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

There
was no signal .
    She had
followed the creek as Roberto had instructed but somehow had overshot the
Chavez ranch. Unsure who else to trust, she’d avoided the roads and followed a
goat track toward town.
    She sat
up, pulled on her shoes, and continued along the track that wound along the
hill. She knew the little chapel wasn’t far away and Roberto would be there.
He’d have water in his truck.
    The track
angled down out of the hills, crossing above the church before sweeping back
down a ridgeline. The road would have been a lot quicker but there was the
threat of being caught by the thugs from the mine.
    As she
scrambled down the spur she heard yelling from the church below. She stopped at
a spot where she could see the old wooden building through the bushes, fifty
yards away. There were trucks parked in front of it. In the light cast from the
church she saw at least a dozen armed men. Her heart raced as she recognized
the Black Jackets and the Stetson-wearing cowboy. Crouching, she took a photo
with her camera phone. The LED flash lit up the shrubs around her. “Shit.”
    She crouched,
fumbling with the menu to turn the flash off. After a few seconds, when there
were no shouts from the men below, she rose slowly and snapped grainy pictures
of the armed men blocking the ranchers from escaping the church. A blast of
gunfire sent her scurrying for cover. She waited for more bullets. When none
came she pushed back the leaves for another look. The Black Jackets had closed
the church doors. Her legs felt like they were encased in concrete as the
gunmen took cans from the back of a truck and started splashing liquid on the door
and walls.
    “Oh god
no.”
    She
watched in horror as the man who had tried to rape her at the farm, the young
cartel lieutenant, flung a cigarette at the doors. There was a muffled whump
and the church burst in to flame. Tears streamed down Christina’s face as it
burned. She heard terrified screams from inside the church as the building took
light. Within seconds it was a raging inferno.
    Once the
screams subsided the Stetson-wearing man gave an order and they loaded up and
drove away.
    She ran down
the track toward the flaming pyre. The intense heat forced her back. Collapsing
to her knees, she sobbed uncontrollably, failing to notice a truck pull in behind
her.
    Roberto
ran past and tried to get to the flaming doors. He held a coat over his face
but the heat was too intense.
    “Who did
this?” he spoke hoarsely, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Was it the men from
the mine?”
    “Yes,”
she said between sobs.
    He scooped
her from the ground and bundled her into his truck. They drove back down the
track and turned out onto the main road.
    She wiped
her face with a sleeve. “Where are we going?”
    “To the
border. You’re going back to New York. You need to write your story, Christina.
You need to tell people what’s happening here.”
    “What are
you going to do?”
    “I have
friends in Chihuahua. I’ll go there and find a way to make money to buy guns.”
He turned to her, his face completely emotionless. “I’m going to kill the men
who stole my land and murdered my friends.”

 
    ***

 
    Pershing punched in a number on his
satellite phone as he travelled in the back of the Chevy. The call connected as
they turned onto the access road that wound its way through the mountains to
the mine. “I don’t think we’re going to have any more problems with the local
resistance,” he drawled.
    “Good. What
about the journalist?” The man on the other end of the call was Charles King,
the CEO of Ground Effects Services, the organization that employed Pershing to manage
the mine’s security.
    “I’ve got
her camera and her notes.”
    “That
won’t stop her from trying to sell the story.”
    “No,
you’re right. I’ve got our Agency asset looking into it. They’ll put her phones
and email under surveillance. We’ll know exactly who she’s talking to.”
    “Let me
know