Page 153 of No Greater Oblivion

“We need to find the bridge.”

Lyss turns and points. “It’s that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. I came from that direction; we’ll see it as soon as we come around the bend.”

I grab her hand and pull her after me. “Do not leave my side and stay behind me. Do you understand?”

Lyss gives a silent nod and I release her hand so she can grip the back of my coat. With all the fresh snow layered on top of what’s already turned to black ice, walking is difficult and running is impossible but I go as fast as Lyss is able to keep up with. Around the bend, the bridge comes into view but the figures there are blurred from this distance. When we’re about fifty yards away I can finally see more clearly.

Li has his arm around Dahlia’s throat and a gun to her temple.

“Let her go,” I hear Rian say. “Your problem is with me.”

Judging by his outstretched hands he either lost his weapon somewhere along the way or hasn’t been able to draw it.

The base of the bridge sits at the edge of the pond, and I guide Lyss into a well-hidden corner behind mountains of snow and dead branches. “Do not move from here.”

Lyss grabs my wrist. “Alejandro, wait⁠—”

A shrill scream cuts through the night as Rian yells Dahlia’s name. Lyss gasps at the sound of Li’s gun going off.

We both look up. At the top of the bridge, one of three bodies collapses and I have no idea who.

Rian, Li, or Dahlia.

38

GREATER LOSSES

Alejandro

The Past

Barcelona, Spain

Ihear the sound of gunshots in the back of my mind.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Bodies collapsing behind a halo of smoke. My grandfather calling out for me but his voice gets lost to the hum of chaos ringing in my ears.

There was no remorse. Only relief and the desire to do it again.

I thought killing Sandro would be different. That I would once again feel like the twelve-year-old boy in Peru who held the fate of many lives in the palm of his hands but fired his weapon regardless, without remorse or regret.