Page 53 of Hunting the Truth
“Go on,” Torres said. “See if that man has a pulse, but if he does, I’d recommend shooting him again and finishing him off.”
Maya hesitated. This could still be a trap. He’d made the arrest too easy. He knew she was on her own because if anyone was with her, they would have stepped out to help her long ago.
“I promise I’ll be good and stay here. Plus, your dog is itching to bite me, and I don’t feel like having a Malinois hanging off my arm today. Been there, done that, don’t want to do it again.”
Maya didn’t answer. Maybe if she stayed quiet Torres would keep talking. He was arrogant and manipulative.
“Guard, Juniper,” she finally said.
She slowly backed away, keeping an eye on Torres and making sure he didn’t try anything with her. Juniper licked her chops and her golden eyes stayed locked onto her suspect. Maya unholstered her gun and stepped down the incline toward the other suspect. Because of where he fell and the height of the grass, she couldn’t see him.
“Forest Service Law Enforcement. Show me your hands,” she said, trying to sound tough, but feeling like she was wavering. This whole situation had gone down in a weird way. “I said show me your hands.”
There was no answer.
Maya crept forward, inching step by step. She kept her gun in a ready position in case the man popped up and fired at her.
“He’s dead,” Torres shouted at her. “You don’t have to announce yourself to a dead person.”
Maya ignored him. She had to keep her temper under control. He would have the upper hand if she got mad and he knew that. He’d probably keep doing what he could to goad her.
She stopped and cleared the area around her, making sure no one else had come with Harold, and then continued inching her way forward.
She heard a gasping and gurgling noise coming from straight ahead of her. She’d heard that noise before when she was in Afghanistan. Noises like that stayed with you and intruded on your sleep at night, causing nightmares. It was the sound of someone who’d been shot and was choking on their own blood.
Maya rushed toward the noise. Like Blake, Harold had short salt-and-pepper hair and a tanned face with lots of wrinkles. He’d obviously spent a lot of time outside. He was on the ground gasping for air; his gun had fallen out of his hand and off to the side. Seeing Maya, he struggled to reach his gun. She didn’t know if he was worried about her killing him since she really wasn’t in uniform or if he intended to hurt her, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She kicked the gun out of the way and holstered her weapon.
She had bent down to start first aid, when the man reached up and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her toward him. Adrenaline surged through her body, and with a mix of surprise, anger and fear, Maya took her elbow and slammed him in the face until he let go. If she had another pair of handcuffs, she would have put them on to keep her safe.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The man just shook his head and then took one more shallow breath, then went still. Maya, still not sure if she was safe, started CPR, but she saw as she did compressions that blood was coming out the bullet holes. She felt for a pulse, but there was none.
She stood back up and stepped back. There was nothing more she could do for him.
Dizziness swept over her. It didn’t matter how many times you saw death or if the man was trying to kill her. It took a piece of you each time. She closed her eyes for a moment and could feel sand blowing against her face.
They’d been out on a patrol and Zinger had found several IEDs. She had been sitting with him in the shade by a Humvee. Her buddy Zach had come over and petted Zinger and given them some more water.
Zinger lapped some of her water, grateful for it. Zach was getting ready to say something when the first bullet hit him. It had come off a mountainside. Sniper.
Maya and Zinger moved fast, getting around to the other side of the vehicle and hopefully out of the sniper’s view. Zach was still lying there. She put Zinger on a down-stay and crawling low, she managed to get back over near Zach. She grabbed him by the vest and pulled him in her direction. More shots came, pinging around them, but somehow Maya managed to not get hit.
She had radioed for help when she had heard the same wheezing and gasping noise. Zach hadn’t lived for long either.
Maya opened her eyes, the memory flooding back in so strong and unexpectedly. She held up her hands and saw blood. Where the hell was she?
Stepping back, she could hear a voice in the distance. Maya pulled out her gun, sprinted back up the small hill and pointed her Glock at the sound of the person talking.
“Whoa. Easy there. I’m cuffed already. You don’t have to shoot me. Is he dead? I hope so.”
Maya started shaking. She had to control herself. She couldn’t lose it like this every time she saw a dead body. Not in her line of work.
She fought to control her breathing and remind herself that she was in Colorado. She wasn’t at war. At least not like the one in Afghanistan. That war had no rules. Here at home at least there were some rules, although suspects didn’t like to follow policy and procedure. Maya’s breathing calmed down and she stared down at the man one more time, then turned and walked back toward Eric.
Maybe out here with no one else around, she didn’t have rules either.
Chapter Twenty-Six
