by Riley Moreno
Eman had grass hedges along both sides of his driveway, and then a small up-hill of concrete and grass shaped like a formula one race-course. It was posh enough for a man who loved money. And it was a recluse from all the other homes that were downhill. He was home when Henny reached.
“We’re going to have you knock on that door, Joel. And just tell him that you did what you had to. Understood?”
“He’ll feel bad. I know he will. He didn’t want to –”
“Actions speak louder than words. And his actions tell me that he’s thinking of number one before anybody else. I’m done talking about this. Park outside the main gates and let’s make our way inside.”
“Henny, think about what you’re doing here man?”
“I am. I’m going to bring back Lee Coil.”
...
Darren held out his hand for Lee to hold onto as she reaches the top. Darren gives her that final boost with a yank of that wrist and up she was, back on top and looking down to see how far she fell. Not as steep as she thought. Darren unties the rope from the rock and places it back into his rucksack before he leads the way out of that dangerous path with her hand inside his own.
When they slowly make their way out where the steps ascend to the outside, Darren still seems to think that Lee needs her hand held. “Can I have that back yet?”
“Shit.” Darren lets go, embarrassed. “You seemed comfortable?”
“I was. Back there I did ... um ... the machinery.”
“Uh ... yeah.” Darren’s scanning all of Lee but not the direction for the machinery.
“Something on my face?”
“No.” He drops his head and lids, “Fuck it. I missed you. And ... it’s a little overwhelming to think how long we’ve been away from each other. Was hoping to just see if you were ok before we go back into that warzone. Have a little moment to let you know that everything is going to be ok. I ... this isn’t like me, you know that. But out here ... it’s shown me what’s necessary to do.”
“We get out. That’s what’s necessary.” Lee takes Darren’s hand and caresses his fingers. “I don’t usually do that. But I can see how hard that was for you to say. And I think you still want to tell me more?”
“I do. But you’re Lee Coil. And work is more important.” Saying that Darren heads to the direction of the machinery. And Lee stands there mesmerized at how catty that sounded without it meaning to be. And that tickles her eyes but created no tears was harming her equilibrium.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Darren was using the flashlight to light the semi-darkened way. “What I meant was –”
“Let’s talk about work.” Lee wants no more emotions in the way. They were messy and clouded all sense of a person from being able to perform the right equation. And time was against them now.
Whether Darren was hurt by that was neither here or there for Lee. But he took the hint and kept quiet with a frown, making sure that their route was nicely covered, and no mishaps would befall upon them. A few times they slip and Darren reaches out and holds her close, to avoid her getting hurt.
But they soon come upon the machinery, like a large printing press inside of a cube with a conveyor belt that travels through a small squared-box, that travels down into a hole on the outside of it. Lee runs to see what is down there, and she is eager to snapshot the currency that weirdly has the resemblance to the aluminum of the Japanese Yen but was stodgier and heavier. The color was a very bleached-out peach, with a face upon there that made her laugh, “Darren, it’s Shaka.”
Darren was already beside her gazing down, “yeah, I got a glimpse of that handsome mug upon there. Only a few though. I guess they haven’t got around to certifying his face fully. Haven’t been able to get down there. But there must be millions.” And there were millions of coins with colors like a gravel-grey and bronze.
Lee was snapping away at the cube. “To think that the printing press needs minerals.” She was looking for a way inside and found that it was a trick of the eye, when she slid a section that was pushed back a little and it opened. “Open sesame.” She was taking pictures of the machinery while Darren comes inside to see how it works.
“Should we power it on?”
“No. I think we need to be leaving here soon. I don’t like it down here after spending a few nights unwillingly.”
“There are a few suitcases.” Darren goes over to them with the first three empty with nothing inside. The fourth wouldn’t open. “I got a closed case, Lee.”
“Case!” Lee remembers she stole one. It can’t be that one. “Did you see a case when you came to search for me?”
“No. And there was none at the bottom either.”
“It must’ve fallen into the water. Ok. I think I’ve gotten some good ones for Mark and Saul to use. Let’s get out of here.”
“What about down there? We need to get that image out. It would be a headliner. Not that I’m looking to get one.”
“I’m thin enough to fit through that hole.” Darren didn’t argue as he helps to lower Lee down while holding onto the camera. The notes were piled up high, so she hopes the bundle could sustain her fall. Darren lets her drop after she said, “let go!” She fell and landed on the notes that weren’t comfortable at all.
“Darren, throw down your gun –”
“Why?” Darren tries to stick his head down and see.
“There are people down here ... workers.” And Lee was staring at two men shorter than her with mushroom top hairstyles that were richly black and full of dandruff. They had dry legs, lips, skin, and were highly dehydrated. Their hands were covered in dye from the money and they smelt of bronze coins.
Lee sees equipment that could be used to signify a signature, hot foil stamping, seals, plastic, stitching, and the image of Shaka with the top half of his suit visible for the note. And most of it was handmade by these two men, who were likely on overtime. “Do you speak English?”
The pair nod. “We speak this.”
“Ok. What are you doing down here?” Lee holds off the gun from Darren who wants to pass it to her.
“Work. We work and make money-money.”
“Ok. Alone. Are you both alone working here?”
“Yes. No officer come now. Later. When strike is done for today.”
“Why you not strike?”
“Family. Must feed family. We brothers.” The men seem willing to spill it all. But Lee wants to get them out of here.
“Come with me now. We leave and go back to Shanti town.”
“They will not like this. Money we must earn.”
“I’m officer too. I am doing my job and shutting all this down. Making it possible for you to not work a job like this anymore. You understand. I’m here to shut this all down.”
“You police, like Hona?”
Lee had long forgotten about Hona, although Angelina was close by in her mind now. She hopes they were doing fine wherever they were. “Yes. I police like Hona.”
The brothers were frightened to leave. And when Lee got out her camera, they fell to the floor, “no trouble. We need money. We know illegal. Currency no good here. Low interest. We sorry. No work, no more.”
“It’s only a camera.” Lee took their picture and then went over to show them. “For job back home. I want world to see this.” The men got up and had a nosey. They nod and understand.
“Take more.” One of the men gets it. “Camila ... she take picture down here.”
Lee listened intently. “Camila was down here?” She said it loud enough for Darren to hear.
“Yes, yes, often. She come and do story. But men she interview, were killed. And we had to help her escape out of here because she good person. Want to help people of Torbelli.”
“I thought they kidnapped here?”
“No. No. They took picture... beat her...shoot her face, but we got her away. They say ... we sell lies, make them think we have her. She dies out there anyways. But we know where Camila is. She alive. I take. You
come. I take you to her.”
Lee can’t believe what she’s hearing. And Darren now comes down that hole even if he’s a little chunkier, but he manages to get down and the men greet him as if they knew he was there. “Camila, they have her hidden somewhere.”
“I heard. But one of us needs to get back and deliver these pictures to Mark.”
Lee hands Darren the camera. “You go. I’ll bring Camila back. She was always writing good columns on my cases.”
Darren wanted a little privacy to say what he needed to next, “I’m not leaving you out there alone.”
Lee pats Darren on the cheek as if to say stop that nonsense please. “Are you serious? I’m Lee Coil. Not Lee Webb.”
“We never got around to that.” That was no joke. Darren was real. And the kiss that comes with a peck on her lips is electrifying, like her hair experiencing an electric shock. Her lips quiver and she wants him to kiss her again. He does. And then the two lock eyes and Darren takes her arms, but she will not allow the hug to come. Not yet. It was enough he had answered the question of what kissing him would be like. Now she was sure that his embrace would be a new encounter that will never forget. The longing. The need. The greed. The restraint. All of that was there in that gentle kiss. And Lee was mending and hoping that it would not be the last.
Darren knew she was challenging her passions. And it warms him. But he was the one who got things moving this time and let go of her forearms. He asks the men for a way back to the top. They said for both to come with them ... and Darren, who now had the camera, took photos of everything in the room including the equipment and men that pose.
Then with Lee, they left through a tunnel that was never ending and got denser and more claustrophobic as they neared a very weak step ladder. The brothers pointed up, and that Darren should go first as he was the heaviest from the three. And he did, trying not to let his large feet break the steps. Soon he was up, then Lee and then the brothers with the younger looking one next.
“I brought Mark’s bike. How to get back to guzmania flowers?”
The men take him by the arm and lead him in the right way. Lee watches as they point their index finger back south, and Darren nods and says a quick, “thank you.”
Lee comes over to him. “Be careful. We’re no longer welcome.”
“Same for you.” Darren gives her a peck and Lee reciprocates positively. “I ...
Darren says; “I ...” –
“Officers for Alabastor. We must go!” They grab Lee’s wrist and squander off in the opposite direction than the one Darren takes. Darren tries looking for the officers until he spots them. Sparing no time to dally around with a camera that needs to be given to Bennie, he fires shots at the men, and it ricochets on the barks and causes them to dip-and-then-rise to see where it comes from. But Darren is already zooming past them before they are ready to reach out and grab him.
They have machetes instead of guns, which means they swipe the air and Darren turns around and shoots at the blades they use in time to cover their eyes. A lucky block from the two officers, who are now trying to keep up with Darren, who was the fastest short distance runner in his school when he was sixteen.
He fires behind, and they dip-run-dip-run-dip-run-dip – and move to the side, making sure they cross over each other and keep up as Darren jumps over many rocks that could do his foot in. But he knows the flowers are a mile off yet, and there might be more of those men at the front. Darren spins around to face the running men. They come to a sudden stop and do the sway with the machete: one has it in the right hand, the other has it in his left. They don’t move in, they wait to see what he will do. “I don’t want trouble. I’m here to stop all this. You men who work for Alabastor, if you let me go, I can get this back and spread the news further. But bringing me to him won’t win this fight.”
“Give me camera. And we will let you go.”
“No. This camera belongs to me. My property.”
“You have come from underground. That means you have pictures Alabastor cannot have people seeing. Give to me and we will spare your life.”
“I’ll shoot you both dead. I will.”
“We have your bike. Long way back. Tiresome. We trade bike for camera.” But these two officers with faces longer than an orangutan, seem to think Darren is a jokester. He needs the bullets. He won’t waste them.
“Come get me then”. It’s a do or die. No more running and then being captured. He was a good fighter. Was able to disarm weapons. Not machetes, but these men keep hold and Darren knows it’s silly to throw away his gun. He’ll have to make do with the small knife he has, as he tucks the gun into his pocket and draws the pen knife.
Darren holds it high enough to see where he can throw it. An aim to the eye. Of course. He has a good chance. He chucks, and it directly hits the man on the left in his iris, “Arghhhhhhhh!” The machete falls from his hand as the pen knife is lodged in that eye. Darren tackles the man to the floor and raises his hands into a ball that he brings down fiercely and pummels the man in the face: watching as he bounces up-and-down and can’t take it anymore.
Then Darren takes the pen knife out and directs it at the other officer, who’s timider in appearance.
The machete adds those brownie points as the man on the floor is yelling, “Argh! Argh! Argh!” Trying to protect his eye and crawling closer to a tree to try and get some tissue out to stop the bleeding. Darren holds the pen knife up again, but the officer comes for him instead of waiting, so he doesn’t have a chance to throw it. The machete swings for the waist and Darren jumps back and then to the side before slashing the man’s arm who retaliates with another slash. Darren leans back in time and then ducks... jabs at the man’s leg, who stutters and yelps at the two direct hits.
The man continues to come for Darren; he chops down once...twice...three times... and Darren shimmies to he left, then the right, then the left again and that was to close! Way to close! But an opening comes, and Darren keeps the man’s elbow high as he headbutts the lip and then goes for the neck with his other hand: thrashing him from side-to-side and scrunching that already ugly face into a crushed frog. Darren then starts to use his power and forces the man’s head down whilst still struggling with the resistance of the arm and machete.
Darren is trying to get him to tumble. And he catches a glimpse of the other officer trying to crawl over and get his machete. His eye is giving him problems and he’s in plenty of pain.
Darren knees the man in the gut. He gets winded but Darren does it again – and then he goes all Tasmanian crazy on the guy and gives him one after the other; knee-knee-knee-knee and more knee-knee-knee-knee-knee, until the guy is wheezing with his mouth open like a fish needing gills. And that arm can’t do the math anymore so Darren makes him drop that machete, picks it up, and runs over to eliminate the other from the one-eyed-fool.
Then Darren leaves them be and heads back into the direction of the guzmania. He’s already late and he needs to make up for the lost time.
...
These two brothers keep saying, “Camp not far. Camp not far.” And she wishes they would stop because it prolongs the run that has gone on for the past fifteen minutes. More a jog. But she’s tired just the same and wants to rest again. She wonders how Darren is after those officers show up? But soon her attention turns to the camp that really is close by. And Lee wonders how Camila could hide here when it’s so close to the facility underground?
She thinks on that later as the people here seem friendly enough. They are mainly women, and the men all look like these brothers; tall, cheekbones pointy because food is scarce, very dark-set of eyes that have no revelation of color, and the women are fuller and plum in face and body confidence. They all seem eager to get her to the same spot. And it’s one tent behind a campfire that has burnt out.
Lee is anticipating that it’s the wrong woman. After all this time, Camila must be dead. She had rested with that as a reality and it wasn’t so hard to accept. Camila had
done well. Brought awareness on a story that will no doubt be a major issue. And that’s something to be proud of when you’re long gone. Lee holds no hope. She bares no grudges if these people are taking her on a wild goose chase.
It’s too odd. Too close. And in no manner can Camila be so near and... But when they open the tent door and leave her alone, Lee realizes that these people have got it right: Camila is alive. And she’s ready to make a speech.
Chapter 11
Henny had Joel knock on that door. And when Eman opened it up, “he wasn’t home.”
“Henny is always home. Go back and wait until morning.”
“I can’t go through with it, Eman. He’s an old friend.”
“I said not to kill him. Just shoot him in the shoulder. I’m trying to keep that son-of-a-bitch alive. Ain’t he– “
Henny pushes Joel inside the house and the gun is pointed at the temple of Eman. “I guess Joel was telling the truth. You don’t want to kill me?”
“Of course, I fucking don’t!” Henny shuts the door with the gun still at Eman. “But they do. And they will. They wanted to blow up your house with your wife and kid inside. It’s all pear-shaped. They’re scared of what to do. They want blood. And they’re killing a ton of people out there.”
“I hear plans to blow up the airport –”
“The rebels want to. To trap the Americans and shoot them. It’s bad out there.” Eman was watching the news live and it was going off in the living room, which was swanky with the beige leather sofas that were indulgent to look at. And the dining table was shaped like the globe with glossy seats that took on the image of a cut-out Italy as a boot. Then the rug, the painting of a sunset, and the large windows and curtain adds to some of the décor in the room. Eman was living well inside here.
The TV was a flat screen on the wall over the fireplace that was electric. Henny had forgotten himself when he saw what was happening in Torbelli. It was a warzone, with rebels and inhabitants fighting those who worked for Alabastor. And the one who was feeding this footage was Mark, who was streaming it to an account that was untraceable for the N.O.