Torched: A Thriller by Daniel Powell Read Free Book Online

the
suggestion away. “Nah. I’m working pro bono until we get you into Cerritos. I
could use some good karma. Come on. I’ll show you the way.”
    They hiked
through the remainder of the afternoon, pausing for a quick dinner of protein
bars and spring water. They passed but one tiny village on the trail—maybe two
dozen buildings circling a well and a church with chipped, fading walls. Other
than a few pygmy deer and the usual assortment of birds and reptiles, they
didn’t stumble across much wildlife to speak of.
    The sun was far
out over the western skyline when Terri heard the first automobile. “Is
that...?”
    Chaco nodded.
“Come on, Ms. James. Won’t take long to find a ride.”
    “I told you,
Chaco. Please—call me Terri.”
    “Okay, Terri.
Come on.”
    They passed
through a few more clearings. These had been cleared to make way for cellular
telephone towers. Then, after a full day of tramping through wilderness, she
spotted the road.
    Cars and trucks
zipped east and west over the dark asphalt. Chaco told her to stand far off to
the side. He went to the shoulder and waved his arms.
    The fourth truck
slowed and pulled over.
    “See? I told
you,” he said. “Grab your things. C’mon.”
    Chaco spoke in
muted Spanish with the driver. When he was finished, he climbed into the bed of
the truck and helped Terri up.
    “Salt of the
earth, the Mexican people. You don’t ever really need to worry much about a
ride down here.”
    Terri flashed a
nervous grin. “It’s such a relief, having you with me. I was…I’ll admit I was
worried about making my way on the roads. Thank you, Chaco.”
    He reached over
and gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t thank me yet, Terri. The hardest parts for
you are still ahead, if I’m not mistaken.”

ELEVEN
    Miguel brought
dinner home with him. They ate out on the little porch—beans and rice stuffed
into homemade tortillas and tall glasses of mint-tinged iced tea.
    Night had fallen by the
time they were finished.
    “I’ve got something to
show you,” Vivian said.
    “Yeah? Don’t keep it to
yourself, then.”
    “Be right back.” She ran
inside and collected the documents. Before heading back outside, she stopped to
study her reflection in the mirror hanging in the foyer. The circles beneath
her eyes were disappearing. The edges of her mouth turned upward, naturally.
    She felt different. She
felt… renewed .
    She handed Miguel the
envelope. “Alma does excellent work. She asked me to thank you, by the way.”
    Miguel grinned as he
studied the documents. “Carmen, Carmen ,” he said, testing it out. “I
love it! These are great. You, uh…you feel any better now?”
    Vivian shrugged. It was
difficult to consider herself in a new light, but she was warming to the idea
by the hour. She’d paused at least a half dozen times since Alma had given her the
identification cards to study them.
    She’d even begun to
tinker with a personal history—a background that might accompany her new
identity. It was liberating, thinking about all of the possibilities.
    “I guess so. It’s just
surreal, how quickly things have changed for me.”
     Miguel nodded. “Oh, I
know. I remember the feeling well, Vi— Carmen .”
    “It’s okay, Mike. Call
me Vivian. Please, at least just for a little while longer.” She sighed, unsure
of how to move forward. “Would you,” she swallowed, “…are you interested in
hearing more about Vivian?”
    “I’d like nothing more.
Can I get you a glass of wine? I’m having one.
    “That would be great.
Thanks.”
    Miguel ducked inside and
poured two glasses of Chilean red. He brought the bottle back with him and they
clinked glasses. Vivian took half of hers down in a swallow. She breathed
deeply, gathered herself and tumbled into the narrative she’d been avoiding for
years.
    “Vivian and Ryan met at
the University of Central Florida. Ryan Bowles was an engineering student, and
he fit the stereotype that sort of goes with that. He was