PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) Read Free

to your farm.” Roberto was half listening to what the young activist was
saying. He was advocating a campaign of demonstrations and petitions to stop
the encroachment of the mine on the environment and the local ranches.
    “Does
anyone have anything they want to add?” asked the Mayor when the activist was
finished.
    There was
silence as the farmers looked at each other. Many of them cast enquiring
glances at Roberto. Word of what happened at the Soto ranch had spread.
    Roberto stood.
“You’re sadly mistaken if you think you can negotiate or petition these people.
They’re not like us.”
    “You’re
right, they’re not like you at all. But, they are a legitimate corporate entity
and they have to follow rules,” responded the young man. His groomed beard complemented
his hip clothes and the intricate tattoos that covered both his arms. “We can
raise awareness, sign petitions, generate social media interest, and force the
mine to adopt cleaner, safer methods.”
    Roberto
had taken Christina to meet with the activist the previous day. A graduate of an
exclusive college, he had travelled from Mexico City to raise awareness about
the pollution that monstruo was
spewing into the waterways. While that was a concern for the ranchers, being forced
from their land was the more pressing issue.
    Roberto
grimaced. “Have you heard of the Chaquetas Negras?” he asked.
    The man shook
his head.
    “The Chaquetas
Negras, the Black Jackets, are a narco cartel. If you expose them, they will kill
you. Then they will skin you and hang your body for the world to see. These are
the men forcing us from our lands so the Americans can dig for gold.”
    “Yes
but–”
    Roberto
held up his hand. “We appreciate your help but you need to understand. The only
thing the Chaquetas respect is force.”
    An older
man, one of the wealthiest in the area, stood. “And how do you expect us to
show them force, Roberto? We have shotguns and hunting rifles. They would kill
us.”
    “We raise
funds and we buy weapons. We form an autodefensa and we fight back.”
    The man gave
an indignant laugh. “You’re dreaming.”
    “What
other option do we have?” replied Roberto.
    “We could
pack up and leave like you.”
    The broad-shouldered
rancher clenched his fists and glared. He stormed outside and lit a cigarette.
      Chavez joined him. “Don’t listen to him.
There was nothing you could do.” He lit his own cigarette. “What happened to
the journalist?”
    Roberto
breathed in the smoke and exhaled. “I’m not sure. I’m going to go try and find
her. She might have made it to Emilio’s farm.”
    Chavez
shook his head. “That stubborn old fool won’t leave his land, not even for
this.” A set of headlights appeared on the road leading to the church. “There’s
more people coming. Perhaps we can convince them to fight?”
    “You
stay. I need to go find the girl.” Roberto climbed into his truck and drove
down the road. A few hundred yards before the approaching headlights he turned
down the track that led into the valley Christina would have followed. He
missed seeing the two black SUVs and a pickup truck full of gunmen racing
toward the church.

 
    ***

 
    Christina
sat on a slab of rock the size of a snooker table watching the headlights on
the road below. She slipped off her shoes to rest her feet. They were swollen
and tender from walking all day on the rocky ground. Laying back on the smooth
rock, she licked her cracked lips. What she wouldn’t give for a bottle of
water. Throughout the day the sun had been unrelenting. The stunted trees that speckled
the hills offered little in the way of shade. Fortunately, now the sun had
dropped behind the horizon, the conditions were pleasant. There was a cool
breeze rolling over the hills and the first stars were glimmering in the sky.
Christina could almost forget what had happened at the ranch that morning,
almost. She checked her cell phone. The time read just after seven p.m.