The first thing that caught Patty’s attention was the line of RV trailers that stretched out across what must’ve been a thousand feet of lakeshore on the most exclusive lake in the state. The late afternoon sun danced across the blue water, and the sight of it made Patty homesick. She looked away and focused on the rectangular house which was large, yet homey and unobtrusive. There were tables set out on the front lawn, and a party seemed to be in progress.
“Oh, my,” said Sonya, pointing at an aging pair of bodybuilders. Both were in incredible shape and both were dressed in thong-type bathing suits.
Hogan turned his head and slammed on the brakes. He rolled down the passenger side window of the Hummer and barked at the men to put on some clothes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve warned these guys a thousand times, no thongs. For crying out loud, I’ve got a fourteen year-old daughter.”
Patty and Sonya exchanged a look and a giggle. Patty had recognized both men, or so she thought. Sunset Sam was her age, if not older. His hair was still platinum blonde, and he swung his hips confidently with each step he took. She remembered the other wrestler as Rock-n-Roll Zack Loomis by his wild brown hair, outrageous sunglasses, and the large boom box radio he carried on his shoulder. Long ago, Ken had been a big fan of professional wrestling, and Patty had been forced to watch her fair share. Seeing Loomis made her realize that she never thought about what happened to these men when their careers were over.
Hogan parked the Hummer in front of the garage and switched off the engine. “Some of these guys are a little rough,” he said, scratching his chin. “I hope you understand that; not that you have anything to worry about, they’re all really good guys. They’re just a little different, that’s all.”
“Oh, my God, Patty,” Sonya said. “Look at the dwarfs.”
“Little people,” corrected Hogan, gruffly. “Don’t ever call them dwarfs. Those guys could wrap you up like a pretzel. I’ve seen them do it. They’re some of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
There were four of the little people waiting outside of the Hummer when they opened the doors, two men and two women, all roughly the same age as Patty. They rushed to her side of the vehicle, and one of the women took her by the hand.
“What’s up?” asked Hogan, rushing around the Hummer with Sonya behind him.
“We want Mrs. Dahlgren to see what we’ve been working on. Come on, Jessie. I think you’ll like it.”
“Please, call me Patty.”
“Hold it,” Hogan said, hunkering down with his arms outstretched. “Let me introduce you guys, first. Patty, Sonya, these are the Mario Brothers, Mike and Joey. And these lovely ladies are their wives, Sara and Sue.”
“We’re brothers,” Mike Mario said.
“And we’re sisters,” added Sara, whom Patty assumed to be his wife.
Patty leaned over and shook each of their hands. She had never met grown adults their size before, and she hoped it didn’t show. The four were dressed in one-piece jumpers that were obviously homespun, the men in blue and the women in red. They all looked at Patty as if she was their queen, and it nearly took her breath away. Once again, Sara Mario took her by the hand and motioned her into the garage. “You’re going to like this,” the stout, little woman said in her high-pitched, childlike voice. “At least, we hope you like it. I hope you’re not mad, Jessie. We borrowed some of your things.”
“I could never get angry with you, gorgeous,” Hogan said.
“Watch it,” Mike Mario said, making a fist and raising it at their host. “That’s my gal.”
Hogan smiled and held his hands up, defensively. “Sorry champ,” he said. “Okay, let’s get in there and see what you guys have been up to.”
Patty and Sonya exchanged a smile and a shrug as they were led out of the sun and into the relative cool of the garage. Patty’s eyes grew large, and she gasped. The garage was festooned with no fewer than twenty hanging banners that all read: Dahlgren/Logan the People’s Party. The bold letters were red and blue, impeccably airbrushed on the white banners. Spread out on a long folding table was an assembly line, where the group was now making lawn signs. Patty could see at least a hundred of the completed signs leaning up against a workbench. “Oh, dear,” Patty said. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“Holy shit,” muttered Hogan. “Where did you get all of this stuff?”
“We had the banners and poster board,” Joey Mario said, beaming. “We borrowed the stakes and the paint. Sara has been making our own wrestling banners for years, and for some reason, we hung onto these through the crash. We wanted Patty to have them.”
“How sweet is that?” asked Sonya. “What a lovely thing to do.”
“Where’s Jimmy?” asked Sue Mario, a dreamy smile stretched across her face. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
Joey narrowed his eyes at his wife and pointed at her.
“You must’ve been working on this all day,” Hogan said, bending down to look at one of the signs. “Wow, these look professionally made.”
“They were professionally made,” corrected Sara.
Just then, the service door from the house opened up, and a blonde-haired woman stuck her head out. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Wendy Hogan, Jessie’s wife. I’m so glad to meet you.”
“Come on out here, honey,” Hogan said, beckoning his wife out the door. “Have you seen what the Marios have been working on?”
“I have,” Wendy said with a wide grin. “They’ve got it down to an art.”
“Sara has it down to an art,” Mike Mario said, taking his wife by the back of her neck and quickly stealing a kiss.
Strange as it was, Patty suddenly felt at home. She could feel her apprehensions slipping away as her faith seemed to rush back into her body. Ken would be all right; she could feel it. She and Sonya would be fine right where they were, because this was where they were supposed to be. The next few hours were filled with good food and excellent conversation. Patty lost count at thirty new faces, many of which she recognized from their days inside the ring. Patty sometimes surprised them by saying their names before being introduced. To these men, seemingly forgotten by everyone but themselves, that recognition won her their undying loyalty.
Chapter 42
“I have a very strict gun control policy: if there's a gun around, I want to be in control of it.” ~ Clint Eastwood
Ken sat in silent blackness and tried to steel himself against what was to come. Time seemed to stand still as he waited for the inevitable explosion, and his skin crawled because of it. “You’re a dirty bastard,” he cursed. “Turn the damn lights on!”
The muzzle flash precipitated the blast by barely a microsecond, and suddenly the rubber bullet struck him in the chest with such force it sent his chair flying backward. Ken roared in pain and frustrated anger. The report echoed inside the room for what seemed like an eternity. Ken struggled against the cuffs, shaking his head with animal-like fury. His chest burned, and his breaths came in heated gasps.
“How did you like that?” Mars whispered from barely inches away.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” spat Ken.
“Oh, you have no idea. We can play this little game until Lowell gets back. Doesn’t that just give you a warm fuzzy? You and me, Ken, with a couple of days all to ourselves, and we are going to party!”
Ken roared like a lion as he continued to struggle. A hand brushed against his cheek and nearly drove Ken over the edge in screaming humility. “Get your stinking hands off me!” he bellowed.
“But I thought you and me were buddies.”
Suddenly, Ken felt a hand take him by the shirt collar and slowly begin to spin him in looping circles. When Ken felt as if he were about to be sick, Mars released him and sent his desk chair flying across the room. There was a lingering silence before the gun barked again and a bullet struck him midway down his right shin. Ken gritted his teeth against the pain, but almost worse than the pain was the overwhelming urge to c
lutch where it hurt. His ears rang, his wrists bled and Ken was sure he was about to lose his mind.
“Go ahead, man,” snickered Mars. “You can let it out. I won’t hold it against you. I’ve seen bigger men than you break down and cry like little babies. C’mon Ken. You know you want to.”
“Not in this lifetime,” Ken hissed.
“Oh, you’re so wrong about that. You’ll cry long before we’re finished playing this game. You’ll cry until your tears are dried up, and then you’ll beg me to kill you. Trust me, dude, I’ve done this before and in the end, you’re all the same. You may think you’re strong, but I’m going to prove to you that you’re nothing more than a weak, sniveling sissy. You’re probably going to hate me for it, but that’s the price of being an educator.”
Chapter 43
“Nobody gets justice. People only get good luck or bad luck.” ~ Orson Welles
“Where is he?” Julie asked, sitting on top of Pluto’s chest and pointing at him with the tip of the filler nozzle. “You don’t want to lie to me.”
Jimmy felt as if he could read the old hippie’s mind. His eyes darted back and forth as he searched for an escape, but there would be none, not today. “I have a bomb shelter,” he finally wheezed. “I can take you there.”
“He’d better be in one piece,” hissed Julie. “Or you’ll be very sorry. Do we understand each other?”
“Perfectly.”
The drive out to Pluto’s underground hideaway took nearly forty minutes. The site itself was unremarkable, except for its proximity to the charred ruins of the resort that had been renamed Utopia. The bomb shelter entrance was concealed by a derelict pole building, well off the beaten path, rusty orange and battered by the elements. Jimmy thought that they were within a mile of Utopia, which would explain how the men had survived the harsh winter. Pluto, escorted by Julie, led them to a padlocked service door. He unlocked the door, turned on some overhead lights and led them inside. The pole building was roughly sixty feet long and maybe half that in width. The inside of the shed stank of rust and rot, and the temperature inside, Jimmy felt, was nearly unbearable. Cobwebs hung from every imaginable surface. There was an overhead door on the far end, and Jimmy could see where Pluto had kept his car parked.
“The elevator is just beyond that wall,” Pluto said, pointing at what Jimmy had assumed was an outside wall. “There is a switch on the floor over there by that fuel can.”
“I don’t see any switch,” Bill said, from just inside the service door and a good thirty feet from where Pluto was indicating.
Jimmy ignored Bill and made his way over to the wall. After a long moment, he finally found an old toggle switch embedded into one of the rotting wooden planks that served as a floor. Jimmy tripped the switch, and an unseen electric motor began to hum. A second later, a ten-foot section of the wall began to shake and slowly lifted up, revealing a large freight elevator.
“The mine is nearly two miles deep,” Pluto said. “It came along with the resort.”
“Ain’t that just peachy?” Jimmy asked, making his way over to the elevator. “Who really gives a crap? I just want to know how far down that hole our friend is.”
“They’re all the way down at the bottom. You’ll need me to run the elevator,” protested Pluto. “It’s a little tricky.”
“Like hell we will,” Julie said. “I’m sure we can figure it out on our own. You’ll be staying up here with Pops and Sheldon. Guys, if we’re not back up here in an hour, I want you to start cutting off his fingers and toes.”
“What about his nose?” Sheldon asked.
“You do what you want with him,” Julie said. “Come on Bill, move it.”
“What do you need me for?” Bill asked, still standing at the open door. “I probably won’t be much help with only having one leg.”
Julie scowled and pointed at Bill with such fury that he simply nodded and began limping over to join Jimmy at the elevator.
“Have it your way,” Pluto said, dismissively. “The elevator sticks in a few places. You’ll need to bang on the panel to start it up again.
Jimmy raised the wooden gate to the elevator and studied the controls as Bill limped inside to join him. He stood against the far corner of the elevator and held his hands on the side rails for support. “I don’t know what you guys need me for,” he grumbled, under his breath. “Julie isn’t the boss of me.”
Jimmy stared at Bill but said nothing as Julie stepped inside and pulled down the wooden gate. She studied the clam-style steel doors and pulled down on a braided rope cord; now they were swallowed up inside the large elevator car.
Jimmy fumbled at the controls until he found the light switch. Pale yellow light fell from a single bulb that hung above Jimmy on a wire. Julie said nothing as she walked over to join him at the controls. She wrapped an arm around his middle as he pressed the down button, and the elevator lurched and slowly began its descent. Bill stared at them, almost challenging them with his glare. Julie took the bait.
“We have no idea of what to expect down there,” Julie said. “I don’t care how you feel about it. We need you, and so does Ken.”
Bill began to argue; Jimmy could see it in his eyes. He watched as Julie’s words suddenly registered with him, and Bill’s expression changed from sour to cocky. “Of course you need me,” he said. “Everybody knows that.”
Jimmy could feel Julie’s fingernails biting into his hip as she nodded her head. “That’s right,” she said. “Everyone knows that.”
The elevator seemed to pick up speed as they descended farther down into the shaft. Jimmy wondered how many years it had taken to dig the old mine and how long ago it had been abandoned. Most of the area iron ore mines were of the pit variety, and Jimmy had even visited some of the largest ones with Ken and Patty. That all seemed like a hundred years ago, and the memory made his heart ache for the past.
“We’re going to need a plan,” Bill said. “What do we do if Mars is waiting for us at the bottom with a gun? He’ll shoot us like fish in a barrel.”
“That’s a chance that I’m willing to take,” replied Julie. “When this thing hits the bottom floor, I’m going to throw open the doors and we charge him, all three of us. Ken’s life depends on us taking him out.”
“What if we do capture Mars?” asked Bill. “What do we do with him?”
“We’re not going to capture him,” snapped Julie. “I’m going to kill him, and don’t either of you try to stop me.”
“How are you going to kill him? We don’t even have a gun or nothin’.”
“Don’t you worry about that. We just have to take him down, and I’ll figure the rest out. I want him to die slow. I want him to suffer for what he’s done.”
The elevator car suddenly began to shudder and quickly lurched to a stop. Jimmy looked at the control panel and began tapping on it. When nothing happened, he curled his fingers into a fist and he pounded lightly on the panel. The elevator sprang to life on the fifth rap. “That was creepy,” Jimmy said, taking Julie into his arms and holding her close.
“I’d go crazy if we got stuck in here,” Bill said, his face drained of color. “I’m claustrophobic.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” said Julie. “You’re like a walking phobia.”
“A lot of people are claustrophobic, not just me. Isn’t that right, Jimmy?”
Jimmy began to speak when the car began to shudder again and stuttered to a halt. He quickly began to bang on the control panel and much to his horror, the light suddenly winked out, leaving them in total blackness.
“Turn it back on!” ordered Bill, his voice full of panic. “Turn it back on!”
Jimmy ran his fingertips over the control panel as he tried to remember where the light switch had been. As Bill continued pleading for him to restore the light, Jimmy found the switch and toyed with it. The bulb flickered and finally returned to life. Jimmy sighed with relief and began rapping on the bottom of the panel. A moment later, the elevator began trundli
ng its way back into the dark depths of the mineshaft.
“That was a little spooky,” Julie said, hugging Jimmy tightly around his middle.
“You can say that again,” Bill said, from bare inches away. “I’m going to stay here with you guys.”
Julie groaned under her breath, but said nothing as they continued their slow fall down into the unknown.
Chapter 44
“Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open.” ~ John Barrymore
Ken felt the floor vibrate which signaled the return of the elevator. His nerves shredded and his body racked with pain, he was suddenly filled with hope. There was another explosion, and Ken was flung forward by a rubber bullet striking him in the back, high up and just to the left of his spine. He groaned at the pain.
“What the hell is he doing back so soon?” Mars asked.
A moment later, the lights were back on and Ken watched as Mars dart around the room, first stashing the night vision goggles, then the gun and ammunition. He jogged around the room with a can of air freshener, spraying it liberally to disguise the pungent smell of burnt gunpowder. Ken said nothing as he watched. He had lost count how many times he’d been shot and felt on the verge of passing out.
“Don’t you dare tell Lowell about our little party,” Mars said, suddenly standing right behind him. “Do you understand me?”
Ken gritted his teeth but said nothing. He felt hands grab him by the neck and roughly begin to choke him. “I understand!” Ken croaked, fighting to catch a breath.
“Good,” grunted Mars, slowly releasing his grip. He walked over to the table and sat down, picking up a book as he did so.
Ken listened as the heavy elevator groaned to a stop just outside the door. He was so thankful, he felt as if he’d kiss Lowell for coming back down to save him. He had already decided to tell him everything just as soon as he walked through the door. Mars sat with his back to the door with his nose in the book, looking innocent and unassuming.
Desperate Times Three - Revolution Page 24