cavers’ cooking knives, my book.

  Cavers and Jake left again, this time taking the bodies with them.

  Gus wouldn’t stop licking my arm.

  Looking down, wondering about a stinging I was feeling—there was blood trickling down my arm.

  I’d been shot.

  When had that happened?

  No matter. I still didn’t feel a thing.

  By the time Cavers and Jake returned in our regular car, the smoke had started.

  Raize walked out of the house. The smoke seemed to follow him. The flames were next, peeking out of the windows.

  He’d set the house on fire.

  That made sense. Destroy all the evidence? DNA? Something like that?

  Seemed like Mafia 101: destroy any trail you might leave behind.

  Cavers was the one who noticed my arm, and he shouted to Raize, who came over.

  They gathered around, and Cavers prodded my injury, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. His voice was muffled, like I was underwater. I almost preferred it this way.

  I no longer wanted to know anything.

  I no longer wanted to hear anything.