Sydney Rye Mysteries Books 7-9 by Emily Kimelman

Author:Emily Kimelman [Kimelman, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emily Kimelman

The knife was her father's. It had a bone handle and a pointed blade that was serrated half way down. Zerzan showed it to me, turning the weapon over in her hand, as she rinsed off the blood. The blade caught the light from the Humvee fire and lightning flickered off of it. I blinked, trying to clear it.

"How did you know he wouldn't shoot you?"

"I didn't." Zerzan's attention stayed on the weapon in her hands. "My father always told me that it was important to be brave but that it could get you killed. I am not like these men." Zerzan gestured with her knife, water spraying off the tip. "I do not think there is Heaven waiting for me. I do not believe that once I am gone, I'll meet some type of greater glory. This…" She looked up at me, seeing if I understood what "this" meant: this place, this plane of existence, this life. I nodded. "This is all it will ever be and so I don't think that God protects me, but I do think that something does. I am not afraid to die. But I do not think a man with a gun will kill me."

"What do you think will kill you?"

"I don't know, but not one of these men. Their beliefs are what keep me safe. To them, I am the Tigress. I am an otherworldly being whom they cannot kill. And so." She shrugged. "I cannot die at their hands."

The truck was destroyed. The tires blown out, the engine riddled with bullets. So we had to walk. We gathered our supplies out of the bed and started again toward the military compound. The Humvee continued to burn, but the flames did not reach as high.

"Won't someone come looking for whoever was in there?"

"Yes, maybe they will give us a ride."

As we approached the burning vehicle, I tried to see through the smoke and identify how many bodies were inside. But the interior was shrouded by the thick plumes of smoke.

We gave the burning wreckage a wide berth. Blue sneezed and shook himself.

The moon rose and the clouds parted, lighting our way. My hands were shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush. I gripped one of the rifles we'd taken off the dead men to steady myself.

Zerzan had a machine gun on her back and carried another, same as me. We'd reloaded them and taken the extra rounds that we found. I had briefly looked at the faces of the dead men; they were young, very young. One of them could barely grow a beard. It was horrifying that this is what they'd chosen.

I know some people feel the same about me. That I chose violence as a path to justice undoes any good my actions may cause. Those dead men believed in their cause the same way I believe in mine. The same way Zerzan believes in hers. Such unbending beliefs are wreaking havoc on our world, but I don't know how to reconcile it.

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