No Way Back. Andrew Gross
Читать онлайн.| Название | No Way Back |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Andrew Gross |
| Жанр | Приключения: прочее |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Приключения: прочее |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780007489589 |
If a body is just a body, who will step forward to ask why someone is killed and who killed them? If a body has no name or no history, then who will demand justice?
—A grieving mother of a victim
of Mexico’s drug wars
The trip had been Sam’s idea.
A five-day R and R down in Mexico over spring break. Only a twenty-hour-drive away. Ned’s dad had brought up all the trouble they were having down there, but then things seemed to have quieted down recently. Anyway, where they were going, Aguazula, was just a sleepy town along the coast with not much more than a beach, a thatched-roof cantina, and maybe a little blow-away weed. Sam’s buddy George lived there, teaching English. He said it was paradise.
Aguazula.
Blue waters.
At the last minute, Ned’s girlfriend, Ana, decided to come along, lured by the promise of some first-rate photo ops for her photography project. The three of them were seniors at the University of Denver. And it would probably be the last real fun they’d have, at least for a long time, since they were all graduating in a couple of months and then it was out into the world. The only things he’d have on his résumé: two years of lacrosse, a 3.2 GPA, and a business degree. If there would even be a job out there by the time he graduated. The last two summers Sam had interned back east at this boutique fixed-income shop. But now even Wall Street wasn’t hiring anymore, and in truth, Sam wasn’t even sure finance was his thing. He really didn’t know what he wanted to do. Other than, right now, a swan dive off a rocky ledge into a grotto of warm, blue water.
Ned was sleeping in the passenger seat of the Acura SUV, having driven most of the night once they hit New Mexico, all the way to the Mexican border. Culiacán was only ten minutes ahead, according to the AAA map they had. Aguazula was still a three-hour-drive away.
Paradise.
In the hazy light, Sam saw a car coming up from behind him. Once dawn had broken, Sunday morning, he had begun to enjoy the drive, drinking in the amazing countryside. He’d never been in rural Mexico before. Flat stone houses hugging the hills; farmers with goats and chickens along the side of the road. Spindly jacaranda trees. He’d been to Cabo once, with the family.