Eldorado

by Jay Allan Storey

  She glanced over and saw a hand reach out of the elevator shaft to grip the edge of the floor. Serena pulled off a shoe and hammered at the fingers with the heel. Jun’s scream echoed down the shaft as his body fell past the cage to the ground eight floors below.

  Lacy had cut the rope almost through; she was sure it would snap any second. Inexplicably, the horse began to plow forward, as if somewhere deep within its terrified brain it had suddenly remembered its mission. In seconds, the cage had risen high enough that Hugo could almost reach his hand above the level of the floor. He began firing off his gun in random directions, hoping to hit something.

  The renewed gunfire drove the horse into a blind fury. It stood rampant and charged brainlessly forward, bellowing and foaming at the mouth. Lacy heard a loud pop as the rope stretched as taut as a piano wire.

  She looked down at her cut. The last few strands snapped and curled back. With a deafening crack that knocked her off her feet, the rope finally snapped in two. One end followed the elevator cage down the shaft. A torrent of curses and screams echoed from below as the cage careened off of one wall of the shaft, then another. Lacy was gratified that the last pathetic shriek she heard came from the voice of Boris.

  The horse, freed from its burden, exploded down the hallway, kicking and screaming. It was as if the pain of all the years caged in the dark corridor had climaxed in an uncontrollable fury that it now chose to unleash on anything nearby. It reached the end, where the stairwell had been blocked off and, whether through some dim understanding of what was behind it or just through blind rage, began kicking at the barrier with its hind legs.

  Lacy crawled over to Serena, who still lay beside the open shaft.

  “Can you stand up?” Lacy said.

  “I don’t know.”

  Serena turned to hoist herself up. A patch of blood was expanding over her midsection.

  Lacy could hear the wood shattering as the horse lashed out at the stairwell barrier. She sprinted down and got as close as she dared. The horse had knocked an opening almost big enough for them to squeeze through, and it continued to hammer away with its hind legs. Occasionally, the poor animal would stop and charge up the hallway, kicking at the walls as it went.

  She rushed back to Serena.

  “We’ve got to go down the stairs!” she yelled above the horse’s screams. “We’ve got to get you to a hospital.”

  Lacy put her arm around the other girl and helped her to her feet. There was a large puddle of blood where Serena had lain.

  “The horse knocked a hole in the barrier,” She yelled into Serena’s ear. “We’ll wait until it moves away then sneak past it to the stairs.”

  “It’ll kick us to death!” panted Serena, who looked worse by the second.

  “We’ve got no choice,” yelled Lacy.

  As if in answer to her prayers, the horse paused in its frenzy of destruction and bucked up the hallway toward them.

  “Now!” yelled Lacy. The two stumbled down the passage, Lacy supporting Serena’s weight. They approached the panic-stricken horse and pressed themselves against the farthest wall. They were almost past when the horse unleashed a massive kick with its hind legs. The wall beside Lacy’s head exploded as the kick missed her by inches. She dragged Serena out of the horse’s range and toward the opening.

  When they got to the barrier she could see that the hole was no larger than when she’d first checked. A length of two-by-six effectively cut it in half, leaving two openings, neither wide enough for them to squeeze through. Lacy pulled at the remaining board. She glanced at Serena. The girl’s eyes were partly closed, and her chin was resting on her chest.

  “Stay awake,” Lacy yelled. Serena lifted her head and looked around.

  Lacy jammed her knife into the gap behind the board and pulled with all her strength.

  “The horse is coming back!” cried Serena.

  Lacy glanced over. The horse was careening down the hallway toward them. She applied the entire weight of her body to the knife. The blade snapped, and the handle flew up, landing with a ‘pinging’ sound. Lacy fell backwards and banged her head on the floor. She almost blacked out, but with a shake of her head forced herself awake. She stared up at the board. The knife blade was still jammed into the gap, but the board had pulled out more than an inch.

  The horse was about ten yards away and coming fast. She could now get both hands into the gap, and she pulled at the loosened board, bracing both feet against the wall. With a snap the board finally broke free and they could pass through. She positioned Serena in front of the opening.

  “Go,” she yelled. “Hurry! The horse is right behind us!”

  “I’m tired,” said Serena, as white as death.

  “Come on,” said Lacy. “We’re almost out!”

  Serena entered the opening. Lacy supported most of the other girl’s weight, and, pushing with all her strength, finally squeezed Serena through. As soon as it was clear, Lacy jumped through herself. She’d no sooner reached the other side when the wall above their heads was shattered by a new blow from the horse’s hooves. The crashing and screaming of the horse was deafening as they half ran, half staggered down the stairwell.

  “I don’t know if I can make it,” said Serena, when they had gone down a couple of floors.

  “You can do it,” said Lacy. “Come on – put your weight on me. Come on!”

  They had gone down three floors when Lacy heard a horrifying sound. The horse had punched a hole through the barrier, and was now crashing down the stairs, all the while bellowing and kicking at the stairwell walls.

  “Oh my God!” she said. “We’re dead if we don’t make it out of here before it gets to us! Here – climb on my back.”

  Serena wrapped her arms around Lacy’s shoulders and her legs weakly around Lacy’s waist. As soon as she was in place, Lacy took off, taking two stairs at a time, trying desperately to maintain her hold on Serena, who was weakening with every stride.

  They heard the horse crashing down closer and closer. Lacy prayed that it would break a leg or injure itself, but it just seemed to keep coming. It was right behind them, about to turn the last bend in the stairway above, when Lacy finally saw the light from the outside door. She gripped Serena’s clasped hands tightly and raced toward the light, emerging from the stairwell doorway just as Serena began to slide off.

  She cushioned the now unconscious girl’s fall to the ground and dragged her out of the way seconds before the horse burst through the door and out into the street. It bucked, kicked up, and screamed in rage for several minutes until suddenly, as if it finally dawned on the poor beast that it had actually escaped, it settled down and began a slow canter around the square in front of the building.

  Lacy turned to Serena. “We made it!” she cried. Serena opened her eyes weakly.

  “Wha…” she mumbled.

  “We made it, Serena. We made it out!”

  “We made it!” Serena repeated in a whisper. “Thank God!” The two hugged and cried on each other’s shoulders. Seconds later, Serena slumped over limply. Lacy felt for a pulse, but found none. She knelt over her friend’s body, took her in her arms and cried like a baby.

  “No! No! We made it! We made it! You were so close – so close!” she sobbed.

  The whine of Mosquito bikes and the blare of police sirens echoed toward them.

  A Reckless Act

  Richard gave Zonk a pat as he and Carrie followed Keller into the RV and sat down around the table. Keller went out to the fire-pit and soon returned with tea for all of them.

  “Crack’s one of the most notorious gangsters in the city,” he said as he sipped his tea. “He’s attached to one of the most powerful militias, an ultra-right-wing outfit called the ‘Triumph of the Will’ – ‘Triumph’ for short. “They’ve got a fanatical belief in the philosophy of ‘every man for himself’. Their big beef is energy. They resent government control of energy sources, and they resent them being rationed out – you know – Energy Triage
and such.

  “I don’t think Crack could give a damn about Triumph and their philosophy – he just wants the chance to butcher at will, and maybe share in any power they might grab if they win. There's lots of other gangs, militias, armies, etcetera out there, all fighting to fill the law and order vacuum. The ‘real’ army’s power depends on mobility, and mobility depends on cheap energy. They’ve never been able to come up with a practical electric tank or jet fighter, and the cops are stuck with those piddly little Mosquitoes. Without energy, it’s tough for either of them to enforce the rule of law.”

  “So does this Crack have some kind of regular hangout?” said Richard.

  Keller stared at him. “Look, you’re not going to be of any use to Danny if you’re dead. If he’s still alive, you want to be around to help him. Believe me, if you tangle with Crack and his crowd you won’t be. What are you planning to do – stroll up to Crack and ask him what he did with Danny?”

  “You said yourself that if I leave this to the cops, nothing will happen,” said Richard. “It’s been over a week now, and they’re still convinced Danny’s either not really missing or dead. Even if they were serious about the case, they’ve got more pressing problems than one missing kid. Can you honestly tell me that you disagree with that assessment?”

  Keller stared into his teacup for several seconds.

  “These guys move around constantly,” he finally said, looking up. “I know some people who could probably find out where Crack is at the moment, but I’d have to go to town and talk to my contacts. How do you two feel about looking after the old homestead for a day?”

  “Actually, it might be just as well for us to stay here. Somebody broke into my place while I was gone. They didn’t take anything, just tore the place up. It might not be safe to stay there right now.”

  Keller looked up in shock. “They didn’t take anything?”

  “Just from the garden - maybe something scared them off.”

  “Maybe,” said Keller, shaking his head. “It’s too late for me to leave now. I’d want to meet with my people and be holed up indoors before dark. We’ll have to wait until morning and I can be off first thing. There’s room in the RV for all of us. It’ll be a bit cramped, but it’s only one night.”

  “Thanks – I appreciate it.”

  “Look – you sure this is what you want? ‘Cause I’m not exaggerating here – this guy is a murdering psychopath, and he’s got a gang of murdering psychopaths working for him. Maybe you should check out some other options first.”

  “I’ve explored all the other options. We know that Danny was hanging out with Crack. Now Danny’s missing. You can bet Crack’s got something to do with it.”

  “Okay, okay” said Keller. “I’ll head out tomorrow. Let’s not talk about it anymore. Come on outside. I’ve got a special treat for you two.”

  Carrie spoke up, “Would you mind if I took a nap? I’m pretty exhausted.”

  “No problem,” said Keller. “Just a second and I’ll set up the bunk for you.”

  ***

  Carrie slept for a couple of hours and woke feeling surprisingly refreshed. As she slid down from the bunk, she heard strange sounds coming from outside. Warily, she tiptoed to the door. Richard and Keller were sitting by the fire-pit. Each had a sawed-off stump for a chair and a glass jar half-filled with a golden liquid in one hand. Zonk sat between them.

  They rocked back and forth, singing:

  Awwwwr you my darling

  Awwwwr you my love

  Awwwwr you an angel sent from above

  They would sing each ‘awwwwr’ as if they were howling, and with each howl, Zonk would join in and actually howl along. Carrie doubled over laughing. The singing continued:

  Awwwwwr you the answer to all of my prayers

  O please say that you awwwwr, say that you awwwwr

  She wandered over to join them.

  “Hello, sleepyhead,” called Richard on seeing her, with a slur in his voice. “Sorry if we woke you. Jim and I were just teaching Zonk a song.”

  “And I see Jim’s been teaching you where he keeps his bootleg hooch,” laughed Carrie.

  “Well – yeah – that too,” he admitted.

  “It’s good to see you loosening up a bit,” said Carrie.

  “Hey, I’m loose, baby,” laughed Richard. “Here - have a drink.”

  “Is it drinkable?”

  “Nectar of the Gods.”

  “Then sure – deal me in.”

  Richard stood up and began to sway. Carrie jumped forward and grabbed his glass.

  “I think maybe you’ve had enough for one day,” she said.

  “Yeah, maybe,” he answered. “Jim, what the hell’s in this stuff?”

  “An old family recipe,” laughed Keller, “and a trade secret.”

  “Come on,” said Carrie, putting her arm around Richard’s waist and guiding him to the RV. “I think it’s bedtime for you young man.”

  “Who you callin’ young!” Richard drawled as she led him into the RV.

  A few minutes later she re-emerged and joined Keller at the fire. Zonk lay with his eyes closed by Keller’s feet.

  “Is that offer of a drink still open?” she said, sitting down on Richard’s vacated stump.

  “Absolutely,” said Keller. He went inside the RV for a few seconds and emerged with a clean jar.

  “He’s dead to the world,” Keller said, tilting his head back toward the RV. He twisted the cap off of a bottle filled with the golden liquid and began to pour.

  “Not too much,” said Carrie. “I don’t want to end up like him.”

  “Sure,” said Keller. “Just a touch to wet your whistle.” He poured an inch or so into the jar and handed it to her. He held up his own jar for a toast:

  “To seeking…and finding,” he said, and clinked his glass against hers.

  “To seeking and finding,” she repeated, “alive.”

  “Amen to that,” said Keller. "And speaking of that, somehow I get the feeling that you're a lot of the reason why he's still alive.” Again Keller motioned with his head toward the RV.

  "For somebody that's never been outside of the city, he's done okay,” said Carrie. “But I'm not sure how long he would have lasted without anyone to help him. I couldn't just let him go off and throw his life away."

  "But that's not the only reason…"

  "What?"

  "That's not the only reason you're helping him."

  Carrie felt herself blushing.

  "Well, yeah – I guess," she finally answered.

  "So you're planning to go with him when he runs off looking for Crack?”

  “Yeah.”

  “However you feel about him, I hope I’ve impressed on you the danger we're going to be facing."

  "We?"

  "You don’t think I’m going to miss out on this do you? I've never shied away from a fight before, and I'm not about to start now. I don’t know what we’re going to do if and when we actually catch up with Crack, but I can guarantee that whatever it is will involve an insane amount of danger. We're talking life and death here.”

  "You and I have both beaten the odds so far,” said Carrie, “Maybe a miracle will happen and we’ll beat them again. If not…I’m not afraid to die.”

  Keller said nothing, but reached out with a stick and poked at the fire. A swirling halo of sparks rose on a column to the sky.

  ***

  The next morning Keller threw some things into a backpack and was gone. After breakfast, Richard and Carrie sat around the fire. Richard absently scratched Zonk behind the ears.

  “So this is the dog you got to protect yourself?” Carrie said.

  “Yeah…Well, I admit that he’s not exactly your ideal guard dog…”

  “I think ‘not exactly’ is kind of an understatement. So is there anything else he can do?”

  “Uh… shake a paw?” he suggested. As if feeling the need to defend his dog, he looked down at Zonk and actually said, “Come on, Z
onk. Shake a paw…” he thrust out his hand hopefully.

  Zonk lay on the ground. Only his eyes moved, gazing up at Richard as if he had no idea what he was talking about.

  “He can do it,” Richard insisted. “He’s probably just tired right now or something.”

  “He’s been sleeping all night. He just woke up.”

  “Well, maybe he didn’t sleep very well – how do I know?”

  Carrie just shook her head.

  “Anyway,” said Richard. “It was Danny who really wanted Zonk. They seemed to form an instant bond.”

  “Well, no accounting for taste,” said Carrie. “But I guess that’s a fair enough reason to keep Zonk around. He is kind of lovable in an innocuous sort of way.”

  “Don’t you listen to her, Zonk,” crooned Richard, putting his hands over the dog’s ears. “Don’t let the mean woman upset you.”

  They sat without speaking for several seconds.

  “I’m sorry about what happened back at the College,” Richard said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’m more attracted to you…”

  “You don’t have to explain anything,” said Carrie. “Take whatever time you need. I want you to be sure.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” said Richard, reaching out and taking her hand. “It’s been on my mind since we left, and I’ve decided that I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

  Gently he took her in his arms and kissed her. They strolled together hand in hand to Keller’s RV.

  Keller returned late that afternoon.

  “Good to see you back safe and sound,” said Richard. “How did the trip go?”

  “Let’s go in and sit down,” Keller gestured toward the RV, “and we can talk about it.”

  “Well,” Keller said, once they were settled in, “my contacts were able to find out where Crack is holed up right now. He’s laying low in an abandoned industrial park about an hour’s bike ride northeast of here. He’s been there for a couple of weeks, and he’s getting ready to move, so if we’re going to do anything, it better happen soon.”