Page 93
Story: Rescued Duty
Yeah, she was going after him. She wasn’t about to lose him for good.
Naya crouched and shimmied her way to the side of the building. She scanned the expanse in front of her, studying the trees for any movement.
Sirens rang through the air, now coupled with the revving of the motorcycle.
The threat didn’t appear to be near her anymore, so Naya darted from her covering to the bridge. She ducked by the base of the crossing along some boulders so that her knees almost touched the muddy dirt by the water’s edge.
Her breath came in pants, and she strained to listen. No other footsteps followed. She stood up and tore across the bridge and up the incline toward the parking lot. She wove in and out of the trees, following a zigzag pattern, and stayed off the main trail.
Another gunshot boomed, and Naya froze.
“Police. Drop the weapon.” Shouts ensued.
Naya peered around the tree trunk and spotted Zack fifty yards away, near the parking lot, hands held high in the air.
She made her way up to the main entrance in the lot, mindful to keep her hands in front of her. Basuto stood next to Wilcox, who had a tight rein on someone she was handcuffing.
A motorcycle lay on the ground near the three of them, and when Wilcox turned around with the suspect, Naya gasped.
“Sylvia.” Naya balled her hands into fists by her sides. “You could’ve killed us!”
Wilcox began reading the woman her rights.
Sylvia glared at Naya and Zack. “Don’t think for a minute I’m going to talk.”
“Let’s go.” Wilcox escorted her to the back of the patrol car.
“Are you okay?” Naya hurried over to Zack’s side and wrapped him in a hug.
“If you’re safe, that’s all that matters,” he whispered into her ear.
She pulled back and examined his face for any sign of injuries.
“I’m fine. Really. You’re shaking.” Zack rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Do you need a blanket?”
Naya shook her head. Her teeth chattered, but she clamped down on her lips. How was this man so selfless? Even in the face of danger, he continued to look out for her needs first. The gesture made her want to reciprocate.
Basuto walked over to them. “Do either of you need medical assistance?”
“We’re good.” Naya didn’t want a big fuss right now. Not when she wanted to find out what was in that truck.
“You guys came in the nick of time,” Zack said.
“All right.” Basuto radioed in to cancel the ambo. “I’m going to need to take your statements.”
Zack relayed the information, then Naya filled in her parts of the story. “There’s also an overturned truck down there by the pile of sandbags.”
The three of them headed back down the path while Wilcox stayed with Sylvia.
They crossed the bridge and came to the truck’s tailgate. “My hunch says the back is loaded with sandbags,” Naya said. “There is also a stack by that shed.”
“We think the bags are where they’re hiding the chemicals that are causing the runoff in the water,” Zack said.
The lock was already open, so Basuto pushed up on the rolling door. Sure enough, mounds of burlap bags were piled into the bed of the truck. Basuto’s radio squawked.
The police lieutenant grabbed his radio and replied, “Bring the forensics crew down to the river base.”
Basuto walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. A body lay slumped in the seat. Gray peppered the brown locks, and fine lines etched the forehead.
Naya crouched and shimmied her way to the side of the building. She scanned the expanse in front of her, studying the trees for any movement.
Sirens rang through the air, now coupled with the revving of the motorcycle.
The threat didn’t appear to be near her anymore, so Naya darted from her covering to the bridge. She ducked by the base of the crossing along some boulders so that her knees almost touched the muddy dirt by the water’s edge.
Her breath came in pants, and she strained to listen. No other footsteps followed. She stood up and tore across the bridge and up the incline toward the parking lot. She wove in and out of the trees, following a zigzag pattern, and stayed off the main trail.
Another gunshot boomed, and Naya froze.
“Police. Drop the weapon.” Shouts ensued.
Naya peered around the tree trunk and spotted Zack fifty yards away, near the parking lot, hands held high in the air.
She made her way up to the main entrance in the lot, mindful to keep her hands in front of her. Basuto stood next to Wilcox, who had a tight rein on someone she was handcuffing.
A motorcycle lay on the ground near the three of them, and when Wilcox turned around with the suspect, Naya gasped.
“Sylvia.” Naya balled her hands into fists by her sides. “You could’ve killed us!”
Wilcox began reading the woman her rights.
Sylvia glared at Naya and Zack. “Don’t think for a minute I’m going to talk.”
“Let’s go.” Wilcox escorted her to the back of the patrol car.
“Are you okay?” Naya hurried over to Zack’s side and wrapped him in a hug.
“If you’re safe, that’s all that matters,” he whispered into her ear.
She pulled back and examined his face for any sign of injuries.
“I’m fine. Really. You’re shaking.” Zack rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Do you need a blanket?”
Naya shook her head. Her teeth chattered, but she clamped down on her lips. How was this man so selfless? Even in the face of danger, he continued to look out for her needs first. The gesture made her want to reciprocate.
Basuto walked over to them. “Do either of you need medical assistance?”
“We’re good.” Naya didn’t want a big fuss right now. Not when she wanted to find out what was in that truck.
“You guys came in the nick of time,” Zack said.
“All right.” Basuto radioed in to cancel the ambo. “I’m going to need to take your statements.”
Zack relayed the information, then Naya filled in her parts of the story. “There’s also an overturned truck down there by the pile of sandbags.”
The three of them headed back down the path while Wilcox stayed with Sylvia.
They crossed the bridge and came to the truck’s tailgate. “My hunch says the back is loaded with sandbags,” Naya said. “There is also a stack by that shed.”
“We think the bags are where they’re hiding the chemicals that are causing the runoff in the water,” Zack said.
The lock was already open, so Basuto pushed up on the rolling door. Sure enough, mounds of burlap bags were piled into the bed of the truck. Basuto’s radio squawked.
The police lieutenant grabbed his radio and replied, “Bring the forensics crew down to the river base.”
Basuto walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. A body lay slumped in the seat. Gray peppered the brown locks, and fine lines etched the forehead.
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