By Alex Rankin
“Maybe we should call the police.”
Steve shuffled down the steep incline, heart pumping while a river churned black below. “I just want to see.”
He reached the gravel bank and looked carefully about. Up ahead, the canal swerved between graffiti covered columns, meeting with a shaft of sunlight that found its way beneath the concrete sky.
It fell just short of a figure that was slumped on the floor.
Josh said something else, but the sound didn’t penetrate. Steve’s mind was racing, in competition with his heartbeat. He took a step in the dirt.