The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set by Ernest Dempsey (non fiction books to read TXT) 📕

distance between him and the man holding the woman hostage.

"He's dead, Tripp," Dak said, speaking the words as if they held no consequence, the way he would after stepping on an insect. "The other one will be soon."

Tripp's eyes flashed to Steve who lay curled up, a dark patch of crimson covering the ground under him. His movement had slowed, the severed artery in his gut pumping his life through his fingers.

"You killed them," Tripp muttered through a flood of confusion and anger. "You murdered them!"

"You murdered them, Tripp," Dak said. "Your decision to try to rape and then murder this woman to cover it up sentenced them to death."

Tripp's nostrils flared. His breathing quickened. He swallowed and pressed the edge of the knife against his captive's throat. Andy Eller's voice kept coming through the phone at her feet, just loud enough to hear him attempting to calm the situation down.

"They were my friends," Tripp said as sobs filled his voice. "And you murdered them in cold blood." The words fluttered through trembling lips.

"I think you need to reassess what your definition of cold blood means," Dak said. "Now, let her go. Put the knife down."

Tripp shook his head. "No. That's not how this is going to end, stranger. I'll slit her throat and then I'll kill you."

Dak's target stood less than twenty feet away.

"Let her go, Tripp," Dak said. "This ends one of two ways: you in the back of a squad car, or dead here in a bar parking lot with your friends. Choice is yours."

A sick laugh escaped Tripp's lips, and he shook his head in denial. "You think that's how this is going to go? Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Do you know who my dad is?"

"Local sheriff?" Dak answered. "I'm sure he holds a great deal of sway over the... thousand or so people who live in this area, but I don't think there's much he can do here. You tried to rape that woman. And I overheard you talking about killing her after the fact. So you can either let her go right now, put down the knife, and let her husband arrest you, or you can be stupid and die right now. To be honest, I don't care either way. I'm not here for you."

Tripp narrowed his eyes at the last part. His eyelids could have pinched a gnat they were so close. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That's none of your concern. Your only concern is that you don't have to die tonight like your friends. They made their choice. You can go to prison for a while, serve your time, and get out—hopefully a better person."

"No," Tripp said, his head twisting again. "You killed my friends."

Tanya shook in his grip, too afraid to move lest the knife sink into her throat and slit the artery. A thin trickle of blood oozed out from under the blade's edge.

"If anyone is going to prison, it's you. For murder! My daddy will make sure of that! I promise you!"

Dak sighed, knowing the man had made his decision.

"And the first thing I'm going to do is cut this—" he started to use a derogatory slur regarding Tanya, but the word never came.

In the blink of an eye, Dak's right hand snapped up and forward. The fingers pinching the blade released, and the knife cartwheeled though the air with blinding speed, the sharp point sinking into Tripp's right eye.

His grip on Tanya weakened instantly as he wavered and then fell backward onto the ground, his own blade clanking on the surrounding rocks.

Tanya dared to look back at the dead man and then shrieked. Her screams echoed through the valley as she doubled over, expelling a wave of terror, confusion, and anger.

Dak glanced over at the shortest of Tripp's crew. He didn't move, and Dak figured he'd succumbed to his injuries. He lingered for a second, giving Tanya a minute to collect herself before he spoke. When he did, it was in a matter-of-fact tone with only a sprinkling of empathy.

"You okay?" he asked.

She'd stopped screaming, but her breaths still came quickly. She rounded on him and nodded. "You saved my life," she said, tears welling in her eyes.

"I was lucky to be in the right place," he said. "That's all."

She shook her head vehemently. "No. What you just did." Her eyes played out over the grisly scene. "No normal person can do that. You some kind of killer or something?"

"No." A partial lie. "I'm trained. That's all you need to know. And don't bother asking who I am." He turned halfway to his vehicle. "Please, do me a favor, don't try to find me. Okay?" His eyes wandered to the phone at her feet.

"You said you weren't here for them," she realized, the words coming out half consciously.

"I'm not," he admitted. "And I'm not here for the sheriff or your husband, either. Someone owes me a debt. I'm here to collect. When I'm done, you won't see me again. Ever. Understand?"

She nodded, not truly understanding.

"Tanya?" Andy's voice crackled through the speaker on the phone. "Tanya, are you there? I'm en route. Please, baby, answer me!"

"You should get that," Dak said. "Your husband sounds like a good man. He'll know what to do with all this."

She abruptly remembered her husband on the phone and bent down to pick it up. She pressed it to her ear and looked back to the spot where the stranger stood. He'd already made it back to his SUV and climbed in. The engine groaned to life, and the man sped out onto the road. She watched the red taillights disappear around the bend as the sound of sirens pierced the silent valley from the other direction.

Nine

Cuchara

Sheriff Craig Sanders slammed the door to his police car and stormed across the gravel to the yellow police line. One of the officers standing guard saw him coming and raised the tape without needing to be told.

Floodlights dumped bright hues across the crime scene; most