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Pretty Baby

Page 25

by Pretty Baby (NCP) (lit)


  “Go!” Dark-Eyes shouted, pointing toward the door to the cockpit. “You tell Captain we go to Cuba. Tell him to come out with his hands up.” Dark-Eyes indicated to the other hijacker. “Shamir will take plane.”

  “Shamir?” Shadoe asked, looking at the other man, then back again. “Does he know how to fly?”

  A smirk appeared on the man’s face. “You do not worry about that, my friend.”

  “Friend?” Shadoe said with an incredulous chuckle. “You must be watching too much American TV if you think I’m your friend.” Then the smile faded from his face. “Hey, tell you what. I’ll get you a dictionary for your birthday. When you get it, look up lunatic, daft, crazy, and then look in the mirror … friend.”

  The man’s dark eyes flashed and his nostrils flared as he angrily punched him in the gut with the butt of his rifle. “I do not have time for your insults. You do as I say, or you will have this for lunch.” He stuck the nozzle of the ominous-looking submachine gun in Shadoe’s face.

  “Never did like airline food,” Shadoe gasped, recovering from the jab in the stomach. He looked around, wondering if there were only two of them. “Where’s the rest of your party, creep?”

  Dark-Eyes gave him a back-handed slap, causing Shadoe’s anger to begin to boil. “You do not worry about anyone but yourself, understand?” Indicating with a nod toward the cockpit, he yelled, “You go! Now!”

  “All right!” Shadoe shouted, his eyes darting around, trying to think of something … anything … to do. There were only two as far as he knew, and if one was going to fly the plane, that would leave only one. Hell if I can’t overpower one, he thought, I need to turn in my friggin’ badge.

  But he’d have to be careful. With the man’s gun on him, he turned and pushed aside a curtain and saw a short hall that led to a door. On the left side was a telephone with microphone capabilities. Probably used by the stewardesses to make announcements to the passengers. He looked down at the straight handle on the door and closed his hand around it and pushed down. Much to his surprise, it opened. When he walked in, the sight almost took Shadoe’s breath away. The pilot and his co-pilot were sitting looking out a large, wide window, into a clear, beautiful sky. The sky had been overcast when they left, but now the plane sailed above the clouds, making it look as if you could step out and walk on them. Just then he felt a brutal nudge from behind and felt the man circle his neck with his arm and push him in. A painful jab in his left side told him it was the nozzle of a gun that was itching to go off and blast him to kingdom come.

  “If you do not do as I say, he will die!” Dark-Eyes yelled, causing a sudden movement of both men turning in their seats.

  “Oh, my God!” the pilot said. “What the hell...?”

  Feeling sarcastic, Shadoe said, “Captain, may I present hijacker number one. Hijacker number two is outside. He’s going to take over the plane and fly it to Cuba.”

  Just then he heard a raspy voice in his ear, and the prickle of a beard. “No funny business,” he hissed loudly. “This is not Saturday Night Live!”

  Shadoe managed to turn his head slightly, a look of surprise on his face. “So you do watch a little TV.”

  “No more wisecracks,” the man said as he jerked Shadoe’s neck brutally, and Shadoe gagged.

  “Okay, okay,” he gasped. “No more wisecracks.” He looked down at the pilot who was watching the two of them as if on alert. “He means business,” Shadoe gasped out. “He wants his partner to take over the plane and fly it to Cuba.”

  “Oh, God,” the captain muttered. “How many are there?”

  “Only two,” Shadoe said, his expressive eyes catching the captain’s, hoping to convey a message. “The other one is holding a gun on the passengers.” Shadoe saw the captain’s eyes flicker, and a slight nod.

  Shadoe knew, as did the captain, that two little Cuban men were nothing to overpower, but their weapons were large, powerful, and intimidating.

  With a lot of yelling, hitting, and threats, the two men were quickly shuffled out and Shamir took the plane. He sat looking at the instruments, fiddling with buttons, throwing switches, and turning the plane in another direction.

  That night Shadoe watched the man, whose name he didn’t know, fall slowly into an unwelcome sleep. Shadoe kept glancing from the man’s face to his weapon that was being held with limp hands. Shadoe knew the man hadn’t intended to go to sleep, but as the night wore on, and the plane winged its way to Cuba, a silent, comforting hush fell over the plane while everyone nodded off.

  Everyone but Shadoe.

  With Dark-Eyes fast asleep, he fiddled with his ropes until he finally got his hands free. Moving very carefully, he freed the captain, then approached the snoozing hijacker, finally snatching the gun from his limp hands and turning it on him. Unfortunately, just then Shamir opened the cockpit door and hit Shadoe in the back. The brutal shove jolted Shadoe’s trigger finger, a blast sounded, and Dark-Eyes went down, being hit point-blank in the chest. The loud blast woke everyone up, and Shamir, finding himself without his weapon charged on Shadoe. While the two fought, the captain grabbed for the gun, but wouldn’t shoot, afraid he would hit Shadoe.

  Shamir quickly realized he was no match for Shadoe, so he used the only weapon he had, his foot. As soon as he could, he lunged a booted foot upward and kicked Shadoe where he knew it would do the most damage.

  Shadoe doubled over and went down. The pain was unbelievable. When he woke up in the hospital, he had learned from the doctor that he had experienced testicle rupture. Shadoe didn’t know exactly what that meant, but it sounded bad. The doctor explained that such a brutal hit in the testicles had caused bleeding in the scrotum, and surgery was needed to stem the flow as well as untwist the cords. He tried to assure Shadoe that everything was completely normal, except that he had been left sterile. Hearing the words, Shadoe felt a jolt and lunged forward, brutally grabbing the doctor’s lapels.

  “My God,” Shadoe had said. “Can I still...?”

  “Of course you can,” the doctor assured him while gingerly prying Shadoe’s hands off his lapel. “You just can’t father children.”

  “You’re sure,” Shadoe urged, frowning into the doctor’s eyes.

  “Quite sure. Now you get some sleep, and in no time at all you’ll be pinching the nurses around here.”

  He later learned that the captain had managed to wrestle the gun away from Shamir, then blasted him in the head with it. He then quickly alerted the Miami airport, told them to contact the authorities to be on the scene when the plane arrived. Once there, the two dead bodies were carted off the plane and Shadoe was rushed to the hospital. All this had happened under the flashing bulbs, screaming voices, and the helter-skelter of the media.

  Now he was thankful for the darkness that hid his face. Getting to his feet, he said, “Guess I’d better check out....”

  Julita caught his hand in hers and he halted in his tracks. He hesitantly looked back at her questioningly.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong, Shadoe, but … well, whatever it is, with my past I’m in no condition to judge anyone. You wanted to kiss me, but you wouldn’t. I don’t know why, but your story couldn’t be any worse than mine.”

  “Hey,” he said, trying to act cocky. “I don’t know what the fuck you mean, Julita. I’m a cop. I deal in the underbelly of humanity. Hell, in my business you never know if the next bullet that’s fired is the one meant for you. That’s why I can’t get too close to those I’m trying to help, that’s all. I’ll be moving along soon, and I’d like the satisfaction of knowing that you’re better off when I leave than you were when I came.”

  “Of course,” she whispered, feeling the sting of his words. She turned and went back to the window and looked out. When she realized he hadn’t moved, she turned around. “You’d better go and check the place out … Lieutenant.”

  Shadoe couldn’t see the tears that glittered in her eyes, or hear the thoughts that rummaged through her mind. He had made it clear to
her that she was no more than a good roll in the hay. No involvements. Very cold, calculating, and impersonal.

  He made his way downstairs hating himself, but knowing that the best cure for love was having her feel that he was a heel hiding behind a cop’s badge.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Shadoe vaulted down the back steps, then out the back door, turned, and headed toward the ridge. His flashlight floated around, exposing the heavy, smoky mist. He ran toward to the edge and looked to the right where he could see the beach spread out below him. When he saw nothing, he felt that Julita must have been imagining it. He made a half turn, about to go back in, when he looked straight down into the giant warrior bones and saw movement. He trained the light on something, but could barely see the small shadow. He was convinced that someone was down there. He turned and quickly ran to the incline, sliding down most of the way. He then made a sharp left turn and found himself at the entrance to the bones. His eyes squinted, trying to see through the mist surrounding the jungle of bones, and could just barely make out a dark shape ahead of him.

  Who in God’s name would be out here, and where were they going? Maybe it was an animal. Sure, it had to be. No human being would be out on a night like this fooling around inside these petrified bones. He entered the hideous jungle very carefully, keeping his eye on the dark figure that climbed in and out until he came up behind it. The fog was so thick, and the ocean raged so, crashing in and out, that even at this close range he couldn’t tell who or what it was. Just then the dark figure turned around, looking, as if it knew it was being followed. His flashlight illuminated the face that looked back at him. It was a scowling, ghastly, scarecrow face, corpselike in the night, but full of fear and animal instinct as it stared back at him. It jolted him. The scars that covered her … evidence of what she’d been through on her long trek from the asylum to the inn. By the looks of her face, it was a wonder she was still alive. But like an animal … the determined face was full of survival instincts.

  “My God, it is Lucretia,” he muttered, then hurried, seeing her come out at the other side and run toward one of the caves. He chased her, being hindered by the sinking sand, and the constant spray of the crashing ocean waves. After climbing over sharp rock crevices, losing his footing many times, he finally came upon the wide mouth of the cave and looked in. He saw only darkness. “Lucretia,” he called out softly, “are you in here?” Hearing no reply, he pointed his flashlight, again illuminating her face.

  Lucretia was huddled in a corner, her fears escalating when she saw the floating light, and the form that came toward her.

  She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, but she could see him edging ever closer. Finally her desperate voice screeched, “Get away!”

  Shadoe kept his eyes on the mass of darkness hovering against the craggy, uneven wall of the cave. Even though there was nowhere to go, she tried to move away from him, the light glittering in her dark eyes.

  “Lucretia, my God, is that you?” he asked, squinting in the darkness.

  “Get away,” she hissed. “Get away, get out, and leave me alone!” As she moved along the wall, terror was etched on her face. Her wild eyes darted from him to the entrance to the cave, trying to figure out a way to get past him.

  “What in hell are you doing here?” As was his habit, he shot question after question at her. “How did you get out? Are you all right? How did you get here?” He looked around at the cave, seeing a blanket and some food that she’d stolen from the mansion. His searching eyes fell on the few matches she’d grabbed to build a campfire. “Don’t you know you can’t build a fire here? It’s too wet. You’ll die out here.” He tried to edge closer to her. “Let me help you….”

  “Stay away. Besides, what the hell do you care?” she hissed. “You sent me to that place! You, my father, and that … that tramp.”

  Shadoe could hear her labored breathing sawing in and out. “Lucretia, you’ve got to listen to me. Staying in this cave is sure death. Come back with me … to the mansion.”

  “So you can call the authorities? Get out of here and let me be. I’d rather die than go back.”

  “But I can’t leave you here. Inside it’s warm, comfortable. There’s food.”

  “And a telephone.”

  “No. I won’t turn you in, I swear. Just let me take you back up to the mansion where it’s warm. We’ll talk things through.”

  “I told you I’m not going anywhere with you, so get the hell out!” she hissed, then began sobbing as she slid down the wall, hiding her face in her hands. “Leave me alone to die.”

  “Won’t you....” His words faded, and he sighed, realizing it was no use. “All right, damn it. Whatever you say, but … but first let me make you comfortable. I can hear you shivering all the way over here. Come on and sit down at least and let me put the blanket around you. I’ll even try to build a fire.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette lighter. He moved the flashlight around, trying to find a few dry twigs, but instead he saw a flashlight that apparently Lucretia had brought out of the mansion. He quickly reached for it. It was the heavy-duty type and a careful flick of the switch lit up the small cave with a luminous glow. He looked around the cave. It was small and close. At the other end was a vertical tunnel that looked as if it led somewhere, but it was too small for a human body to climb through. “God, Lucretia, this is impossible. You’re stuck here. You can’t even get deep enough into the cave to stay dry. That space is way too small….”

  “There are other caves,” she said bitterly. She hadn’t moved from where she sat, and Shadoe could see her huddling to keep warm.

  “Yeah? And how long do you think these things will last? The batteries will eventually go dead, the matches will run out. Lucretia, don’t you see that you can’t live in these caves forever? You have to come back with me.”

  “I’ll find a way,” she said, glaring up at him.

  “You’ll get sick. It’s wet, cold. You’ll be dead before spring.” He saw her head lower into her hands. “Lucretia?” he urged, then heard her sobs. They seemed suppressed, as if she were trying to keep him from hearing. As was his usual habit, he moved immediately upon hearing a woman cry. He grabbed her away from the wall and closed his arms around her, bringing her close to his chest. “You’re shaking. You’re scared, cold, and....” When he felt movement, he looked down and saw a kitchen knife heading toward his stomach. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, forcing the knife to fall into the dirt. “You bitch!” he yelled jerking her face toward him. He saw the evil in her eyes. “You are crazy! I’m here to help you, but you try and kill me. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I hate your guts! That’s what’s wrong with me!”

  Shadoe released her abruptly, sending her stumbling backward. He reached down and picked up the knife and turned away, stalking angrily toward the mouth of the cave. When he reached the opening, he stopped and looked back. “All right, “Lucretia, you win. Stay out here and die. No one cares. No one will even miss you.” He turned then and ducked out, knowing his intent was to get back to the mansion and call the authorities.

  “No!” she yelled.

  He stopped, looked back in and saw her cringing in the light of the flash.

  “Don’t … don’t leave me,” she sobbed. “I … I can’t s-stay here. I … I j-just can’t.”

  “Lucretia, you’re dangerous. I can’t take you inside where the others are. I’d be putting them in danger. You don’t have to worry, though. I’ll call the authorities and have you out of here before morning.”

  “No!” she yelled, reaching out with her skinny arms in desperation. “Don’t call anyone, please. I … I’m sorry. It w-won’t happen again.”

  “Look, you crazy bitch, I’m not taking you inside, and that’s final. You’d lose your temper one time, and....”

  “I won’t, I promise,” she cried, her sobs sounding erratic and deep. She cringed, pulling her sweater around her arms while her
teeth chattered in the cold. To stay warm she sank to the ground, wrapping her arms around herself. “I just want....” She hesitated. “I just want to be warm again, sleep in a soft bed.” Her shoulders trembled and heaved with fresh sobs. She looked up at him. “If I have to stay here, I’ll run into the sea and drown myself. I know I will.”

  Shadoe walked deeper into the cave, wondering if he could trust her. If he took her back, then she’d be his responsibility. He could keep her locked in her room, or even in the basement if that didn’t work. At least she’d be out of the elements.

  “Who’s with you? I-is Papa....”

  “Just the three of us. Me, Julita, and Garret. No one else.”

  “Why … why d-did you come back?”

  Shadoe thought about the church. “You know the church I told you was in the woods?”

  She nodded, sniffing.

  “It’s there, Lucretia. No … I mean, it’s not always there, it’s a ghost church … a....

  “A dream,” she said harshly. “I told you that. A figment of your imagination.”

  “No … anyway that’s not important. If you want to come with me, you’d better gather that stuff up and come on.”

  “No.”

  He looked at her, puzzled.

  “I mean first I … I need to tell you something … warn you.”

  “Warn me? About what?”

  “It may not be me that you need to protect yourself from.”

  “What in hell do you mean?” he said, crouching down in front of her.

  “Papa....” she said softly, “h-he’s … I know you thought it was me, and I guess … well, it was in some ways, but Papa is the one you should really watch.”

  Believing her words held some truth, he became interested. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Papa was always cruel … to everyone. Even Mama. He held nothing sacred, not even family. He was always selfish, only thinking of himself. He’s a hedonistic old bastard, living his life only to satisfy his own perverted lusts. I always knew that, but when Mama died I had no one else. I wanted him to love me even if I knew it was the wrong kind of love.”

 

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