The Adventurers

Home > Other > The Adventurers > Page 11
The Adventurers Page 11

by Harold Robbins


  I felt the hot splash of blood against my shirt as the headless body rushed past me, then flopped crazily about on the ground. It was almost ten minutes before he was fully blooded and the body became still. It was almost dark when I picked up the great bird by the legs and hoisted it over my shoulder, the neck hanging down behind me.

  Slowly I started down the path. Manuelo was near the corral when I came in. “Where have you been?” he asked angrily. “You know you’re supposed to be back by dark.”

  I swung the turkey around from behind me and dropped it on the ground at his feet. He looked down at it. “Jesus Christ,” he said in an awed voice, “where did you get it?”

  “I heard him call as I was coming down from the lookout.”

  Manuelo picked up the big bird and hefted it. “At least fifteen kilos. Estrella, come see what Dax has brought! There’ll be a feast tomorrow!”

  But there was to be no feast because the soldiers came that night.

  ***

  It must have been only a few hours before dawn when I heard the first shot. I rolled out of bed and reached for my shoes. I was already dressed, for I had taken to sleeping like the others since our return. I felt for my knife under the pillow.

  From somewhere in the house I heard a woman screaming. I didn’t go out the door; I turned and dove from the window head first. I hit the overhang and rolled down the back roof to the ground, just as the house burst into flames behind me.

  I saw flashes of gunfire and heard men shouting as I scrambled to my hands and knees, then broke for the hillside. I leaped over some low bushes and rolled into a ditch. I caught my breath and then cautiously raised my head.

  All I could see by the light of flames was red and blue uniforms everywhere. Manuelo and Santiago the Older came running around the side of the house. I saw the flashes from their rifles. One of the soldiers fell over, another screamed and clutched at his belly. Then one of the soldiers reached behind him and threw something at Manuelo which turned over and over in midair.

  “Manuelo!” I screamed. “Watch out!”

  But nobody heard me. One moment Manuelo was standing there and the next he seemed to explode into a thousand pieces. Two soldiers were after Santiago now. His rifle was empty and he ran from one to the other, swinging it like a club. Then they lunged toward him and I heard his scream as one bayonet went through his neck, the other drove into his intestines from the rear.

  I put my head down and ran along the bottom of the drainage ditch toward the front of the house. When I got to the lookout path, which was hidden by bushes, I peered up over the ditch again. I heard a scream and saw Amparo running past, her white nightdress billowing out behind her. I grabbed for a leg, and she tumbled to the ground. Before she could scream again, I put my hand over her mouth and pulled her down into the ditch.

  Her eyes stared up at me, wide, stricken with terror. I put my face close to hers. “Be silent!” I hissed. “It’s me, Dax!”

  The terror left her eyes and she nodded. I lifted my hand from her mouth. “Lay there and be quiet. I’m going to have another look.”

  I stuck my head up above ground level. Santiago the Younger lay dead not four feet from me, his sightless eyes staring at me. Others lay dead, nearer the house. The soldiers were still there. A woman, her clothing ablaze, ran screaming from the house. Behind her ran Eduardo, crying, “Mamá! Mamá!”

  There was a burst of gunfire, and the woman tumbled to the ground. Eduardo, just behind her, fell over her, and a soldier ran toward them and lunged with his bayonet, again and again.

  Another figure came charging out of the house, the fire highlighting the machete he was swinging with both hands. It was Roberto, and the general would have been proud of him. There was no fear on his face, nothing but hatred as he ran screaming toward the soldier.

  Taken completely by surprise, the soldier turned and ran. But it was too late. The machete came down and suddenly the soldier’s arm seemed to fall away from his shoulder. He yelled in agony and fell sideways, just as a burst of gunfire came from behind him. Roberto seemed to hang in the air for a moment, then crashed backward to the ground, near the bodies of his brother and his brother’s mother.

  Now there was only the crackling and roaring of the fire. Then I heard the sound of a woman crying. Three women were huddled together to one side of the house. They were surrounded by soldiers. I could see Amparo’s mother in the middle. She seemed to be trying to hold up Roberto’s mother. Manuelo’s woman appeared stony-faced, beyond feeling.

  An officer came walking over. I couldn’t see his face but it didn’t matter. I knew him the moment he opened his mouth. I would never forget that voice, not until the day I died.

  “They are all dead?”

  “Sí, Coronel,” a sergeant answered. “All but these women here.”

  The coronel nodded. “Bueno. Do what you will with them. But remember, they must be dead when we leave. I have sworn an oath that not one traitor shall live!”

  “Sí, Coronel.”

  The coronel turned his back and walked around the corner of the house, out of sight. The women were already stripped and spread-eagled on the ground, and a line of soldiers was queuing up in front of each. I felt a motion beside me and turned. It was Amparo, her eyes wide. “What are they doing?”

  I knew what they were doing. Raping and killing. That was the way it was. But suddenly I knew it would serve no purpose for her to see. She was only a child. How could she be expected to understand what men did in the course of fighting?

  I pulled her back down into the ditch. “It doesn’t matter,” I whispered.

  “What are we going to do?” Her voice trembled. She was beginning to get frightened again.

  I took her hand and pulled her along after me toward the path to the lookout. But when we got up there, it was deserted. Fat Cat was not there. Suddenly I knew where he had gone.

  To Estanza for the black stallion.

  I looked down the path on the other side to the south. It lay dark and deserted. If we hurried we might catch up with him. The night was breaking, the day just beginning to appear over my right shoulder. The morning chill lay heavy on the ground.

  “I’m cold,” Amparo whimpered, shivering in her thin nightdress.

  I knew what I had to do. Fat Cat had taught me. I took off my heavy Indian shirt and draped it around Amparo. It came down almost to her calves. Then I took off my shoes and made her put them on her bare feet.

  “Now,” I said quietly, and with as much reassurance as I could force into my voice, “we’ll walk a little while. We’ll rest when the sun comes up to warm us.”

  17

  We were no more than a quarter of the way down the mountain when I heard the faint sound of men’s voices behind us. I grabbed Amparo’s arm, and we scrambled through the bushes until I found a spot where the underbrush was thickest. We crawled into the very middle. We weren’t a moment too soon.

  I heard the heavy tread of boots, and four soldiers appeared almost directly in front of us, their rifles carried at the ready.

  “Hola!” one said, throwing himself on the ground not more than a dozen feet away. “I’ve had enough. I can go no farther.”

  The others stood around looking down at him.

  “Sit down,” he urged. “You are as tired as I.”

  “But el coronel said to check the path all the way down,” one of the others answered doubtfully.

  The man on the ground looked up. “Is el coronel with us? No, he is down there boozing it up while we exhaust ourselves in these cursed mountains. Fuck el coronel.”

  Another dropped down beside him. “A moment’s rest,” he said. “Who is to know?”

  The others sprawled to the ground. After a moment one of them propped himself up against a tree trunk. “Which one did you have?”

  The first soldier rolled over on his side. “I fucked all of them,” he bragged. “As soon as I unloaded in one, I got up and joined another line.”

  The seco
nd soldier shook his head. “No wonder you’re so pooped.”

  “Which one did you screw?”

  “The hysterical one. I don’t see why she made such a fuss. She had a cunt big enough to accommodate a stallion. I couldn’t even feel the sides.”

  “She wasn’t very good,” one of the others agreed.

  The first soldier grinned broadly. “The blonde was the best. You could tell she was getting it regularly. She pressed down the moment you put it in and—pop—you had it. If there hadn’t been so many behind me I’d have slipped it to her again. The next time she wouldn’t have got off so easy.” He reached for his canteen. “I need a drink. All the liquid has been drained out of me.”

  He held the canteen to his lips, and water trickled out of the corners of his mouth and down his cheeks.

  “I’m thirsty, too,” Amparo whispered.

  “Shh!”

  She wriggled and brushed at her face. “There are mosquitoes.”

  I became aware of them on my back. Before I had been too busy concentrating on the soldiers. Moving very slowly so I would not disturb the underbrush, I pulled her nightdress up from inside my shirt and covered her face. “Lie there and don’t move,” I whispered. “They can’t get at your face now.”

  But they could get to me; I was bare to my waist. Every few seconds I would feel one sting me, but there was nothing I could do about it. Not while the soldiers were there.

  Presently one of them got to his feet. “I guess we’d better get moving.”

  “What for?” the first soldier asked. “There’s nobody down there.”

  “But el coronel ordered us to check the path thoroughly.”

  The first soldier laughed. “That means we’d wind up at the bottom of the mountain and only have to climb right back up again.” He glanced up at the sun. “We can rest here until noon, then report back. Who will ever know?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “O.K., go ahead if you insist. We’ll rest here until you come back.”

  The one standing looked at the others, but they made no move to join him. After a moment, he dropped to the ground again. “What you say is true. Who will ever know?”

  I turned my head. Amparo’s face was hidden by the nightshirt. I could sense her breathing, quietly and evenly. Cautiously I lifted the nightdress. She was fast asleep.

  I covered her face again and turned back to the soldiers. One was already on his back, his arms outstretched and snoring with his mouth open. The others had scrunched themselves down into more comfortable positions and were beginning to close their eyes.

  It would be good if I could rest too. But I didn’t dare. I fought to keep my eyes open. The sun kept climbing into the sky, the day became warmer. I could feel my back burning with insect stings but I didn’t dare brush them away.

  I tried to keep my eyes open but every few minutes my head would fall forward. I kept lifting it up but after a while even I must have dozed. But when I heard a noise suddenly I came awake.

  The soldiers were all standing now. As I watched they went off to the other side of the road to relieve themselves. A moment later one of them called to the others, “It’s late enough now. We can start back.”

  I watched them move back up the path until they were out of sight beyond the bend. Soon I could no longer hear the sounds of their voices. Amparo was still sleeping. I shook her gently.

  She raised her head and pushed the nightdress away from her face. Her eyes were still filled with sleep. “I’m hungry,” she said, rubbing them.

  “We’ll eat soon.”

  “Let’s go home. Mamá promised me we would have the turkey you killed yesterday for dinner.”

  “We can’t. The soldiers are still there.”

  Sleep vanished from her eyes as memory flooded through her. Suddenly she began to cry. “Mamá! Mamá! Mamá!”

  “Cut that out!” I said roughly.

  “I will see Mamá later?”

  “Sure.” How could I tell her that she would never see her mother again? “How did you escape from the house?”

  “When the soldiers took Mamá I was hiding under the bed. As soon as they left I jumped out of the window and began to run.” Tears came to her eyes again. “I ran and ran and ran.”

  “That was a very clever thing to do.”

  Her eyes brightened. “It was?”

  The one thing that Amparo loved was flattery. She could never get enough of it. “I am clever, aren’t I?”

  “Very.”

  She nodded, pleased with herself, and looked out at the path. “Are they gone?”

  “They’re gone.” I got to my feet. “And it’s time for us to go, too.”

  “Where are we going?”

  I thought for a moment. We could never catch up to Fat Cat now, but I knew where he was going. “To Estanza.”

  “Estanza?” she asked. “Where’s that?”

  “A long way from here. We’ll have to walk.”

  “I like to walk.”

  “But we’ll have to be very careful. We can’t let anyone see us. If we hear anybody coming we’ll have to hide.”

  “It might be the soldiers,” she said brightly.

  “Even if it’s not, we’ll have to hide. Whoever it was might tell the soldiers they saw us.”

  “I’ll be careful,” she promised. “I’m hungry and thirsty.”

  “There’s a brook a little farther on.”

  “I also have to pee.”

  That was one thing she didn’t have to wait for. “Over there in the bushes.”

  Amparo went over to the bushes and squatted. Delicately she hiked up her clothes. “I can’t pee if you stand there watching me!”

  I turned away, smiling to myself. Girls were funny. What difference did it make if I watched her or not?

  We reached the brook in about half an hour. I remembered what Fat Cat had told me and cautioned her about drinking too rapidly. I stretched out on the bank and lowered my face into the water. My back began to itch; the hot sun had aggravated the mosquito bites. I reached behind me and scratched. I could feel welts on my skin. I splashed some water over my shoulder.

  Amparo stood there watching. “Your back is all bitten. Mamá always put bay leaves on my mosquito bites.”

  “What do they look like?”

  “There’s a whole clump over there.” She pointed to a group of bushes.

  I picked off a handful and tried to put them on my back, but they kept falling off. Amparo held out her hand. “You don’t know very much, do you?” she asked in an exasperated voice. “Better let me do it.”

  I stared at her, then silently handed her the leaves. She dipped them in the water for a moment. “Turn around.”

  I turned my back. I could feel the wet leaves and water running down my back. She was right; after a few minutes the stinging did go away. I sat staring into the brook. Suddenly movement caught my eye, and a small school of fish swam by.

  I remembered that the younger Santiago used to spear fish using an arrow. I looked around for a straight branch about as thick. When I found one I quickly stripped it of its leaves with my knife, then made a sharp point and barb at one end. I got to my knees and crouched at the stream’s edge.

  The fish came by again. I lunged but they were too quick for me; all I succeeded in doing was almost tumbling into the water. I set myself again. After the third try I began to get the feel of it. The fish would break, all going in opposite directions, and the thing was to guess which one would be coming toward you.

  I decided it would be the one in the back. I let them swim by the first time because I didn’t think the one in the back would come close enough. The second time, however, he was just right. I lunged and felt the spear bite into him.

  I turned triumphantly, holding up the stick with the wriggling fish impaled on it. “We eat!”

  An expression of distaste crossed Amparo’s face. “Raw?” she asked. “How are you going to cook it?”

  I could feel my trium
ph fade. Slowly I sank down on a large flat rock. I yelled as my bottom hit it. The rock was as hot as a griddle from the heat of the sun. I stood there staring down at the rock. If it was hot enough to burn my ass, it was hot enough to fry a fish.

  18

  The fish was good, even if it was a little raw. I caught two more before our hunger was satisfied and each time I had to scrape them from the rock with my knife. It was just as well we ate so much then, because for the next two days all we could find were nuts and berries. The third morning we came across a mango tree and we gorged ourselves so greedily that we both had stomach cramps and had to stay there for the balance of that day.

  Amparo began to cry when night came. “I want to go home.”

  I looked at her silently. There was nothing I could say. I sat there awkwardly, as helpless as any man when confronted by a woman’s tears. Her usually pretty face was thin and drawn by the ravages of diarrhea.

  “My tush hurts,” she said.

  Mine was sore too. I’d know better than to gobble mangoes next time. “Sleep. It will be better in the morning.”

  She stamped her foot angrily. “I don’t want to! I’m tired of sleeping on the ground, half freezing and having bugs crawling over me. I want to go home and sleep in my own bed!”

  “Well, you can’t.”

  “I am going to!” She began to stamp both feet angrily.

  I knew what that meant. She was about to throw one of her famous tantrums. I didn’t feel like having any of it. I lashed out with my hand, catching her on the cheek, and for a moment she was frozen in surprise. Then the tears really welled up into her eyes. “You hit me!”

  “And I’ll do it again if you don’t shut up!” I said savagely.

  “I hate you!”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I really mean it! I’m not going to marry you!”

  I lay back in the grass and closed my eyes.

  For a moment there was silence. I heard nothing, then I felt her move closer to me. She snuggled against my side. “I’m cold, Dax.”

 

‹ Prev