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another bullet to the back of her skull.

    She quickly ripped both restraints from her wrists like paper throwing them as far away as possible while crouching down in the freezing cold water of the river trying to get it together. It was terrifying; she literally felt everything all over again only she was not actually dying. She gripped a nearby stone that was about four times her size, not realizing her hands were imprinting into the wet stone. She began to count backwards to herself from twenty taking a deep breath while focusing on the stone; slowly the visions disappeared and she could see straight again.

    “It’s not real…it’s not real…you’re alive…you are alive,” she reaffirmed to herself. She submerged herself into the river to shock her system with the ice-cold water.

    She could still feel cold and wetness, which meant her nerves were intact; not the teeth chattering hypothermia type cold one would feel after being dunked into a surging river. Not that it would matter since the heat from the Texas sun would dry her off once she started to move again. She rose back to a standing position with her senses more clear and focused looking around in bewilderment pondering the most obvious question since coming to a stop at the riverbank.

    “Where the hell am I?” she asked aloud to herself.

CHAPTER FOUR

    Gatesville Women’s Unit of the prison designated for regular prisoners and lifers as opposed to Mountain View, which was strictly for death row inmates. Agents Armitage and Mercer sat in the interrogation room going through the files and pictures they had on Sophia attempting to piece things together when the door opened. Sister Shareef walked through in shackles flanked by two correctional officers; she had a slight permanent limp to her walk in her right leg due to a prison altercation some years ago. Armitage looked up while Mercer continued to go through the files.

    “Shackles aren’t necessary boys you can take them off,” Mark requested to the officers.

    As they removed the restraints from Sister Shareef’s wrists, ankles, and waist, she proceeded to stand taller and more distinguished. Armitage motioned for her to take a seat, which she does as the correctional officers took their leave waiting outside.

    Mark picked up her file, “Agnes Shareef Wilcox also known as “Sister Shareef”…head of the Sisters of Islam; convicted of murder and sentenced to forty years to life in prison with eligibility for parole after twenty. My name is Special Agent Mark Armitage, and this is my partner Special Agent Dustin Mercer.”

    “How can I help you Special Agent?” Sister Shareef got down to the point.

    Mark took out a photo of Sophia sliding it in front of her, “Do you know this woman?”

    She glanced at the picture and responded, “Her name is Sophia Dennison…she was murdered a couple of hours ago…”

    Dustin scoffed.

    Sister Shareef narrowed her eyes at Mercer, who shot her back a dirty look.

    Mark spun the laptop on the table to face her, fumbling a bit to bring up the video function. “We’d like you to watch something,” he said. “The footage you’re about to see is a bit disturbing, but we ask that you please watch.”

    As the video played, Sister Shareef’s chiseled expression quickly softened at the footage of her now deceased good friend lying lifeless on the execution table. As she swatted away the tears forming in her eyes, twenty years was scared out of her as she witnessed the lifeless corpse of her friend rise back to life gasping for air.

    “Jesus…” uttered a now shaken Sister Shareef.

    Dustin gave her a sarcastic perplexed look, “Thought you prayed to Muhammad?”

    She ignored Mercer’s snide remark as she watched her friend rip through her restraints, and overpower five correctional officers hurling one through two inches of solid glass. She then cringed letting out a yelp as she watched her friend savagely gunned down before