with didn’t, either.
Gabrio fingered the crucifix again and mumbled bits and pieces of a Bible verse his mother had taught him, something about the valley of the shadow of death and fearing no evil. It didn’t help, though, because the truth was that Gabrio feared evil. He feared it a lot. Because now, when he looked into his brother’s eyes, that was exactly what he saw.
Adam lay in the backseat of Enrique’s car, pulling against the rope that bound his hands behind his back, a subdued but frantic resistance to what he knew was coming. The rope ground into his wrists, but still he fought it, reaching for a miracle, praying for deliverance, even as he was filled with the sickening knowledge that these were his last few minutes on earth.
The car slowed. Stopped. Enrique killed the engine. In the sudden quiet, Adam could hear the pulse of blood racing through his veins and echoing in his ears.
Ivan got out and yanked the back door open. Enrique came around, and together they grabbed Adam’s arms and pulled him from the car. Enrique opened the trunk, extracted a rifle, and lobbed it to Ivan.
Another car approached, headlights ripping through the night. For a moment, Adam was filled with hope. Then he saw who got out of the car.
Gabrio approached, his eyes widening when he saw Adam. “What the hell is he doing here? I thought—”
“Slight miscalculation,” Enrique said. “Seems he wasn’t on the plane.”
“But since everybody already thinks he’s dead,” Ivan added, “we’re going to make sure that happens.”
Every word they spoke sent waves of sickening disbelief through Adam. Was Gabrio a possible ally, or was he as ruthless as his brother?
“This is murder, Gabrio,” Adam said. “You’re crossing a line here, and you can’t go back. Just by being here, you’re guilty, too. You know that, don’t you?”
“Shut up,” Ivan said.
“How can you drag him into this?” Adam shouted. “He’s just a kid!”
“Yeah, and all kids got to grow up, don’t they?” Ivan turned to Gabrio. “You got any problem with this?”
“Course not,” Gabrio said.
Ivan looked back at Adam. “Turn around and start walking.”
“What are you doing?” Gabrio said.
Ivan grabbed Adam by the arm, spun him around, and gave him a shove. “Blood spatters.”
Adam walked about ten feet to the edge of the road, stopping at the point where the shoulder took a steep dive down a hillside. He turned back to face the garish glow of the headlights.
“Turn around!” Ivan shouted.
Of all the ways Adam thought he might die, this was beyond his comprehension. Tremors of fear raced through him, the cold, dark terror that came from looking straight into death. He refused to give in to it. Instead, he met Ivan’s gaze.
“No. If you’re going to pull that trigger, you’re going to have to look me in the eye when you do it.”
“You think that’s a problem for me or something?”
“Shit, man,” Enrique said. “Shoot him, or I’m going to.” Adam glanced at Gabrio. The kid stood stock-still, his eyes wide, not moving a muscle.
“You’re not like them, Gabrio,” Adam called out to him.
“You don’t have to be like them. Don’t ruin your life. Do you hear me?”
“Shut up!” Ivan said.
“Go to Sera. She’ll help you. Just go to Sera—”
Ivan raised his rifle to his shoulder, and a shot exploded. Adam flinched at the last moment, but the bullet struck him in the chest and spun him around. The momentum sent him tumbling down the steep hillside, his head whacking hard on a protruding rock. It felt as if he fell forever before finally coming to rest at the bottom of the hill, his body twisted, his hands still bound tightly behind his back.
Oddly, he felt nothing. No pain. Nothing. Instead, he had the strangest feeling of floating, as if he were evaporating from the earth. A light appeared, a bright, stunning light that seemed to fill his mind. And in it, hovering like an apparition, was
Gabrio fingered the crucifix again and mumbled bits and pieces of a Bible verse his mother had taught him, something about the valley of the shadow of death and fearing no evil. It didn’t help, though, because the truth was that Gabrio feared evil. He feared it a lot. Because now, when he looked into his brother’s eyes, that was exactly what he saw.
Adam lay in the backseat of Enrique’s car, pulling against the rope that bound his hands behind his back, a subdued but frantic resistance to what he knew was coming. The rope ground into his wrists, but still he fought it, reaching for a miracle, praying for deliverance, even as he was filled with the sickening knowledge that these were his last few minutes on earth.
The car slowed. Stopped. Enrique killed the engine. In the sudden quiet, Adam could hear the pulse of blood racing through his veins and echoing in his ears.
Ivan got out and yanked the back door open. Enrique came around, and together they grabbed Adam’s arms and pulled him from the car. Enrique opened the trunk, extracted a rifle, and lobbed it to Ivan.
Another car approached, headlights ripping through the night. For a moment, Adam was filled with hope. Then he saw who got out of the car.
Gabrio approached, his eyes widening when he saw Adam. “What the hell is he doing here? I thought—”
“Slight miscalculation,” Enrique said. “Seems he wasn’t on the plane.”
“But since everybody already thinks he’s dead,” Ivan added, “we’re going to make sure that happens.”
Every word they spoke sent waves of sickening disbelief through Adam. Was Gabrio a possible ally, or was he as ruthless as his brother?
“This is murder, Gabrio,” Adam said. “You’re crossing a line here, and you can’t go back. Just by being here, you’re guilty, too. You know that, don’t you?”
“Shut up,” Ivan said.
“How can you drag him into this?” Adam shouted. “He’s just a kid!”
“Yeah, and all kids got to grow up, don’t they?” Ivan turned to Gabrio. “You got any problem with this?”
“Course not,” Gabrio said.
Ivan looked back at Adam. “Turn around and start walking.”
“What are you doing?” Gabrio said.
Ivan grabbed Adam by the arm, spun him around, and gave him a shove. “Blood spatters.”
Adam walked about ten feet to the edge of the road, stopping at the point where the shoulder took a steep dive down a hillside. He turned back to face the garish glow of the headlights.
“Turn around!” Ivan shouted.
Of all the ways Adam thought he might die, this was beyond his comprehension. Tremors of fear raced through him, the cold, dark terror that came from looking straight into death. He refused to give in to it. Instead, he met Ivan’s gaze.
“No. If you’re going to pull that trigger, you’re going to have to look me in the eye when you do it.”
“You think that’s a problem for me or something?”
“Shit, man,” Enrique said. “Shoot him, or I’m going to.” Adam glanced at Gabrio. The kid stood stock-still, his eyes wide, not moving a muscle.
“You’re not like them, Gabrio,” Adam called out to him.
“You don’t have to be like them. Don’t ruin your life. Do you hear me?”
“Shut up!” Ivan said.
“Go to Sera. She’ll help you. Just go to Sera—”
Ivan raised his rifle to his shoulder, and a shot exploded. Adam flinched at the last moment, but the bullet struck him in the chest and spun him around. The momentum sent him tumbling down the steep hillside, his head whacking hard on a protruding rock. It felt as if he fell forever before finally coming to rest at the bottom of the hill, his body twisted, his hands still bound tightly behind his back.
Oddly, he felt nothing. No pain. Nothing. Instead, he had the strangest feeling of floating, as if he were evaporating from the earth. A light appeared, a bright, stunning light that seemed to fill his mind. And in it, hovering like an apparition, was
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