by Isaac Stone
This time it was another metal box. I saw the gleam from it again, although they’d placed the cache in a tree. No problem. The tree wasn’t that big and the cache was easy to reach from the ground. I could see it in the distance from where we stood.
Just to be on the safe side, I slid the logbook in my jacket. I held the shotgun in my arms.
“Excuse me everyone,” I told them. “I think I see something in the distance we can use. It’s by their camp, but won’t take me a second to get it. Wait here and get ready to run if they see me.”
“Are you sure this is such a good idea?” Lester pouted as I began to walk away.
“It’s too good to leave alone,” I called back to him in a low voice.
I reached the cache in a few minutes. There were no sounds from the camp other than the snores of the mobsters. I guessed they’d sampled a bit too much of their product.
I reached up and pulled the cache down to me. This one wasn’t more than six inches in diameter, so I didn’t expect it would hold much. However, any help would be good at this stage of the game. What could it hold that would cause trouble at this small size? The lid was screwed in place.
I carefully unscrewed the lid and pulled it off the round cache container. I felt it resist my tug and pulled a little harder.
The first sign of something wrong was the smell of burning phosphorus. The same smell you encounter when a match burned. I looked inside the cache and saw what caused the noxious smell.
It was very clever. The lid was attacked to a pack of matches that were pressed to an emery board. When I had pulled the lid off, the pack was tugged along the board, which ignited them. I stood there and watched the matches do their job as the fuse to a pack of firecrackers was lit. It wouldn’t do a lot of damage, but it would make a big noise.
I tossed the cache with the lit firecrackers at the clearing and ran in the opposition direction, toward the rest of the treasure hunters. They saw me running as fast as I could through the dense forest growth. Howard folded up his map and had it packed in his jacket by the time I was in ear range.
“What happened?” he asked me in a soft voice.
“Run!” I screamed at the same time the all the fireworks went off.
It wasn’t a loud explosion compared to what happened on July 4th in most places, but it sounded like the start of the Battle of Verdun from where we stood. The fireworks went off in the middle of the bootlegger’s camp with a loud series of bangs. They didn’t last long, just ten seconds or less. It didn’t matter; the next sound we heard was from the angry bootleggers firing their guns in the air. Someone had attacked their camp and they took action.
‘Great plan, Huxley!” Lester snapped at me.
“Shut up,” I told him. “It was a trap and I fell for it. We need to get out of here or they’ll kill us all.”
We ran through the brush, with the thorns and branches tearing at our clothes. The only thing that gave me hope was the mobsters were in unfamiliar territory and would have the same problems we did in the forest. From what I could tell by the camp set-up, they were from the big city. These were not Hatfield and McCoy backwoods people, but gangsters from Chicago who’d set their operation up in the best place to hide it.
What didn’t occur to me was they might have people who were local that worked for them as trackers and guards. Plenty of these hill people recognized no law off the mountain and anyone who trespassed on it was fair game. We continued to run as the gunshots echoed in the distance.
I saw a rock ahead that jutted yards out of the ground. This might be the opportunity we needed.
“Over there!” I yelled and ran around the back of it. The rest of the team followed me.
I shushed everyone and placed one finger to my lips. We all slowed our breathing down and waited. The mobsters were close.
We heard the sound of men swearing as they ran past the rock and in the direction we’d taken before ducking behind the hiding place. The sounds disappeared as the gangsters continued in the distance.
“I think we lost them,” Howard said. “At least for now.”
“Next time you go looking for something,” Lester growled at me. “Let me know so I can run the other direction.” He blamed me for this mess, I could tell.
“They know we’re here,” I told them. “We have to get out of here and find a place to hide. Howard, are we close to the asylum? We can use it.” I pulled out my logbook and did some calculations with the character cards. Funny, a new card had appeared. It was of a mountain man and I hadn’t notice it before.
I dropped my pocket watch as I placed the logbook back on my pack, which was heavier all the time. The watch fell to the ground and I saw it roll down the edge of the rocks.
Before I could go fetch it, a hand appeared from behind one of the rocks and picked it up. The man whom the hand was attached stepped out from behind the rocks and leveled his shotgun at us. He wore a wool shirt and dirty work pants. His long beard completed the ensemble.
“Always wanted one of these,” He announced as he looked at the pocket watch. “Guess I’ll keep it.”
6
The bootleggers were a bunch of gat men and thugs. I counted fifteen of them as they marched us back to the camp. I wasn’t scared, why should I be? If they killed me, I would wake up in the chamber with Rhonda shaking her head. There was no reason to worry. It was more of a frustration than anything else. My three companions tried not to look scared, but they were. At least as scared as the programs allowed. I worried Lester would try something stupid and end it all right now.
After he’d appeared from behind the rock, Thermon, the mountain man who found us, held us covered with his shotgun as he yelled for the others. In a few minutes, the mob of bootleggers appeared and escorted us back to their camp.
Once we were taken to the camp, they tied our wrists behind our back and sat us in front of the campfire. I started to worry when the gangsters spent the day bringing out the hooch barrels out of the still house in front of us. It meant they didn’t care if we saw their operation or not. This indicated we weren’t going to be around long.
Out of one of the huts emerged the boss. He wore a sharp, tailored suit with twin-tone shoes. He had a slouched hat and glared down his cigar at the three of us. Although the rest of the men carried a variety of guns, he didn’t. As the boss, he didn’t need to carry a weapon out in the open. He appeared to be forty years of age and had a scar across his broke nose. This was a man who would kill you as soon as eating a plate of macaroni.
He turned to Thermon and smiled. “Well done,” he spoke. “I see you captured the bunch of them when my boys ran past. I guess it pays to keep a local man on the payroll who knows the lay of the land. What were you doing out in the woods and why didn’t you see them earlier?”
“I was clearing the path down the mountain for the trucks, Mr. Noamsky,” he told him. “I heard the bang when I was on my way back. I ran up here just in time to see them go behind the rocks.”
“Next time I will send out someone with you so they learn how to find their way around.”
He turned to the rest of the gangsters who were standing idly with their guns. “I don’t know who put the box with the fireworks out there and I don’t care,” he spoke again. “It was a good trap although someone should have posted a sentry. The important thing is the whiskey. We have forty barrels that need to be down the mountain by tomorrow.”
“So what do we do about them, boss?” a young man next to me asked. “They don’t look like federals.” He twirled his pistol.
“Kill them,” the mob boss answered. “We’ll worry about who they were later.”
“That’s a mighty tall order,” Thermon muttered through his beard. “You sure you want to do that Mr. Noamsky?” He scratched his long beard.
“Enough with the formal titles,” the mobster replied. “My friends call me Morrie; you can call me ‘Boss’. And when I want your hillbilly opinion, I will ask for it.” He glared at the mounta
in man who averted his eyes downward.
He turned back to the gat men. “I need three of you to take them down the hill and shoot the bunch. Make sure it’s done right as we don’t want anyone crawling off later like what happened last month. It was fortunate we found him before he made it to that farmhouse. I want the three best shots here, so that means Ostep, Ivan and Alexi. Do it when it gets dark.” The three men he called popped up when they heard their names called out.
The sun was setting by now. They’d waited for it to get dark before the boss appeared to pronounce his judgement.
I wasn’t worried as much as bored. I spent the next few hours trying to figure a way out of the mess that didn’t end with a bullet in my head. Lester tried to whisper something to Bonnie a few times, but one of the goons yelled at him. I could see no way out of this situation. We had our hands tied behind our backs and were surrounded by men with guns who wouldn’t hesitate to kill us. I even considered making a racket just so one of them would shoot me and end the game. At least I would know better than to pick up unknown caches again when they were close to camp full of cutthroats.
The gangsters were speaking a variety of East European languages. I recognized plenty of Russian and Ukrainian, with some Polish through in for good measure. They were all young men who appeared to be from the same lower east side of Manhattan. Desperate men with few opportunities who jumped at a chance to advance through the criminal underworld. The kind of men who’d populated crime syndicates since the beginning of time.
I saw Chamita the moment the first star appeared. She was at the tree line and stood so still it was hard to see her. This had to be what she had in mind. I was surprised, as I didn’t see this new development in the story line. I assumed by the point the gangsters would take us out in the forest and shoot the lot of us. The game would be over, but at least I wouldn’t be bored any longer. Perhaps the Sandstone crew would score this one as a trial and let me back inside for another run.
“It’s time to go,” I heard a voice speak in front of me. I looked up and it was Thermon. He stood there with the three gangsters the boss indicated as the firing squad. They all carried rifles and held them across their chests.
Two of the thugs came over to us and cut the ropes that bound us together. They nudged us and we stood up. I tried to figure out if it made sense to run for it with the wolf girl in the distance. I didn’t know what she would do, however, and we all might be shot if I acted rash. The smart thing was to go along with whatever the gangsters had in mind and see if there was an opportunity.
“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be,” Thermon told me as the gangsters fanned out around us. “We’ll go back in the woods and it’ll all be over.” I could see the watch gleam in his breast pocket. If I could get to it, at least the Sandstone crew could give me some advice.
I heard Bonnie sob as the men with guns pushed us into the tree line. Soon we were walking through the brush. I couldn’t see any sign of the woman called Chamita, but she could be anywhere in this dark woods. I could hear the boots of the gangsters crunch through the brush as Thermon lead us down a path I hadn’t noticed before. The other three men seemed to know it too, which told me this wasn’t the first time the big boss had sent out an execution squad. The game designers were detailed on this scenario. Someone had done plenty of research on this time period to make it realistic.
“What if I tell you were the treasure can be found?” I heard Lester suddenly interject. It sounded like desperation, but it might work.
The crew of gangsters stopped in their boots when Thermon stuck one hand up in the air and ordered a halt. “What treasure you talking about, boy?” he demanded from Lester. “Speak up, or we’ll do you first.” I could see his eyes glare in the darkness.
“The Wellington treasure,” he tried to tell him. “The one everyone was talking about years ago. We know where it is and can lead you to it.”
“Shut up, Lester,” Howard snapped. He might have a plan of his own.
“You shut up!” Thermon snapped at Howard. He turned back to Lester. “Tell me more about this treasure.” To make the point he pulled out a revolver and shoved the point into Lester’s face.
I could tell from the look on the gangsters’ faces they knew what Lester mentioned. They might not speak much English, but the word “treasure” caught their attention. They leaned close to Lester and Thermon to hear what was about to be said.
This is why none of them saw Chamita come up from behind.
I saw her appear out of the darkness behind one of the gangsters, whose attention was directed at Lester and Thermon. He never saw her. In one quick motion, the wolf girl’s hand shot out and placed a knife in front of his neck. Before he could say a word, her other hand went over his mouth. The knife hand sliced back and blood spurted across the forest as he fell down. The gangster thrashed a few times and was silent.
His companions never noticed what happened. I saw her, but stayed silent. She’d chosen the right victim, as the man was two paces behind his companions. I decided to be quiet and see how this might play out. Neither Bonnie nor Howard saw what happened.
“Jewels,” Lester told Thermon. “Diamonds. Gold. It’s worth millions of dollars. The treasure went down in an airship that Wellington owned and we’ve tracked it here.”
“Why haven’t I ever found this airship,” Thermon demanded his gun closer to Lester’s face. “I’ve lived in these godforsaken woods all my life. I would have seen it come down.”
“Not if it happened at night,” Lester explained. “And you wouldn’t find a crashed airship if you didn’t know what to search for.”
A second gangster went down. He’d turned around when Chamita tapped him on the shoulder and met her knife in his neck. It was still a silent death. The third gat man heard his partner fall and turned around in time see her knife draw a smile across his neck too. Once more Chamita vanished into the cover of the forest.
This time Thermon knew something was wrong. “Where you guys at?” he called to the empty space next to him. “Don’t run off, we’ve got work to do!” He kept his gun leveled at us while yelling to his right.
All of which did him no good when the wolf materialized out of the darkness and clamped its teeth around the wrist of his gun hand. Thermon screamed and fired off two shots that went wild. Then the massive animal was on top of him. I heard Thermon yell as the wolf growled in triumph with its prey on the ground. I saw my pocket watch thrown through the air and grabbed it when it hit the ground.
Chamita appeared in front of us. The moon illuminated her in the furs she wore. Her black, curly hair glowed in the lunar light. If ever there was a vision of Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, it was her. We were transfixed by her sight and couldn’t move.
She looked at me and pointed up hill. “Run!” she commanded.
I didn’t need another motivator. I took off with the other three behind me. We ran through the brush by the light of the moon as we heard gunfire in the background. The camp of bootleggers realized something was wrong out in the darkness and were on the move again. All we wanted to do was get out as fast as possible.
In the distance I heard Chamita yell, “Lobo, follow!” and the wolf quit growling.
We ran up the hill as fast as we could. I didn’t know where we should stop and several times, I had to help Bonnie and Lester up from the ground. We had one advantage in that our packs were left back at the camp. It might be a problem later, but it was easier to run through the forest when you don’t have a huge pack strapped to your back. Branches tore at our faces and stones were everywhere. I worried about breaking an ankle. Even in a simulated universe, that had to be bad.
We stopped to rest at the top of a ridge. In the mountains, you are always in danger of falling down a precipice, so it’s not too smart to be running around in the dark. These weren’t Himalayan sized mountains, but they could be dangerous just the same. We caught our breath, and then looked down the hill. In the distance
, I could the light of electric lanterns converge on a central point. It seemed the gangsters found Thermon while we fled up the hill. There were a scattered series of yells and gunfire. Now they’d found the bodies of the dead gat men.
“She’s not human,” Bonnie gasped out. “She had to have killed those other men. We never saw her until she told us to run!” I didn’t want to ruin the story by telling her what I saw.
While the other three talked among themselves, I pulled out my pocket watch communicator and opened the cover. The screen was undamaged as far as I could tell in the moonlight. I pushed the stem down and it illuminated. I could see the concerned face of Rhonda.
“Are you alright?” She asked me. “Do you want us to pull you out of the game?” I knew she’d ask that one.
“No,” I responded. “Where the hell is this downed airship? It’s somewhat hard to find in the dark. Does it violate the game rules if you give me the directions to it?”
“Look to your immediate right and don't make a big deal out of it,” she told me. I turned in the direction she instructed.
Before us were the remains of the airship. I could see why no one had found it so far. It was mostly scrap metal and covered by vines. It was hard to see in the moonlight, but wouldn’t be any easier to locate in the daytime. Most of the struts used on the giant gasbag were twisted in all directions from the impact with the mountain. I couldn’t find the gondola or the propellers from the gas engines, but they had to be in that pile of junk.
Below it, overlooking a valley was the old asylum. It too was covered by vines and weeds, but I could make out the outline. We needed to get down there where safety could be found.
“Consult your logbook,” she informed me. “We’re surprised you’ve made it this far. Remember, you can hit the panic button anytime you want.”