"Sorry to break up the love-in," Switchblade Sally cut in. "But I got a whole slew of jackpots coming up on the left and I don't feel like getting a bear bite. Let's put this baby to bed."
Lucy grabbed the CB from Xochitl. "That's a big ten-four, Switchblade."
Xochi smirked.
A huge double-decker eighteen-wheeler loaded with cars on both levels sidled up to El Gallo's driver side. A woman in her fifties sat behind the wheel. She had a pale scarf headband tied around her dark bobbed hair, and the collar of her polo shirt pulled up to her ears. If it hadn't been for the silver blade she repeatedly flicked as she drove, Sally would have appeared more like a soccer mom than a trucker. She smiled and touched the switchblade to her temple in salute to Xochitl and Lucy just as four highway patrol cars zoomed past, lights flashing and sirens shrieking.
"Baby's tucked in tight for the night," Switchblade's voice came over the walkie.
Xochi and Lucy watched the cop cars speed down the freeway and across the Vincent Thomas Bridge. Xochitl and Lucy let out a collective sigh of relief.
"That's a big ten-four," Tex replied. "I owe you a brown bottle, Sally."
"Make it a case," Sally cooed. "And you got a date."
"Look alive. Look alive," Windy City broke in. "We're approaching the four-seven."
"Copy," Xochitl responded and straightened up in her seat, scratching her shoulder with her chin. Her fifth wind was on the downslide, and she wanted to be done with this job — even if it was for Bob's kid.
"We should take the Harbor exit," Lucy said. "We can drive under the bridge and park there."
"You've been here before?" Xochitl glanced at her partner.
"Long time ago," Lucy muttered. A faraway look passed over her face. "Gabe and I tracked a dogfighting ring out of Long Beach. They would pay off harbor security and use the underpass of the bridge to hold the fights."
"I knew you had a hard-on for saving pinche perros." Xochitl gave Lucy a little shove. "But wasn't that way out of your jurisdiction?"
"Yeah." Lucy laughed. "We used to do a lot of stupid things."
"So, nothing's changed then?" Xochitl smirked.
"Well, you know, it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks." Lucy nudged Xochitl back. "See...see what I did there?"
"You need to work on your material." Xochitl rolled her eyes and grabbed the CB. "Tex?" Xochitl let off the PTT button.
"Is this where we say 'Adios,' little loba?" Tex's drawl sounded melancholy.
"Yeah." Xochitl's throat tightened, and she choked back a tear.
So many goodbyes. Should be used to it by now.
But people like Bob, Lefty and now Tex were reminders of how precious family was to her, and that everything she was going through would somehow be worth it in the end.
"Tell him thank you," Lucy whispered.
"Little Red Riding Hood says 'muchas gracias.'" Xochitl radioed back, smiling smugly. "That goes for you too, Windy City, Sally."
"Always enjoy pullin' the wool over Smokey's eyes." Sally chuckled.
"My pleasure." Windy City's melodious voice flowed out of the radio. "Tex, I'll catch you on the flip flop."
"Tex." Xochitl clicked off the push-to-talk button, not knowing what to say to the person who had saved her, Lucy's and probably Travis' life. "Vaya con Dios."
"Y tú también," Tex twanged, making Xochitl giggle. "I'm northbound and down."
"Your dad was right about truckers being the best kind of people." Lucy gave Xochitl's shoulder a squeeze as they watched Tex's rig pass them.
El Gallo veered off the 47 Freeway onto the Harbor Boulevard exit. They drove the half-mile down Swimford Street toward the old Catalina Express port in silence, each woman lost in her own thoughts and exhaustion. This had been one of their more eventful trips. As Xochitl took in the surroundings, it occurred to her that she'd never been to San Pedro before. She had always wanted to go to Catalina Island, having heard it was a beautiful place where golf carts were the only means of transportation. The idea one could only drive a little car around was fascinating to her, and she thought of how much fun it would have been to go sea fishing with her papa and Miguel.
Papa would have loved that.
But the thriving tourist port to the magical island of golf carts and fancy fishing was no more.
After the initial Wereflu outbreak, there had been a mass exodus from the main island through the Avalon Harbor. Since then, the channel to Catalina had been shut down, essentially cutting off all the islands from the rest of the state. Now, patrol boats kept a vigilant watch on the ports along the Southern California coast. As with most deserted towns when the industry dries up, Catalina had turned into a run-down, decayed ghostly version of itself.
Such was the fate of the Catalina Express port.
"Turn left there." Lucy pointed ahead to a dark area under the Vincent Thomas Bridge. "It'll be a good place to stash the car."
Xochitl wrinkled her nose. The idea of leaving El Gallo in such an unlit, seedy area unnerved her. Nevertheless, she knew it was better than having someone spot them carting a tranquilized Werebeast to a clandestine meeting with a venal boat captain.
She drove across the expansive asphalt roadway that had once served as a parking lot to the ferry terminal. Several gaping cracks and a myriad of potholes provided a challenging obstacle course. Xochitl maneuvered the rig cautiously so as not to get stuck. She parked the car under the bridge and sighed victoriously.
"Made it!" Xochitl turned off the engine and looked at Lucy.
"Not yet." Lucy opened the car door and stuck out one leg. "Now comes the fun part." She exited the vehicle.
"Crap." Xochi grabbed the keys and slid out from behind the wheel. Pausing to catch her sixth wind, she shut the door with her hip and walked to Lucy, already standing next to El Gallo's trunk.
"So..." Xochitl stared at Lucy, waiting to hear her plan for getting Travis out of the trailer and to the boat.
"So." Lucy put her hands on her hips. "First, let's see if Travis is still asleep."
Xochitl unlocked the trunk, and Lucy grabbed Rollins' modified tranq gun. Tired and achy, they plodded to the rear of the trailer. As before, Xochi unlocked the latch while Lucy, gun readied, waited to see if Were Travis was sleeping like a little Were puppy or ready to pounce and rip their throats out.
Xochitl mouthed "three" and threw open the door. Nothing happened. She chanced a look inside. Under the tunnel, without any lighting, the inside of the trailer was a black void.
"I need more than my phone light to see," Xochitl whispered over her shoulder.
"Will this help?" a graveled male smoker's voice uttered.
"Holy shit!" Lucy swung around and pointed her gun at the man.
"Whoa!" The withered old man, dressed in a security guard uniform, raised his hands and a large flashlight in the air.
"Who are you?" Xochitl postured up by Lucy.
"Name's Mac." The security guard shifted his weight from side to side. "I work for Captain Azov. You're The Werewolf Whisperer, right? I'm here to help you with...you know," Mac said apprehensively and nodded up to the horse trailer.
Lucy lowered the tranq gun and held her hand out for the flashlight in Mac's grip. Which he gave to her. Without taking her eyes off him, Lucy handed the light to Xochitl.
"Ready?" Xochitl moved back to the opened trailer door.
Lucy turned and nodded but kept Mac in her line of sight. "You might want to stand back a bit," she said to Mac, hoisted the modified tranq gun to her shoulder and aimed.
Xochitl took a deep breath, switched on the light and shone it into the darkened trailer. She panned around the right side of the rig where they'd last seen Travis curdled up, and where he was still sound asleep. He'd rolled onto his belly and was sprawled out on the trailer floor, looking almost comfortable with his head resting on its side. He breathed heavily from his snout.
"Never heard a Were snore before," Xochitl whispered. "Looks like we're good to go. But we st
ill don't have anything to put him on.
"I got a flatbed hand truck you could use," Mac said.
"And you didn't bring it with you, why?" Xochitl shut off the flashlight and stared at the security guard.
"Umm..." Mac hesitated answering. Xochitl eyed the man warily.
Something's off.
"Well, go get it," Lucy told Mac as if she were speaking to a dopey golden retriever. "Go on."
"No problem." Mac smiled weakly and left.
"There's something off about that guy." Xochitl watched Mac trudge toward the dock. "He seemed jumpy." Lucy looked equally wary.
"Well, I did have a gun pointed at him." Lucy flicked her hand dismissively and faced the truck.
"Yeah. Still." Xochitl grabbed the loading ramp tucked in a slot between the trailer doors and the rear bumper. She yanked on the grips and pulled, but the ramp wouldn't budge. She yanked again. Nothing.
"¡Chingadera!" Xochitl yanked a third time, but it was a no go. "Pinche ramp," she muttered, slamming her hand on her thigh.
"Settle down. Let's try together." Lucy took one end from Xochitl, and they pulled with all their might. But the ramp wouldn't move.
"¡Ay carajo!" Xochitl threw her hands up in the air as Lucy bent down and checked under the trailer.
"Looks like Travis' tantrum smashed part of the undercarriage along with the axle." Lucy rose, slapping the dust off her sweats.
"So, no ramp then." Xochitl sighed.
"Nope."
"Guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way." Xochitl hopped up onto the end of the rig then grabbed Lucy's hand to help her up.
They approached Travis cautiously.
"You take one arm. I'll take the other," Lucy said as she moved to Travis.
Xochitl squatted down and hoisted Travis' arm, placing it around her neck. She glanced over to Lucy who winced at the weight Travis added to her injured leg.
"You okay?"
Lucy bit down on her lip but nodded "yes."
"On three. One...Two...Three." They heaved Travis up by the armpits. "Oh...my...God..." Xochitl groaned before dropping her side of the teen Were.
Lucy let go of her side and bent over, panting. "That...was...a bust...Grab...his..." She pointed to Travis' legs.
Xochitl nodded and moved to the rear of the Werebeast. As if she were a powerlifter, she squatted down, grabbed Travis' legs and waited for Lucy to grip his arms.
"Ready?" Lucy asked. Xochitl nodded. "Go."
Again they heaved Travis' body up with all their might. They managed to move him two feet before Lucy lost her hold on him and dropped his head onto the steel floor with a thump. They gritted their teeth, waiting to see if Travis would wake, but to their relief his tongue lapped at his lips and he exhaled a deep yawn.
"This calls for the carpet method," Xochitl said.
Lucy's eyebrows squished together.
"You know, roll 'em."
"Oh, good idea," Lucy agreed.
Xochitl shifted to Were Travis' side and sat on the floor, her legs bent for leverage. She grabbed his other side and, as if she were exercising on a rowing machine, pulled Travis' bottom half toward her so that his body was parallel to the trailer opening. Exhausted, Xochitl fell on her back.
"Good job," Lucy said.
Xochitl pushed herself up to her feet.
They rolled Travis to the edge of the truck. Like a dead fish, he flipped and flopped side over side. To Xochi's surprise and relief, he never woke up.
"Now, what?" Lucy asked, glancing over the edge of the trailer.
"We roll him off."
"It's about a two-foot drop." Lucy looked concerned.
Xochitl shrugged.
"Okaaay." Lucy shook her head and knelt next to Xochitl. They rolled Travis over the edge.
He landed on the pavement with a thud.
"Easy peasy." Xochitl hopped off the side of the rig as Lucy slid gingerly off its end. "So what're we gonna do with this heap of crap?"
"I could take it off your hands," Mac said, rolling a hand truck toward them.
"¡Híjole!" Xochi jumped. "For someone so creaky, you certainly are stealthy."
"Xoch." Lucy scowled. "Sorry, Mac. It's been a long night."
"Like I said." Mac eyed the trailer. "I'll take it."
"It's in really bad shape," Lucy said. "It's got a broken rear axle and the ramp is jammed."
"Not a problem." Mac sized up the trailer.
Xochitl approached the guard who kept the dolly between them.
"Xoch?" Lucy asked.
Xochitl wheeled the hand truck away from Mac to where Travis lay. "I don't want it." She lined the flatbed dolly up with the Were. "Bob won't care."
"Guess it's yours then." Lucy turned to Mac.
Mac raised a hand up in thanks.
Xochitl shrugged off the gesture, more preoccupied with Travis and the walk to the dock than with the beat up horse trailer. She couldn't care less what some security guard wanted.
Probably scrap it for parts.
A truck like this could bring a good price, and on a less eventful night, she might have called a few people she knew to chop it for her.
"Thought we'd just flop him on the bed and roll him," Xochitl said to Lucy.
"Sounds like a plan." Lucy gripped the flatbed's handle. "I'll tilt it on its side and you flip him on top.
"Hey, Mac," Xochitl called to the guard standing off to the side. "You wanna lend a hand?"
"Sorry." Mac touched his lower back.
"Of course." Xochitl rolled her eyes. She hooked her arms under Travis' head and shoulders as Lucy tilted the dolly on a slant. Xochitl managed to flip Travis' torso belly-side up onto the flatbed, his too-long legs dangling over its edge.
"Great." Lucy smiled. "Let's get this done."
"Captain's waiting," Mac added.
Duh!
Xochitl glared at the old man.
Lucy was about to push the dolly, when Xochitl remembered the duffel of money. She leaned over to Lucy and whispered, "Where's the dinero?"
"Still in the backseat, I guess," Lucy stated, matter-of-fact.
"Still?" Xochitl asked, shocked they'd left a bag loaded with cash in an unlocked car.
"You're in charge of the money." Lucy raised her hand, acquitting herself of any blame and nodded to Travis. "I'm in charge of this."
"Fine." Xochitl turned and stomped off toward El Gallo. She opened the door and looked into the back seat but didn't see the black duffel bag of money. Panic gripped her. She scrambled into the back of the car for a better look.
"Oh, thank you God." Xochitl sighed, spotting the duffel jammed on the floor between the front and back seat. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she shimmied backward out of the car. She nervously scanned the underpass before unzipping the bag.
Relief washed over her. The stacks of one hundred dollar bills were exactly where Bob had left them. "That's a lot of dough," she mumbled.
Just as she began to zip up the bag, Xochi noticed something white peeking out from under the bundles of money. She dug through the wads of cash and retrieved a thick envelope with a note written on the front.
Kiddo — I knew you would never accept payment for saving my boy. But I feel I need to give you this for helping me. Save it for a rainy day and watch your six.
Love,
B.T.
Xochitl opened the unsealed envelope and stared at the money inside. She thumbed through the bills — all Benjamins — estimating the amount to be somewhere in the ballpark of twenty-five grand. "Híjole, Bob." Her eyes welled up with tears. She blinked them away.
"What's that?" Lucy's asked.
"Shit!" Xochitl jumped, dropping the envelope. "Stop doing that."
"So?" Lucy seemed unconcerned that she'd scared the hell out of her friend.
"Oh." Xochitl snatched the envelope and slung the duffel across her body. "Your new pants." Unlocking the trunk, she crammed the envelope inside the pocket of Lefty's tan military jacket.
&nb
sp; Hope Lefty and Miguel's Werefighting is going better than our Were smuggling.
She clutched the jacket, and her thoughts drifted momentarily to her brother. She wondered if she'd be back here someday sending him off to the Island of Misfit Weres.
Or will I have to put him down?
Xochi shuddered.
"We'd better get a move on." Lucy nudged Xochitl back to their present task. "Boat's leaving in ten."
"Shit." Xochitl tossed the jacket in the trunk and locked it before she and Lucy walked to Mac and an unconscious Were Travis.
Together, they grabbed the handle of the hand truck and began to pull Travis. At first the dolly moved smoothly, and Xochitl thought they'd finally caught a break. But of course, as the night had proven time and time again, this was not an easy job.
The dolly jammed on Travis' lanky legs, almost tipping both hand truck and Werebeast on their sides.
"Crap." Xochitl groaned, keeping her emotions in check and quelling the urge to jump up and scream to the heavens "Why me, God?"
"Take his legs," Lucy said, sounding just as irritated as Xochitl felt.
"I always get the ass end of things," she mumbled and hoisted him off the ground. "Good to go."
Grunting in pain with each step, Lucy pulled the dolly as Xochi held onto Travis' legs. Mac seemed to have taken pity on Lucy and grabbed onto the handle to help her pull.
Guess your 'ol back's not so bad after all.
As they approached the dock terminal, Xochitl's danger meter spiked. Gang tags and graffiti marred the once pristine whitewashed walls of the building. Cut up cardboard boxes, the remnants left by vagrants, were stashed in what remained of the doorway to the terminal, and garbage was strewn about the grounds. The prevalent smell of urine wafted on the ocean breeze.
They pulled the dolly around the side of the building and walked through a rusted gate to the port side of the harbor.
To the left of the old Catalina Express Terminal, a long pier jutted out from the main port. A forty-foot fishing schooner with what appeared to be a crane at its stern moored alongside the wharf. The engines were running.
Lucy shot Xochitl a worried look, and they double-timed it across the dock's cracked cement. They snagged on a pothole as they took a sharp turn onto the salt-weathered wooden pier. The hand truck tipped over and toppled onto Travis, knocking Xochitl to her knees while Lucy stumbled into Mac who caught her before she fell.
The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) Page 18