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Back This Side of Night Save as PDF
Chapters (110)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. I
  7. II
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. PART TWO
  22. THIRTEEN
  23. FOURTEEN
  24. FIFTEEN
  25. SIXTEEN
  26. SEVENTEEN
  27. EIGHTEEN
  28. NINETEEN
  29. TWENTY
  30. TWENTY-ONE
  31. TWENTY-TWO
  32. TWENTY-THREE
  33. TWENTY-FOUR
  34. TWENTY-FIVE
  35. TWENTY-SIX
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. PART THREE
  50. FORTY
  51. FORTY-ONE
  52. FORTY-TWO
  53. FORTY-THREE
  54. FORTY-FOUR
  55. FORTY-FIVE
  56. FORTY-SIX
  57. FORTY-SEVEN
  58. FORTY-EIGHT
  59. FORTY-NINE
  60. FIFTY
  61. FIFTY-ONE
  62. FIFTY-TWO
  63. FIFTY-THREE
  64. FIFTY-FOUR
  65. FIFTY-FIVE
  66. FIFTY-SIX
  67. FIFTY-SEVEN
  68. FIFTY-EIGHT
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. SIXTY-ONE
  72. PART FOUR
  73. SIXTY-TWO
  74. SIXTY-THREE
  75. SIXTY-FOUR
  76. SIXTY-FIVE
  77. SIXTY-SIX
  78. SIXTY-SEVEN
  79. SIXTY-EIGHT
  80. SIXTY-NINE
  81. SEVENTY
  82. SEVENTY-ONE
  83. SEVENTY-TWO
  84. SEVENTY-THREE
  85. SEVENTY-FOUR
  86. SEVENTY-FIVE
  87. SEVENTY-SIX
  88. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  89. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  90. SEVENTY-NINE
  91. EIGHTY
  92. EIGHTY-ONE
  93. EIGHTY-TWO
  94. EIGHTY-THREE
  95. EIGHTY-FOUR
  96. EPILOGUE
  97. I
  98. II
  99. III
  100. IV
  101. V
  102. VI
  103. VII
  104. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  105. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  106. Excerpt from LOST RIVER
  107. LITTLE PARIS
  108. DILLON
  109. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  110. What’s next onyour reading list?

Policía or narco, it made no difference.

Plata o plomo.

Chayo moved against her, in front of her. He was swaying, unsteady, but he put himself between the hombre and his pistola and her. De nuevo. Chayo didn’t say anything . . . his lips were pale and trembling and flecked with blood . . . and the hombre laughed at him.

“Fuck me, I’ll give you an A for effort, kid. But neither of us are in shape to fight it out. And trust me, I only need fucking one of you. I bet that . . .”

Neva spoke for them both.

“No,” she said, barely a whisper. It was the first word she’d said in days. It hurt, moving her mouth, and her voice sounded strange, like it was coming from someone else. She didn’t recognize herself.

“No,” she said again. Louder, clearer, so loud it was almost a yell, and it rolled across the desert and back to her.

“No,” she said, a third time. Soft, final.

And then she shot him with the pistola she’d taken off the hombre with the baseball hat.

There was always another pistola.

She shot him again and again and again until she was done crying, and Chayo took the empty pistola out of her hands and dropped it on the ground.

—

TOGETHER THEY TOOK THE KEYS of the hombre muerto and the dinero he had on him.

They rolled his cooling body beneath some ocotillo and left it there.

And after she got Chayo settled across the backseat of the coche—jumping at the sound of its big engine—she took the wheel and drove them away from the lights and the helicóptero and into the night.

EPILOGUE

DÍA

I

After it was over, they all had to do a hell of a lot of lying for each other.