Tyrants: A King & Slater Thriller (The King & Slater Series Book 10) by Matt Rogers

Author:Matt Rogers [Rogers, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-01T16:00:00+00:00

46

Violet twilight settled over Durango like a hot blanket.

The mountain city simmered as the temperature dropped and the humidity skyrocketed. The cool washed down off the surrounding peaks, into the desert and over the bustling town. Slater watched the streets slowly quieten from the small window of their rented apartment near the airport. He rested the APC9 on his lap. His skin stretched whenever he moved, coated in dried salt from the afternoon’s exertion. Fatigue dragged him down into the chair. The only time he’d maximally exerted himself was when he’d beaten those two guards down, using his gun as a club, but it’s the unfathomable tension that saps your energy more than anything. Sweeping a building where you know hostiles lie, your fast-twitch muscle fibres firing, draining the tank with each jerking movement.

He’d sit here for hours before he was fully replenished.

Carlos, on the other hand, would take a little longer to feel normal again.

Slater looked over his shoulder. The young man sat meekly on one of the dining chairs, shoulders so stooped he may as well have been a hunchback. King was almost finished administering rudimentary medical attention. He’d wiped all the blood off Carlos, given him ice packs for his swollen face, wrapped heavy bandages around his core in a makeshift brace for his ribs. It was superficial help for grievous injuries, but if Carlos went to a hospital the De Leon syndicate would have their hands on him within hours.

Carlos took two pain pills from the bottle he’d sent King out to get from a dodgy walk-up two streets over. The young man seemingly knew every dealer in Durango, where to get what he needed with the least amount of attention. He settled back in the chair and waited for the opioids to kick in.

King watched him. ‘I thought you’d just use your own product for that.’

Carlos shook his head. It seemed his eyes were closed, but it was hard to tell through the swelling. ‘I’ve never done heroin in my life. Even this—’ he shook the bottle ‘—is rare. It’s one of the rules we all know. Never take the shortcut. Never be weak. That’s what our customers do. We see where it gets them. It’s not somewhere we ever want to be.’

‘Your English is good,’ Slater noted. ‘Really good.’

Carlos glanced over. ‘My mother taught English.’

‘Here in Durango?’

Carlos shook his head. ‘I am from a poor village of campesinos, way out in the mountains near Xalisco. Rural. You won’t know it. There’s a thousand just like it. She rode twenty miles to the nearest school and back every day to teach.’

‘How’d you end up here?’

Carlos stared pointedly at Slater through the slits in his puffy eyelids. The young man didn’t answer.

Slater stared back. ‘What?’

‘I do not want the condescending lecture from foreigners who think they know better. Who think they know how life works here.’

King let out a bitter laugh. ‘Carlos, if you knew who we were…’

He trailed off.

Slater said, ‘We’re the last to judge.’

The tension slackened out of Carlos’ shoulders.

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