by RJ Johnson
Red began to panic and run down the steep Mesa trail. He didn’t get far before he stumbled over some rocks. Kline simply shook his head and caught up to the blubbering foreman, lifting him up by his pants.
“I will allow you to experience pure, natural flight. None of that uncomfortable 767 crap.” Kline paused, “Though I must say, I believe that Virgin Atlantic really is the way God intended man to fly.”
Kline looked down, smiling cruelly at his foreman. “But I suppose for now, this will have to do.”
Kline spun the fat man around and round, again building up momentum. Red was unable to do anything but go along for the ride. The man’s strength was incredible. The faster Red spun, the more he felt like his entire body would fly apart at any moment. It was only seconds before Red blacked out that Kline released him flying into the air above Joshua Tree.
Like a rocket, Red flew into the darkening twilight sky. He felt the air flow over his face as he quickly gained altitude. After only a few terrifying moments of screaming ascent, Red found himself floating over the most beautiful nighttime desert scene below. He opened his eyes and looked at everything below him.
The setting sun in the far west had painted some vivid orange and red scenes for him to enjoy in his last moments as he plummeted back down to earth. It was the kind of vivid sunset colors that only God knew how to paint.
Below, the scraggly Joshua Trees dotted the landscape. The Mesa, once so imposing from his earlier perspective, appeared not much more than a dot on the ground. The jagged crop of mountains ringed around the valley from which Kline had thrown him, and looked so small from several thousand feet above the ground. Rising in the east, a full moon illuminated his last few looks at the desert world below.
And it was then, at the pinnacle of his flight, when Red could see the bright lights of Los Angeles in the distance, that he understood.
As gravity claimed his body once again and he began tumbling inescapably back towards the ground, Red Howell smiled. He plummeted, smiling at the pleasant life that now flashed before his eyes. It was only in those last few seconds that Red realized just how lucky he had been.
The Mesa rushed up towards him, expanding exponentially from an insignificant dot to…
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Hypertruck wheeled itself to a halt outside the entrance to Joshua Tree. Idling for a moment, the car then stopped as Scott turned it off.
“What are you gonna do?” Scott asked. Alex had been giving directions for the last few minutes, not that they needed them. The expansive white geodesic dome that covered the Mesa was visible from a few miles away.
Alex opened the door and stepped out, looking at the gigantic white dome, absentmindedly loading the clip to his pistol with 9 mm rounds.
“I’m not really sure yet,” Alex answered staring at the illuminated Mesa.
“I still can’t heal that great from a distance….” Trailing off, Alex really went through his options. “I’ve been on suicide missions before, but at least then I had a bunch of friends with some rather large guns backing me up.”
“What? I’m not backup?” Scott asked, feigning offense.
“You couldn’t ref a Peewee Football game without peeing your pants in fear.”
“Those kids were mean, all right?” Scott hotly replied.
Alex ignored Scott, “My best bet is to sneak in, find Emily, and get her out safely.”
“Then all you have to do is take out an insanely powerful billionaire with untold strength, weapons, and manpower,” Scott said sarcastically. “You really think you’re ninja enough to get all that going?”
Alex holstered the pistol in his belt and pulled the collapsed MP4 rifle from the Sheriff station arsenal from out of the rear of the Hypertruck, slapping a fresh magazine into the weapon. Sliding the action back, he made sure it was loaded and grinned at his best friend.
“Well, I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Emily felt weak. She had been screaming fruitlessly for the past fifteen minutes. No one had come to her rescue, and no one was going to come to her rescue. For the first time in her adult life, Emily wondered if she was about to die.
The door to her cave opened. The four construction-style klieg lights clicked on, blinding her once again.
“Hello?” Emily called out tentatively. “Whoever’s there, your boss already ruined the ‘Oh, is somewhere here or not?’ trick for me.”
Footsteps on the gravel approached her from behind. She felt the ropes behind her being loosened, and heard a whisper. “We’re getting outta here. Stay close.”
She turned, expecting a friendly face, but instead was greeted with the black soulless eyes of Geoffrey Tate. She screamed and tried to run away. Geoffrey smiled, enjoying her resistance.
“What part of ‘nowhere for you to go’ don’t you understand?” Geoffrey Tate said patronizingly. “You’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not!” she shrieked as she kicked and scratched at her kidnapper. She wasn’t about to go down without a fight – and hopefully, not without establishing some evidence for the CSI techs that might eventually find her body.
“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.” Tate threw her forward, withdrawing the flat-paneled needle gun that had paralyzed her earlier. A chill ran down Emily’s spine when she saw the pistol in Geoffrey’s hand. There would be a better time to fight. She wouldn’t be able to do anything if he stuck her with one of those damned needles again.
“Very well,” Emily replied haughtily as she began smoothing the wrinkles that had formed during the last few hours out of her dress. “Where are we going?”
Geoffrey extended his arm, politely showing Emily the door. She pushed it open and nearly ran into Christina. Bursting into tears, she threw herself into Emily’s arms.
“Shh,” Emily whispered to her friend. “We’ll be outta here in no time.” She continued stroking her friend’s raven black hair as her eyes shot daggers at Geoffrey Tate. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Geoffrey replied bored. “She’s just emotional. This way, please.”
Geoffrey led them down a narrow path down the Mesa, towards the gaping hole Kline’s equipment had torn into the side of the mountain only a few hours before.
Looking over her shoulder, Emily saw that they had been keeping her in an abandoned mine exploration shaft. It was a technique used in the early days of prospecting the West. Huge caverns were cut or dynamited into mountains in the hope of finding valuable veins of gold or silver. Many caverns in the area were often abandoned, most collapsing within a few months of their having been built.
Reaching the end of the path, Geoffrey stepped over several of the day workers’ dead bodies, which had been stacked outside the cavern's entrance. Geoffrey sighed. Kline’s predilection for disposing of people associated with this project would make him nervous if Geoffrey didn’t know exactly how valuable he’d become to his boss over the last day and a half.
Emily squeaked in terror as she realized what they were walking over. Christina remained silent, her eyes unmoving and her face blank to the horrific scene around them. Her mind had simply shut down, unwilling to accept the horrible reality of being kidnapped and marked for death. Completely catatonic, Christina allowed herself to be led down into the mineshaft as they stepped over the dead workmen’s bodies.
“Shouldn’t we wear a helmet or something?” Emily managed, a few yards into the freshly dug mine. Around them, a dull murmur, a sound they weren’t quite able to make out, was persistent in the air.
“I don’t think it matters much. Do you?” Geoffrey said dryly. “Keep moving.”
Geoffrey led them down deeper into the tunnel. Emily and Christina clutched each other tightly as the bright construction lights behind them began to fade out of sight. Further in the tunnel, the three of them heard the sound of running water. Geoffrey grunted and flashed his light on the wall.
“Go d
eep enough, and you’ll hit water eventually.” Tate continued walking. “Come along, now.”
Emily hesitated for a moment as she watched the water drip down the wall in front of her. It seemed to soak out from the wall trickling down the slick tunnel walls, as opposed to coming from some particular source. Emily couldn’t shake the feeling that the Mesa was bleeding.
“Hey!” Geoffrey barked, as he turned to see where Emily had gone. “Get going. Mr. Kline is waiting for you.”
Emily walked slowly towards Geoffrey, her face still defiant. “Or what? You’ll kill us?”
“There’s always this,” Geoffrey replied softly, showing the flat panel of the gun.
Frustrated, Emily spat at Geoffrey’s face, which he dodged easily. Suddenly, he was in front of her, grasping her throat.
“You don’t want to anger me.” Geoffrey said quietly. “I know Mr. Kline asked for me to deliver you to him alive and in one piece, but personally,” Geoffrey said, sucking the air in between his teeth making his words hiss in her ear, “Personally, I’d rather be done with you here and now. The man trusts my judgment; you know what that word is, right? ‘Trust’?”
Geoffrey spun Emily against the tunnel walls, bracing her against the hard rock. Stars exploded in her head as she fought to stay conscious. Enraged, she struggled against the man’s iron grip. There was no going anywhere for the moment, but still, that was no reason to let the son of a bitch win.
“Remember that word, ‘trust’?” Geoffrey was beginning to enjoy himself. Emily was completely paralyzed and within his control. The power he felt at the moment was intoxicating.
His smile turned evil, “You see, my employer trusts me implicitly, which means if I tell him you gave me problems, no matter how badly he might need you, he still trusts me to do have done the right thing with his best interests in mind.”
Geoffrey now understood why his boss allowed himself moments like this one. The power he felt was incredible. Her entire life, the whole of her continued existence was now resting in a choice that lay alone with Geoffrey in this moment. Kill her? Or deliver her to Kline? The thought of killing her, feeling her life slip away under his grip, was beginning to take over, and Tate began rationalizing the excuses he would give Kline when he arrived without her. His eyes narrowed. After losing to Alex all day, this triumph would be an incredible release.
Emily knew she didn’t have long. Tate’s grip on her throat was tightening. She needed control of this situation as soon as possible. The next words out of Tate’s mouth, however, stung more than anything physical he had done to her at that point.
“I’ll bet you trusted your little boyfriend out there to come rescue you,” Geoffrey snarled. “I’ll bet you trusted your little boyfriend to stay in love with you too.” He laughed. “Isn’t it funny? You trusted someone so much that instead of marrying you, they preferred to go off and pretend to be dead.”
Emily saw red and exploded. Suddenly, everything around her slowed. Bracing her legs against the wall, she pushed as hard as she could. Exploding off the wall, she shoved Geoffrey Tate to the ground, knocking the paralyzing needle gun out of his hands and across the tunnel floor, losing it in the darkness ahead. Using the momentum from her gymnastics off the wall, she curled into a ball and rolled safely to her feet. She whirled around, readying herself to attack, and watched as Geoffrey slowly climbed to his feet.
“So, there’s still fight in you, huh?” Geoffrey asked menacingly. “All right, then.” Geoffrey removed his bomber jacket, throwing it in the corner. His tight black shirt revealed muscles and a bright pink scar that lined his forearm. Emily’s nervous energy transformed into adrenaline, and she focused.
Smiling, Geoffrey advanced on the smaller girl. His brute strength should be enough, he reckoned, but, he was looking forward to some exercise. The frustration of losing not once, not twice, but three times in one day to Alexander McCray and his friends had tested his patience. He was a winner, and yet he’d been dealt three humiliating experiences one after the other. For now, he’d take it all out on the man’s girlfriend.
Tate jabbed the air playfully a few times in front of him, Emily dodging each punch easily. The two were testing each other, two warriors sizing each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
It was Tate that made the first move. Stepping inside her stance, he dropped and rushed for Emily’s knees. Unfortunately for him, she was too quick, and saw Tate coming. She countered by dropping to floor to Tate’s right and tripping his ankles. Falling forward, he threw up his arms, trying to protect himself, but wasn’t quick enough. The crown of his head bashed into the solid rock wall hard. Emily smiled, enjoying her victory, but there was little time to savor it. They had to get out of there and away from these two sociopaths.
Pushing herself up, Emily dashed over to Christina, who had taken refuge from the fight.
“Christina!” Emily gasped, “Come on! We’ve gotta get outta here!”
Christina didn’t respond, only raising a crooked finger, pointing to something behind Emily’s back.
“He’s back up, isn’t he?” Emily sighed. “Stay down, I’ll be right back.”
Emily flipped back on her palms into a handspring. She landed with her arms up, ready to defend. Geoffrey touched his head tenderly, examining the damage she had inflicted on him, and then just laughed.
“Lady, I outweigh you by a hundred pounds. Do you really wanna take me on just because you got in one lucky shot?”
“Let’s find out how lucky that was.” Emily hissed back.
It was Emily that attacked this time. She flew at Tate, battering him with a flurry of arms, elbows, knees, feet, and anything else she had available. The combinations flew fast and furious, striking Geoffrey several times before he was able to even put up a defense.
Surprised at her onslaught, Geoffrey tried to fight back, but was quickly overwhelmed by the fists of fury thrown at him. The anger unleashed from the little brunette ball of energy was kicking his ass all over the mineshaft. For that moment, Emily was winning, kicking the hell out of a man three times her size. She pushed Geoffrey up, ready to finish him.
Holding her palm flat, Emily threw it with all her might into Geoffrey’s nose. He cried out as his nose flattened, an audible crack sounding in the cramped tunnel walls. Crying out in rage, Tate forced himself forward, grabbing Emily by her waist, lifting her above his head like a pro wrestler and throwing her against the tunnel wall opposite him.
She landed against the wall with a sickening thump. Crumbling to a heap to the ground below, Emily struggled to catch her breath through the tears.
She lost. She was about to die, but what the hell; she had put up a good fight. That’s all anyone could have asked from her. Tears blurred her vision as she watched Geoffrey Tate stand over her, his face twisted in rage, blood pouring down his face. She smiled, seeing him so frustrated, so defeated. Yes, she had lost the fight, but she had damn sure won the war.
“I’ll tell your boyfriend hello.” Geoffrey snarled. He reached down, ready to snap Emily’s neck, when he felt a sharp sting slap the back of his own neck.
“What the…?” Geoffrey only managed to turn around halfway when he saw the little Asian girl, the one who had never given him any trouble, pointing the neurotoxin gun at him. Her face, once streaked with dirt and tears, was now twisted in determination. It was her eyes that were the most striking transformation; gone was the terror, totally absent of the thousand yard stare she had since arriving at the Mesa. Her eyes blazed with fire as she pulled the trigger several more times, sending a swarm of paralyzing needles into his chest.
Geoffrey Tate didn’t even feel it when he hit the ground. He watched, helpless in his own body, as the signals between his nerves in his spinal cord began to shut down.
Emily moaned and lay there, her vision blurry from the knock to her head. Christina moved towards her, crouching as she approached, listening for any possible movement in the tunnel.
“Em?” Christina ask
ed her friend. “You ok?”
“Remember that night you and I decided to go to Vegas on the spot, and we spent the weekend drinking?” Emily said as she weakly raised her body from the floor. “It’s kinda like that.”
Christina laughed in relief. If Emily was joking, she was OK.
“By the way, nicely done playing possum all night. That probably saved our lives,” Emily said as she hugged her friend fiercely. “How’d you think of that?”
“The smart thing to do is to wait for your enemy to make a mistake,” Christina replied quickly.
“Where’d you learn that? The Art of War or something?” Emily asked.
“Racist.” Christina playfully returned. “You think cause I’m Asian, it means I read Sun Tzu?”
“There’s some good advice in there, you know. Like knowing when to get the hell outta Dodge.” Emily said, her faculties beginning to return to her. The dull roar of a headache raged in the left side of her head, where she had collided with the rock wall. Emily reckoned she had a concussion, at the very least, but that was survivable for now.
“Which way?” Emily asked her friend. She tried to stand up, but found it too difficult at first. Christina caught her, supporting her arms.
“Easy,” Christina cautioned. “It’s this way.”
Christina raised her friend up and over her shoulder as she walked them both up towards the tunnel mouth. They could feel the cool nighttime breeze blowing down. They were close.
A small cough sounded behind them. Emily and Christina glanced over their shoulders, and saw the Devil himself.
Kline smirked at the pair. He shook his head. “I’m afraid you can’t leave yet, ladies. There’s something I need you for.”
“Run!” Emily yelled at Christina. “Run! Get help, now!” Emily grabbed the needle gun out of Christina’s hands and pushed her up towards the cavern’s mouth.
“Em…” Christina’s eyes pleaded with her friend, but Emily ignored them as she turned towards the advancing Kline.