Smith's Monthly #11

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  Nineteen-year-old Danny Hawk, his uncle, and his best friend Craig, were in Cairo to look for his missing father. Danny had witnessed the death of his only contact in Cairo, Professor Davis, because the professor had Danny’s father’s journals.

  Danny knows that the men who had killed the professor were now after him and the journals. Danny finds the journals and gets his uncle and friend to safety in an airport hotel where he tells them what happened. They decide to keep searching for Danny’s father and try to rescue him.

  Along the way, Danny and Craig find some help from a street kid named Bud and twins from South Africa who had worked with Danny’s father.

  They managed to escape the men chasing them twice so far, Danny wasn’t sure their luck would hold a third time.

  And it barely did. They finally decided to head out of Cairo.

  Beyond the headwaters of the Amazon, in the Republic of Congo, after a few more close calls, they hire a guide to take them into the jungle in search of a lost ancient city.

  And even into the jungle on the Trail of Elephants, they are followed.

  Then Danny barely escapes death when he falls through a floor in an old temple. The rest rescue him, but when they reach the bottom the men following them throw down the rope and trap them under the ancient city.

  But what they find next is amazing. An ancient council chamber.

  And they find the fourth Hydra Journal entry.

  HYDRA JOURNAL ENTRIES FOUND SO FAR

  The water flows uphill.

  The birth of a snake, the path of elephants.

  Under the teaming masses, the river becomes clear, the path muddy.

  From the highest city, power flows to the many.

  So they head for South Africa where Ed and Ernie are captured. And if it is discovered who they really are, they will be executed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  October 2, 1970

  Cape Town, South Africa.

  THE POLICEMAN RAISED his gun at Danny Hawk and shouted, “Halt!”

  Danny stopped, then carefully turned and raised his hands above his head.

  Never, in all his life, had he been so scared. He had been in a lot of rough situations over the years, and even more since his father had gone missing. But having some large man in a brown uniform point a gun at him was the most frightening.

  Around him, the huge three-story tall warehouses of the Cape Town shipping docks felt like huge child’s blocks. They blocked the sun from getting down into the narrow alleys between the buildings, but didn’t block the heat. And right now, Danny had sweat running down the side of his face. He wasn’t sure if it was from the heat, or from the fear.

  Probably both.

  If this plan didn’t work, he just might spend a lot of years in a South African prison. And right now, standing here with his hands in the air and a gun pointed at him, he wasn’t sure about anything working, let alone getting his friends, Ed and Ernie Ellis out of jail.

  For all Danny knew, he might be shot where he stood.

  “What are you doing down here?” the man asked, not lowering his gun. The guy was huge, carried the gun like it was a toy, and looked mean, with a pock-marked face and balding head.

  “Looking for my dad, sir,” Danny said, in his best British accent, following the cover story he and Craig and Bud had decided on earlier. “He was supposed to be down here. His name is Carl Conley. My name’s Carl Conley Junior.”

  Carl Conley was a name Bud had seen on an office sign near the dock headquarters. The guy either ran this entire docking facility, or was near the top. Danny had no idea if he had a son or not, but he had to take a chance that the guard wouldn’t know if the big boss did or not. After all, this was a huge docking facility.

  The guard lowered his gun instantly and smiled a sickly smile. “Oh, sorry. I was just doing my job, you understand.”

  Danny took a deep breath and lowered his hands, going on with the plan he, Bud, and Craig had come up with. “No harm done.”

  Bud had said that the best plan was the boldest plan. Right now, Danny didn’t feel so bold. He just hoped the guard didn’t notice that his hands were shaking.

  The guard put his gun away and then smiled again, stepping closer to Danny. “Any idea where your father was supposed to be?”

  “His secretary said he was going to be at a jail,” Danny said, continuing his bold lie. “I think she called it a holding area. She said it was in one of the warehouse buildings. He was coming down to see two prisoners. She gave me directions to the building, but I got lost.”

  Danny knew he was only one building over from the jail holding the twins.

  “You didn’t miss it by much, young man,” the guard said, laughing. “And don’t worry on getting lost. I still get turned around in this maze of buildings and I’ve worked here for years. Follow me.”

  He led the way between the two buildings and then to a door in the side of one warehouse that Danny had seen the twins taken through.

  Danny walked in ahead of the guard, trying to act like he belonged where he was.

  The small jail was just like an office, with two desks, a few extra guns on the wall, and a refrigerator tucked down a small hall behind one desk. The small window was barred and dirty.

  The place was stuffy, hot, and smelled stale and sickly, like some drunk had thrown up the night before.

  Another large guard sat behind the desk to the right, and through a barred window in a door behind him, Danny could see one of the twins in a windowless cell.

  “Conley is on his way down here,” the guard who had escorted Danny into the room said to his friend. “This is his kid.”

  The guard behind the desk stared at Danny, clearly not believing his story.

  Danny knew he looked rough and his clothes were slightly dirty from being in the jungle, even though they had managed to wash most of their things while on the ship from Kenya. Danny knew he didn’t look like an executive’s son.

  “Thought Conley’s kid was younger,” the guard behind the desk said, frowning and looking at Danny carefully.

  This was going too badly. This guy knew Conley.

  “I grew up,” Danny said, shrugging.

  Suddenly, a loud crash filled the room. Something large had slammed against the building near the jail door.

  Danny ducked for cover behind the desk, still playing his part, acting like he was suddenly afraid. Both guards headed for the door, guns drawn. Danny just hoped Craig and Bud stayed out of sight.

  As the two guards reached the door, another crash echoed from the next building.

  “Stay here, kid,” one guard said to Danny over his shoulder as they went outside on the run.

  The moment they went through the door, leaving it wide open, Danny headed for the twins. The keys to the jail cell were hanging on a peg beside the door and Danny grabbed them.

  Outside, one of the guards swore in pain.

  Clearly, Craig and Bud were distracting them. Danny wasn’t sure he wanted to know how. Bud had said to trust him, the guards would be distracted.

  Danny sprinted into the darker cell area.

  Ed was in the cell to the right, Ernie to the left. The place smelled of urine and vomit.

  “Danny!” Ed said, moving to the bars.

  “What are you doing here?” Ernie said.

  Both looked shocked and very happy.

  “Jailbreak,” Danny said. “But if we don’t move fast, I’m going to join you.”

  And Danny didn’t like the sounds of that at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  October 2, 1970

  Cape Town, South Africa.

  THERE WAS ANOTHER crash outside as Danny fumbled with the keys. He finally found the right one after what seemed like an eternity and opened Ed’s cell door.

  From outside, one of the guards again swore in pain. Then there was a gunshot.

  The sound froze all three of them.

  Danny’s stomach twisted even tighter at the thought of B
ud or Craig getting shot.

  “Hurry,” Ernie said as Danny again fumbled with the keys.

  “I’ll get our passports and papers,” Ed said, sprinting for the front office. “I saw where the guard put them.”

  More swearing and shouting from outside, this time a little more distant.

  Danny finally got Ernie’s door open and the two of them ran for the outer office.

  Ed slammed a drawer and held up his and Ernie’s papers with a smile. “Got them, and the money those two took from us as well.”

  At the outer door, Danny had the twins stop and he went out first, looking around. No sign of either of the guards. Just sounds of swearing from the other side of the warehouse across the paved alleyway.

  There was no one else in sight.

  The plan had been for Craig and Bud to lead the two men to the west, while Danny and the twins went in the opposite direction. They were to meet up somewhere near dock 86-B.

  Danny indicated that the twins should follow him, then at a run, they turned left and went down the side of the warehouse, then a quick left again around a corner of the building. They ran for the length of two large warehouses, turned right, ran the length of yet another, and then turned left again.

  Danny was really starting to get winded in the heat when Ed said, “In here.”

  They ducked into an area between two buildings that was stacked with dozens of piles of wooden pallets.

  “You are amazing!” Ed said breathlessly to Danny, patting him on the back.

  “We thought we were dead for sure,” Ernie said.

  “We all might be if we don’t find a good hiding place,” Danny said, looking both ways down the narrow alley between the warehouses. He was sweating so hard, it was stinging his eyes. They all were going to need something to drink pretty soon as well in this heat.

  “We can’t keep going together,” Ed said.

  Ernie nodded. “This is still South Africa. Whites and blacks can’t be together doing anything, unless the white is in charge.”

  Danny just shook his head. He understood the reality of that, but he sure hated it. Just as he hated it when people treated him differently, or put him down for his Native American heritage.

  “Where are we meeting Bud and Craig?” Ernie asked.

  “And how are we getting out of here?”

  Danny explained that he had booked them all passage on a British freighter heading for South America, but it didn’t leave port until 7 A.M. October 4th.

  “That’s two nights and a day away,” Ernie said.

  Danny nodded. He knew that, and was very worried about that as well. This was a very busy port, well-patrolled. Now that the twins had escaped, everyone would be looking for all of them. Hiding was going to be a real problem. Just getting to dock 86-B was going to be a problem. That was a good mile from where they were.

  “Here,” Ed said, pointing back at the pile of wooden pallets.

  Danny, at first, couldn’t figure out what Ed meant. This alley clearly wasn’t a good hiding place. And it was far too close to those two guards back there.

  Then Ed moved to a dolly with four wheels and a handle. There were three of them parked in the alley.

  “Pallet movers,” Ernie said to his twin brother. “Great thinking.”

  “Want to clue me in?” Danny asked.

  “Watch,” Ed said. He grabbed one machine, quickly moved it around like he had handled the thing before. It had two long blades on the front that slipped in under the bottom pallet. With a few quick pumps on a handle, Ed picked up a six foot high stack of empty pallets.

  Ernie quickly did the same thing, rolling the pallets out into the open.

  “Now, you walk behind us, pretending like you’re in charge of what we’re doing,” Ed said. “We’re taking these to dock 86-B.”

  “You’re the boss,” Ernie said firmly to Danny, looking him right in the eye. “Remember that and act that way.”

  “I hate this,” Danny said.

  Ed smiled. “This is what our parents fought against and died trying to stop.”

  “Some day it will stop,” Ernie said. “But for now, we live with it and get out of this country.”

  “Can’t be fast enough for me,” Danny said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  October 2, 1970

  Cape Town, South Africa.

  THE THREE OF them got a few odd looks from other workers along the way, but no one stopped them. Danny hated acting like he was in charge of his two friends just because of their skin color. But he tried to, and Ernie and Ed pulled the stacks of pallets carefully, slumping over like they were used to the hard work.

  Finally, as they neared the dock where the British freighter would hopefully take them out of this country, Danny heard Bud whisper from a nearby open warehouse door.

  “Here.”

  Danny and the twins glanced over to where Bud was in the dark shadows just inside a warehouse door.

  The twins quickly moved the wooden pallets over into an area that held other pallets, then the three of them went inside.

  It took a minute for Danny’s eyes to adjust. But it soon became clear that the warehouse was stacked completely full of huge crates. Some of the stacks reached clear to the tall ceiling three stories overhead.

  The air inside was cooler than outside, but not by much.

  The huge shipping doors of the warehouse were closed, and the only light came from a few high, dirty windows.

  “Is Craig all right?” Danny asked as Bud led them deeper into the darkness of the warehouse.

  “We heard shots,” Ernie said.

  “Just fine,” Craig said, stepping out of the shadows. “Can’t say that I like getting shot at by the police, though.”

  Danny patted his best friend on the shoulder. “Just think of all the stories we can tell the girls when we get home.”

  Craig laughed. “Yeah, like they’re going to believe us.”

  Danny laughed as well, very happy to see his best friend alive and well.

  “I’ve found a great place to hide,” Bud said.

  He led them, single-file, deeper into the giant stacks of crates until they were near the middle-back of the warehouse. Then Bud pointed upward.

  “We climb up there and hide on top, or inside those top crates, depending on what’s in them. We’ll know if workers start moving these things. We’ll have time to make a break for it. And guards aren’t going to climb every stack in here looking for us.”

  “Perfect,” Ed said, nodding.

  “But we’re going to need water,” Ernie said.

  Danny looked up at the tall stacks of wooden crates towering over them. He wasn’t real excited about spending the next two nights in here, but at this point, they had no choice.

  Or at least none that he could think of.

  “The next warehouse over has an office in it,” Bud said, pointing to the west wall. “I’m sure we can find water there at night, after everyone’s gone. And we have enough food to last us until we get on board the ship.”

  With that, Bud turned and started up the side of the stack of huge wooden crates like he was climbing the side of a rock mountain. It was as if Bud had spent most of his life climbing wooden crates. He didn’t miss a step or a handhold and before Danny realized it, Bud went over the top and disappeared.

  A moment later he poked his head back over the edge. “Easy. Everyone take their own stack. But these things are so close together, if we have to, we can run across the top of them.”

  Danny remembered the terror he had felt jumping from one roof to another over an alley in Cairo. He really didn’t like the idea of jumping from crate to crate over a thirty-foot drop.

  But so far, in looking for his father, he’d done a lot of things he didn’t think he’d ever do. He just hoped crate-jumping ahead of guards with guns wouldn’t turn out to be one of them.

  Continued in the next issue…

  I wrote this story back in what I call my “horror perio
d” of writing. In fact, back in that period I was nominated for a Stoker Award a few times, which is the award given out by the Horror Writers of America.

  I tend to think of this story as a mystery story instead. But honestly, it never occurred to me to send it to one of the mystery magazines.

  So finally, it sees the light of day. Yet another side of my writing.

  MARRIAGE IN SIX FLOORS

  FIRST FLOOR

  THE DRUG WEARS OFF.

  Jagger Swayne finds himself standing, arms tied behind him. Cold metal presses hard against the full length of his back.

  His jaw aches. Something soft and wet jams his mouth open, wraps around his head, and pulls the skin of his face painfully tight.

  His vision slowly clears.

  He stands in a small, dark, cement room that smells of mold and damp. It is a cold smell.

  A smell that holds years of sameness.

  The room is very small, not much larger than a closet.

  His head misses the metal ceiling by less than a foot.

  Through the dark, he can see lines of shadows on the opposite wall.

  He pushes the haze of drug back into the corners behind his eyes and tries to think.

  Jagger Swayne.

  His name is Jagger Swayne. He is from Chicago.

  Can he be crazy if he can remember his name?

  No? Clearly, he is here.

  But how?

  Susan.

  Dinner in their honeymoon suite.

  The wine.

  Her smile as she watched him drink.

  Damn it, Susan.

  If this is a stupid trick, it is not funny.

  Six Months Earlier…

  Jagger punched his finger against the up button and turned to the woman named Susan he had just met in a bar about four blocks away.

  She had long blonde hair she kept pulled back and a classic face that had only a little make-up on it because she didn’t need it. She wore a light sweater that clearly showed the lace bra under it.