GENRE: YA multicultural
I’d hiked more than two miles over rocky mountain terrain when I heard a stone tumble behind me. I glanced back. The Sheriff was about a hundred yards below me. He’d tracked me, silent as a whisper.
When he visited our ninth grade class last month to talk about Afghanistan, the Sheriff told us he tracked a Taliban unit through the mountains for three days. They led him to their hideout. My best friend Pablo asked if he killed them. He shook his head and said he called in air support. When he and his team went through the rubble afterward, they counted the bodies. There were so many pieces they couldn’t be sure how many were killed, but in his report, he wrote thirty to forty dead Taliban.
I was pretty sure he couldn’t call in air support to get me, not here in the Sangre de Cristo mountains in northern New Mexico. But I wasn’t taking anything for granted.
“Stay there, Goop,” he said, pointing his pistol in my direction.
The gun didn’t scare me. There’s no way he’d shoot. “Where’s my dad?” I asked.
“In custody. Turn yourself in. I promise nothing will go on your record.”
My dad was supposed to be the lookout. They must have jumped him quick because he didn’t radio me. Either that, or he fell asleep.
“What about Oscar?”
“We don’t put dogs in jail. You can take him home. Deal?”
I turned and kept climbing.
He spoke into his radio. "Suspect declines to surrender."