Outlaws by Matt Rogers (phonics books TXT) 📕

I were with him from the moment we approached him. Except for when we got out.’

‘That didn’t work, though. He wasn’t distracted enough.’

King pivoted, still sitting in the dirt. He looked back over his shoulder. Damien was still there, shoulders slumped, hair flipping side to side in the wind. He was cold and unnerved and terrified of the solitude that awaited, the new life he would have to build for himself, the new identity he’d have to forge. And now he was doubly shocked by the brief gunfight he’d witnessed.

The kid had no idea how his appearance had saved everything.

King nodded a silent thanks to the kid, which he knew would go uninterpreted.

He didn’t care.

He knew his mercy had saved Violetta’s life.

She looked at the kid, too. They were far enough away to be out of earshot, especially with the wind. She said, ‘You missed one.’

King said, ‘No I didn’t.’

She looked at him. ‘He’s young, and he’s here. You know what that means.’

‘He’s the boss?’

‘Precisely.’

‘He’s no boss.’

‘His father is someone important, obviously.’

‘So he should be held accountable for his father’s business?’

‘He’s here,’ Violetta said. ‘How many containers do you think he saw come in? How many times do you think he watched his men force themselves on the slaves? Not to mention the ordinary business of the cartels — drugs, guns, extortion, murder. He was witness to all of it. He did nothing about it.’

‘It’s not that simple.’

‘It is. Not to mention he’s a witness.’

‘It’s not,’ King said, lowering his voice. ‘You haven’t seen the side of humanity I’ve seen. You think people just start evil? They’re corrupted over time, each and every one of them. He was being corrupted — by all the people around him, by the fact he couldn’t do anything to stop it, by the knowledge of what his family does, by the life he sees no way out of.’

For the first time, she truly looked at him. Saw past the stereotype. And King thought he saw her register that something was different. This kid had no ambition. Nor was there relief on his face — he seemingly didn’t care that he’d been spared.

Violetta said, ‘You think he’ll find a normal life? This is all he’s known.’

‘He can try,’ King said. ‘We owe him that much. If he hadn’t walked out when he did, Banks’ first shot would have gone through your skull.’

She stared at him. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

He got up and helped her to her feet in turn. They dusted themselves off and took a moment to survey the bodies. Joshua Banks, Jack Coombs, and a compound of sicarios.

Seventeen dead, in total.

She said, ‘Is this the way you thought it would go?’

‘Not even close. But at least it resolved everything.’

She said, ‘Almost everything.’

The trailer loomed over them.

King nodded. ‘Let’s get to it.’

He vaulted up through the open driver’s door, into the seat he’d been forced out of minutes earlier.

All those minutes ago.

Back when everyone was alive.

It was a strange world he lived in, and he’d never fully adjust.

Violetta rounded the hood and got in beside him. The cabin felt enormous with just two people in it. King worked the ignition and listened to the behemoth rumble slowly to life. Through the windshield, he watched Damien sit down on the porch, taking stock of what had happened here.

King executed a sweeping three-point turn in the courtyard and drove the truck out through the open gate.

Objective cleared.

87

The truck plunged into anonymity as soon as it mounted the highway back to the coastline.

Just another set of headlights in the night.

Nothing to do with the scene of slaughter in the rear view mirror.

Violetta got on the phone immediately. They were both balls of tension, their sanity threatening to unwind if they received bad news. Violetta no doubt more concerned about Beckham, King more concerned about Slater. But not by much. There was equal worry for the party in general.

And they both knew, if one was dead, the other likely was too.

Because Slater would go down fighting to avenge Beckham — that’s the way he was wired. And if Slater wound up dead before he reached the Hooper Quadriplegic Centre, then Beckham’s fate was sealed also.

King sensed the phone pressed to her ear, but she wasn’t speaking. He focused on the unchanging highway flying past underneath the truck and nothing else.

The knot that had found its home in his gut returned with full intensity.

Then he heard a tinny voice from the speaker, muffled by Violetta’s ear.

She said, ‘Do you have him?’

An answer came.

She said, ‘Is he hurt?’

Another answer.

She said, ‘Alexis. She’s okay too?’

A single syllable that could only have been, Yes.

Violetta breathed out, and so did King.

She said, ‘Okay. Still good to follow the plan we discussed?’

Another, Yes.

She said, ‘Speak soon.’

She clicked off.

King bowed his head to the top of the wheel. When he finally sat up, he shook his head. He could see her in his peripheral vision, staring vacantly out the windshield, wondering what might have been.

Which made him think.

He said, ‘I was stupid.’

She said, ‘Why?’

‘I hadn’t seen combat since New York. I don’t think I fully believed in myself. So I gave up on the idea of storming in there and letting loose with bullets straight away. I thought I’d have to present the human cargo first, prove my presence in the compound was justified. Then flip the switch and start executing them silently. Berserker mode would have been the right choice, because it meant I could have left the container out of it.’

Violetta said nothing.

King turned to her. ‘If we all died back there, no one would know. The women would be sitting in that container, helpless. I’m a moron for bringing them back into danger when I’d already got them out of it.’

She said, ‘All “what-ifs.” You didn’t fail. They’re alive.’

‘But I didn’t trust myself,’ he said. ‘That can’t happen again.’

She stared. ‘You think it’s because of the hiatus you took?’

‘Quite possibly.’

‘Then what are you saying is the solution?’

‘Work harder. Do more.’

‘Isn’t that why