AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It smashes against the rocks, filling the air with powder.
The engine of the train is almost to the bridge. I find a handhold on the top of the train, take one second to steel myself for what I’m about to do, then swing down, feet first, into the open freight car.
Parker, leaning over a wooden crate, spins around in surprise.
I throw a hard punch into his throat, sending him stumbling backward, gasping for air and clutching at his neck. He throws his other arm into the air to balance himself, and I grab his wrist and give it a twist, using his momentum to drive him down onto the steel floor of the car. If I’m no match for him in a fistfight, then I can’t give him a chance to fight back. I bend his arm behind his back, pin him to the floor with my knee, and handcuff his wrist. He squirms beneath me, coughing hard, but I manage to twist his other arm into position and get the teeth of the cuffs around the second wrist.
I stand back and let him squirm around into a sitting position, his arms cuffed behind his back. He takes great wheezing breaths, finally getting enough air into his lungs.
“You son of a bitch,” he rasps.
“Now,” I say, looking around and taking in the scene, “it’s over.”
The inside of the freight car is empty except for one crate, four or five feet wide and almost as tall, that was fastened to the wall by compression straps. The straps have been cut and the lid pried open.
Inside, the contents are separated by a wooden partition. One side contains a scattering of drug kilos, what’s left of what Parker was tossing out the door.
The other side is full of cash wrapped neatly in stacks.
Lying on the floor is a duffel bag partly filled with money. It’s clear that Parker’s bag won’t hold all of it, but then again, the plan had been for both he and Ellis to be here to load up.
“So you’re destroying the drugs and taking the money?” I say to Parker.
He spits blood and says, “Why couldn’t you just let me go, Rory?”
“Parker,” I say, feeling a strong sense of satisfaction in saying these words, “you’re under arrest.”
He glances out the open door.
“Sorry, old friend,” he says, grinning, “this is my stop.”
He jumps to his feet and darts toward the opening. I reach out to stop him, but I’m too slow. He soars out the window, and I race to the opening, expecting to see his body crashing against the rocks.
But we’re going over the bridge.
Parker plummets toward the slate-gray water of the Pecos River a hundred feet below. He splashes into the surface and disappears beneath it. The water is choppy with white wavelets, and a moment after he’s gone, there’s no sign of him whatsoever.
I think he’s not going to come up, but finally his head bobs to the surface, and he starts drifting under the bridge with the current.
The train keeps moving, pulling me toward the other side of the canyon.
I have to act fast.
Without thinking, I leap out the door toward the river below.
CHAPTER 55
TERROR GRIPS ME as the water rushes upward toward me. I have time to think that I’ve made a terrible mistake—that I’m going to die—and then my bootless feet smack painfully against the surface, and my body plunges deep into cold water. I flail my arms, trying to get to the surface.
When my head breaks free, I gasp and tread water. The water churns around me, and I slap my hands against the surface, trying to orient myself. The current drags me under the bridge, which, as I crane my head to look up, seems unbelievably high from here.
I spot Parker, twenty or thirty feet from me, coming out from under the shadow of the bridge and struggling to keep his mouth above water. His head disappears below the surface for a moment, then bobs up again. He spits water and coughs.
The current is strong, the water choppy, and it’s all I can do to keep my head above water. But Parker’s hands are cuffed behind his back.
He goes under again.
I stroke toward him, but progress is slow. I feel like I’m swimming against a rip current. Parker’s head barely surfaces, just his face, and he gurgles out a stream of water before dropping below again. I swim harder than I’ve ever swum in my life, my arms pumping, my legs kicking. Muscles burning, I arrive to where I think he should be, but I can’t find any sign of him.
