Shadow of the Vulture (Splatter Western Book 9) by Regina Garza Mitchell

Author:Regina Garza Mitchell [Mitchell, Regina Garza]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epub, ebook, QuarkXPress
Publisher: Death's Head Press
Published: 2021-03-19T20:00:00+00:00

8.

The bright moon, nearly but not quite full, floated in the darkness of the river. Juana gazed at it, not wanting to disturb it by soaking her feet. She sighed and then walked on. The night was still and cool, the air filled with the creaks and chirps of crickets and toads, the chitinous whisper of tiny legs moving through the brittle grass.

“Do you miss it?” Analisa asked.

“Miss what?”

“Home.” Her blood dripped softly onto the grass, and Juana knew that if she looked at it the patterns would reveal the boxy shape of the house they grew up in. In her mind she saw the pale stone walls, the wrought iron balconies. The various outbuildings that surrounded it. Laughing with Analisa as they planned adventures. Her brothers’ teasing. Pepe looking up with his big eyes. Her mother’s looks of reproach. Her father’s library. Everything now gone, reduced to rubble.

She shook her head. “No. That was another life.” The scar on her hand flared and she fought the urge to take out her knife and hold it. “Do you?”

Analisa stared at the sky and did not answer.

She wished she could take Analisa’s hand, that she could warm her up and bring her back to her old self. Her friend was what she missed.

***

The old woman bent over the animal, back curved into a tight arch as she squatted. Her head was inside the burro’s stomach. Juana stopped walking, not wanting to get any closer.

“That’s sick.” Analisa’s mouth pulled back into half a grimace. They listened, fascinated, to the slurping sounds she made before grasping both sides of the animal and pulling herself out, like a birth. She shook her head back and forth to tear off a piece of gristle with her teeth. The crickets had quieted, and the only sounds were the loud smacks she made as she worked to chew the meat. She licked bloody slime off of her fingers before beckoning to Juana.

“Both of you,” she said, “come.”

Juana did not move immediately. This woman could see Analisa?

She jolted forward as Analisa nudged her. “What are you waiting for? We don’t want to be disrespectful.” Analisa gave the woman her lopsided smile and pushed past Juana. “Thank you, abuela.”

It was a dream, of course. Juana had left Pepe a few days ago. She remembered walking away wondering if the vultures would pick his bones clean.

“And I thank you for that,” the old woman said. “Many blessings on you.”

Juana tried to keep her face from showing the mix of surprise and disgust that she felt. Flecks of matter clung to the old woman’s face and the hairs that clung to her balding head. The blood gave her skin a dark sheen. Juana tried not to breathe in the fumes of rot that clung to the old woman, an older scent of decay that clashed with the fresher, meatier rot of the dead animal.

Juana said nothing but stood next to Analisa across from the old woman.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. “Soldadera Without Mercy.

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