Retribution Road Jon Coon (best android ereader TXT) 📖

“Nothing yet, but I expect I’ll be getting a call any day now. The same kind of call Senator Benson got yesterday. The cartel has threatened to kill them if we don’t back off.”

“Any leads at all?” Gabe asked.

“We’ve got people in Mexico looking. Good people. Perhaps soon.”

Moonlight streamed in the high window of his whitewashed, stone-walled hospital room. The room had a musty smell, and looking up at the single window he could see the outer wall was over two feet thick. This place must be really old, he thought, like an old castle or something.

Paul had been awake for an hour trying to find a comfortable spot in the very uncomfortable hospital bed. He’d not been out of that bed since arriving, and try as hard as he could to estimate the time, he had no idea how many days that had been. His head was clearer now than it had been, but he was also feeling some pain. He needed to go to the bathroom and couldn’t quite reach the urinal on the nightstand. As he stretched for it, he thought he could probably get out of the bed without falling. He lowered the safety rail and swung his feet toward the floor. He slid off the edge until he was standing and then held on to the railing while the room began spinning. He was panting, unable to get his breath, and then the lights went out.

He fell forward into the nightstand and the metal urinal went flying, clanging across the cement floor. His door opened immediately and the girl with the snakes on her arms was kneeling beside him.

“Dolor?” she asked and pointed to his wounds in his back. She put her arm around him and, with strong legs, helped him to his feet. “Dolor?” she repeated.

“I don’t understand,” Paul said. He tried to stand straighter, wanting to stretch his neck and back.

“Dolor. Pain,” she said in heavily accented English. She gently touched his back where the dressings were.

“A little,” Paul answered and then remembered a word from his high school Spanish. “Pequeño. Small. Just a little.”

“Yes.”

“El baño, por favor.”

She looked at him askance, and he smiled back.

“I’m okay. I can make it.”

“Si. Okay.” She put his arm over her shoulder and her arm around his waist and took a step toward the bathroom.

“I can go by myself,” he said and tried to pull away.

“No,” she said and pulled him back. “Baño. Go.”

When they got to the door, she stood behind him holding him up while he went. When he finished, she said, “Bueno,” and marched him back to bed. She picked up the fallen urinal and replaced it on the nightstand and helped him adjust the pillows. “Dolor?” she asked again.

He shook his head. “What’s your name?” he asked. What is your name? Maybe I should have paid better attention in that Spanish class. This is kinda fun.

“No nombre. No.” She wagged a finger at him and frowned. She looked him over one more time and then left the room. He heard the door lock after she closed it.

Sunlight flooded the room when he awoke, and a tall, dark-complected officer was standing at the foot of his bed. Paul did his best to pull himself up in the bed and face the man without showing the fear that knotted his stomach.

“Good morning, amigo.”

His English was good, his demeanor friendly. His uniform was pressed with crisp pleats. There were epaulettes on his shoulders with a single five-pointed black star on each. Unlike anything Paul recalled on other uniforms.

“Good morning.”

“I understand you are healing well. Your nurse tells me you were able to get out of bed last night. So I think it’s time for us to talk about the rules.”

“Okay.”

“As you probably know, we brought you here for a reason. I’m sorry that it was a painful journey for you, but our doctors did a good job removing the bullets, and you should be able to start getting some exercise in a week or two.”

“Why am I here?”

“Fair question. Your grandfather is Captain Thomas Bright of the Texas Rangers, correct?”

Paul hesitated.

“We know that’s true, so you might as well admit it.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“We have a business, a very good business, but your grandfather has become a problem for us. So rather than just kill him or kill all of you, we brought you here to assure his cooperation. As long as he does as we ask, you will be treated well.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Do you really have to ask? Let’s just assume he values your life enough to do as he’s told.”

“Okay.”

“Now, while you are our guest, there are just a few rules: If you try to escape, you will be shot. If you find any way to communicate with your family, you will be shot and then so will your family. If you gain information about the location of this hospital from any of the staff, they will be shot, and if any of them give you any other information about us, including any of our names, they will be shot. You asked your nurse her name last night. If you want to see her again, don’t do that. Understand?”

“I guess so.”

“Not good enough. I will repeat anything that isn’t clear.”

“I understand. No questions; don’t try to escape; don’t try to call home. Anything else?”

“Yes. Forget everything you saw and heard about Chica. She never existed.”

“She shot me; that one’s easy.”

“Good. Now, when you are able, we’ll find something for you to do. I understand you like to dive?”

“Yes, diving is cool.”

“Good. Look forward to that. And keep working on your Spanish. It will help in your new job. In a day or so we’ll call your grandfather. Give you two a chance to catch up. That will be fun, no?”

Paul lay on his bed staring at the cobwebs in the corner and wondering how he would ever get out of