To Curious Heights

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To Curious Heights Page 13

by Sean McGowan

Chapter 13:

  Harold’s Fall

  Harold awoke on a deck at the bow of a small yacht speeding through Lake Ignotus. He and his four friends, who were still unconscious, were all tied up at the torso with rope. Lorne sat on a bench at the side and watched over them. He held his baseball cap at his lap and tapped it on his knee.

  Harold blinked repeatedly as the image came into focus, “Where in the world...”

  Lorne smiled. “Last one out and the first one awake... It means you’re the most driven.”

  “Does it?”

  “I don’t know. I just made that up.”

  “Where are you taking us?”

  “Base numero uno.”

  Harold looked ahead and saw two islands—a big one and a small one—under the moonlight. He looked at his captor. “Why do you do this, Lorne?”

  “Define ‘this.’”

  “Stealing things. Helping gangs. Kidnapping us. All of it.”

  Lorne shrugged. “Never bothered to stop and think about it. I suppose they each have their own answer.”

  “I’ve got a better question, then.”

  “Hit me.”

  “How do you do all of this? I mean, how do you get away with it?”

  “Oh, that’s simple. We’re all just a bunch of nice, well-mannered kids. Nobody suspects us.”

  Samson woke up and looked around. “What the crap?!”

  Lorne waved. “Morning, Sunshine.”

  “It’s not morning,” said Samson.

  Lorne looked at the stars. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Samson.

  “To our hideout.”

  “Why?”

  “We gotta pick up some things... And drop you off.”

  Harold shuddered “You’re going to strand us on an island?!”

  “Not forever,” said Lorne. “Just until we secure the deal we’re working on.”

  “You mean until you get your blood money from the Prodders,” Harold growled.

  “Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Lorne stared silently at the water for a moment. “Anyways, I figure you’ll have a harder time getting out of this one.”

  “Can I drive the boat?” asked Samson.

  Lorne smirked. “What are you gonna steer with, your teeth?”

  “Maybe I’ll steer with my butt.”

  “Sure, Samson. You can drive the boat when I’m dead.”

  Samson smiled. “That will be a great day.”

  Doug woke up. “Huh? What’s going on?”

  “We’re taking you guys to our island hideout where you’ll be left for a couple days.”

  Doug scowled. “There’s something seriously wrong with you, dude.”

  Lorne rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve got a black heart.”

  “No,” said Doug. “You’ve got a brown heart... Because it’s made of poop.”

  Lorne put his hand on his chest. “Well, it’s been working just fine.” He stood up. “Talk amongst yourselves. I need to step out for a moment.”

  Winston woke up and looked around. “Hey, where’s my Gamebu?!”

  Lorne pointed to the cabin. “It’s in here with the rest of your stuff. Carl’s playing with it.”

  “You guys are depraved!” Winston yelled as Lorne walked out.

  Finally, Wayne awoke. “Ugh... What are... Huh?..”

  “He doesn’t seem quite with it,” said Doug.

  “Two of those darts in one day is a lot to take, I imagine,” said Winston.

  Wayne turned to keep the breeze from blowing in his face. “Did we make it back?”

  “No, Wayne.” Harold looked at the floor. “We didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Lorne and his guys all shot us with darts. Now we’re headed to some island base of theirs.”

  “Huh...” Wayne sighed. “That stinks.”

  The yacht approached the bigger of the two Islands, which was long and narrow and decked with wild greenery that appeared almost tropical. As the island stretched further back, a dirt path led up through a long hill of grass and rock. At the top of the hill sat a large ruined stone mansion. It was a mess now—full of holes and ivy—but it clearly would have made a marvelous home in its day. To the left of the mansion (if one were facing it), sat a thatch-roofed wooden cottage, which looked fairly new and in good condition. Behind the mansion was a steep cliff which dropped straight into the water.

  Lorne stepped back out. “Alright, get up, kids. We’re about to dock.”

  Since their arms were bound, Lorne had to assist the boys as they reluctantly stood up. After the boat stopped at a long wooden dock, Lorne and his four companions escorted each of their prisoners off of the boat. Magnus carried the laptop in his hands.

  Lorne tugged on Wayne’s hood as they all walked onto the beach. “Don’t you get hot wearing this hoodie all the time?”

  “No,” said Wayne. “Do you get sad being ugly all the time?”

  Lorne shook his head. “I’m not ugly. Mom said so.”

  “What the heck is this place, anyway?” asked Winston.

  “My great-great grandfather was a wealthy businessman. This was one of his getaways.”

  Winston eyed the mansion. “Looks real cozy.”

  “Yeah, there was an earthquake or something here years ago. That’s why the house is a wreck.” Lorne pointed to the cottage on the left. “That’s new. We built it.”

  As they started to walk up the path to the mansion, Samson pointed to the small island which sat about a quarter mile to the left of the island they were on. “What’s on that island?” It looked like a tiny mountain of rocks.

  Lorne shrugged. “Sand. Rocks. Who cares?”

  Samson looked at Magnus and Sprocket. “I’ve seen your friends do tricks. What tricks do you do, Lorne?”

  “Nada,” said Lorne. “What you see is what you get with me.”

  “Then why aren’t your goons running this show instead of you?” asked Winston.”

  “Our tricks don’t work on him,” said Sprocket.

  “I don’t get anything out of this that they don’t get,” said Lorne. “Just more headaches trying to organize everything.”

  “Hey, what did you do with our backpacks?” asked Doug. “Mine still has my letter in it.”

  “They’re on the boat,” said Magnus.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get them back,” said Lorne. “But if they have anything valuable inside, they may be lighter than you remember.”

  The sun began to creep over the water behind them as they arrived at the mansion’s front doorstep. Lorne opened the door and led everyone inside. Walking over the marble floor past a giant staircase in the central room, they made their way into a side hallway. As sunlight began to seep through the cracks and holes in the ceiling and walls, Harold imagined that it would cost a fortune to fix all of the damage.

  “Man, it’s a shame this place got busted,” said one of the cohorts. “It would have made a great place to stay.”

  Lorne rolled his eyes. “Todd, you say that every time we come here.”

  “Well it’s true every time,” said Todd.

  They boys entered what appeared to be a large den at the back side of the mansion, complete with a fireplace and stone walls. About half of the back wall was collapsed, revealing the cliff that overlooked the sea. The empty space—shaped like the bottom half of a circle—stretched from most of the ceiling, almost to the floor.

  Lorne waved them all in. “Alrighty, kids. Here’s where you’ll be staying.”

  Winston grimaced. “There aren’t any beds.”

  “No, but we do have these...” Lorne walked over to the back wall, where there were seven chains, each connected to a stone from the wall on one side and a metal anklet on the other. Lorne lifted one to show.

  “What are we, trolls, that you would chain us up?!” cried Samson.

  Doug sighed. “I take it you’ve locked people in here before?”

  Lorne shrugge
d. “Maybe once or twice.”

  The bulls proceeded to lock each of Harold’s crew, by the ankle, to one of the chains and untied their ropes.

  “Guess you won’t need these any more,” said Lorne, pulling the rope from Wayne. He clapped his hands together. “Alright, well I guess that’s it, then.” He pointed toward the cottage outside. “We’re gonna go have a few drinks, load up some treasure, and we’ll see you in a day or two... Sound good?”

  “No,” said the five prisoners in unison.

  “Great!” Lorne turned as his companions left the room.

  “How did you know we’d be in the limo?” asked Harold.

  Lorne stopped and looked back. “Sprocket got Wendell to tell us.”

  “Wendell told you what happened?”

  “Yeah. He won’t be making that mistake again.”

  Harold shuddered. “What did you do to him?”

  Lorne grinned. “I’ll leave that up to your imagination.” He turned and left the room.

  Wayne hung his head. “I’m sorry, Harold.”

  Harold looked over. “Sorry for what?”

  “I’m sorry that you won’t be able to say goodbye to Sally and tell her how you feel about her.”

  Harold shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Wayne.”

  “But I didn’t do much to help. I spent most of last night unconscious. Winston would have had an easier time without me.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not bitter about it,” said Winston. He then noticed the look of anguish on Wayne’s face. “I mean... No I wouldn’t have.”

  “I guess this is God’s way of saying I need to move on,” said Harold.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Winston.

  “For the past two years, I haven’t stopped thinking about Sally. It’s been rather distracting, to say the least.”

  Winston shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with liking a girl. Maybe you obsessed a little too much, but that’s too much of a good thing, you know? And there’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to talk to her one more time.”

  Harold sighed. “Well, we gave it all we could and it didn’t work out. I guess things don’t always go the way you want them to.”

  “And now the Prodders are gonna get the dirt on the state police and Lorne will get a bunch of money for it,” said Wayne.

  “That’s the world we live in,” said Harold. “It’s screwed up.”

  “What the heck are we supposed to tell our parents when we get home?” asked Doug.

  “I’m going to tell them not to send me to summer camp ever again,” said Samson.

  “I’ll just pretend we were at camp like they were told,” said Winston.

  “But that’s a lie,” Wayne objected.

  “It’s a lie that will make this whole mess a little easier,” said Winston.

  Harold shook his head. “That’s the only thing we have going for us now... A stinking lie.”

  Samson looked intently at the six by twelve inch stone that Harold was chained to. “Hey Harold, it looks like your stone may be a tad loose.”

  “Huh?!” Harold turned and inspected the stone, which was the bottommost stone on the wall. There appeared to be cracks in the seal between the stone and the others surrounding it. Where the floor should have been touching the stone, the wood was broken, exposing dirt underneath. Harold pushed against the stone, but it wouldn’t move. “Yeah, you’re right. It looks like there are cracks between it and the other stones, but it seems pretty well stuck in the dirt.”

  “Then dig it the heck out!” yelled Doug.

  “With what?” asked Harold.

  Winston picked up a small, flat shard of stone from the floor. “Here, try this rock.” He tossed it to Harold.

  “Okay.” Harold scratched away at the dirt until the full bottom of the stone was exposed. He pushed and it began to wobble. “Hey, it looks like it’s coming loose!” He planted his feet against the wall and tugged on the chain with his whole upper body until the stone came loose and he fell on his back.

  “How heavy is it?” asked Wayne.

  Harold stood up and lifted the stone. “Not too bad. Probably twenty to thirty pounds.”

  “Well what are you waiting for?” Doug waved Harold on. “Get out of here!”

  “But what about you guys?” asked Harold.

  “Yeah, what about us?” asked Winston.

  “We can wait,” said Doug. “Just get on the boat and get home. That’s all we need to turn this situation around.”

  “Yeah, if Sally doesn’t leave until tomorrow, you can still make it back,” said Wayne.

  “Okay, yeah!” Harold felt a rush of energy. “After I see Sally, I’ll tell the police that you guys and the laptop are still here.”

  Samson stamped his foot. “Stop lollydallying, Harold!”

  “Yeah, don’t dillygag, either!” said Winston.

  Harold stalled a moment, jittering with nervous excitement. “Alright...” He looked in the direction of the cottage. “I wonder if I can sneak in and get a key to unlock this chain.”

  “Are you nuts?!” cried Wayne. “Don’t take that risk!”

  “I can’t say goodbye to Sally looking like I just escaped from prison!”

  “Don’t be stupid,” pleaded Doug. “This is a lucky break. Don’t abuse it.”

  “I’m not.” Harold started to head for the door. “I’ll see you guys soon!” He picked up into a jog out of the room.

  Harold made it outside and snuck up on the cottage, with the stone held tight under his right arm. He crouched beneath a window and heard Lorne talking with his friends.

  “Does the computer still have all of the info on it?” asked Carl the cohort.

  “Yeah,” said Lorne, “they didn’t do anything to it.”

  “I can’t believe you ever wanted him to join The Order,” said Sprocket.

  “Why? His escape attempt last night was nothing short of impressive,” said Lorne.

  Harold was oddly flattered to hear this.

  “Yeah, but it was something short of successful!” Magnus laughed.

  “Well that was a given,” said Lorne. “I’m just saying the guy has a lot of guts and determination. Pity he’s got a self-righteous complex to go with it.”

  Harold decided he had heard enough then ran over to the other end of the cottage and quietly opened a door. He walked into what looked like some sort of lounge. The room was well adorned, though the furniture and decorations were somewhat mismatched. On a coffee table in the center of the room sat the laptop, with a tranquilizer gun beside it. He searched feverishly for a key, but was unable to find one. Realizing his time was short, Harold quickly gave up and walked for the door. As he passed the coffee table, he paused and looked down at it. In a moment, Harold grabbed the tranquilizer gun, stuffed it in his pocket, and picked up the laptop with his free hand. He proceeded to quietly slip out the door.

  As Harold closed the door behind him, he heard a door open at the other end of the cottage. He quickly ducked behind the opposite side and waited as he heard footsteps, eventually accompanied by the image of Lorne, with a bag in his hand, walking past the mansion in the direction of the boat.

  “Dang it...” Harold shook with frustration. He waited until Lorne was out of sight, and then ran back behind the mansion.

  “So do you think Harold made it to the boat yet?” asked Wayne.

  “Yeah, I’m sure he’s off the island by now,” said Doug.

  Suddenly, Harold popped his head over the opening in the wall above Wayne. “Hey, guys!”

  Doug sighed. “Okay, never mind.”

  “Harold, why are you still here?!” asked Wayne.

  “I saw Lorne walking towards the boat, so I can’t head there just yet.”

  The others all shared concerned looks.

  “I couldn’t find the key, but look what I did get!” He held up the laptop.

  “Harold, why did you take that?” asked Doug, nervously. “It wasn’t going anywhere.


  “I want to make sure it gets back to the Colonel. Lorne could have destroyed it while I was gone... I also swiped this.” He held out the tranquilizer gun.

  Wayne took the gun held it in his hands. “Harold, this is great and all, but you really should be focused on getting to the boat.”

  At that moment, the boys heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. Harold ducked behind the wall and Wayne shoved the gun under his butt.

  Lorne walked into the room and pulled a water bottle out of his bag. “Hey, I thought I’d be nice and give you guys some water.” He noticed that Harold was missing and froze. “What in the... Where the heck is Harold?!”

  The boys sat still, with no response.

  Lorne ran over to the open wall and poked his head over, spotting Harold. “You little twerp...” His face turned red.

  Lorne tried to grab Harold, but Harold evaded, then scrambled off the ground, laptop and stone in hand. He ran as fast as he could toward the cliff’s edge, which lay about thirty yards from the wall. Lorne climbed over the wall and began to chase after Harold.

  Winston shouted at Wayne. “Why didn’t you shoot him?!”

  Wayne trembled. “I choked!”

  Harold quickly made it to the cliff, dropped the stone on the ground, and held the laptop over the cliff’s edge with both hands. He yelled at Lorne. “Stay back, or I drop it!”

  Lorne stopped, about ten yards from the mansion and twenty from Harold. “Don’t do that, Harold.”

  “I mean it!” Harold shouted.

  “Come on now...” Lorne walked a few steps closer.

  Harold shook the laptop. “I’m serious, Lorne. You don’t want to test me.”

  Lorne stopped. “You don’t want to test me, either.” He pulled the revolver out of his pocket and aimed it at Harold.

  Harold froze. “Lorne... You wouldn’t...”

  Lorne cocked the gun.

  “You’re crazy!” Harold yelled.

  “You’ve got five seconds to step away from the cliff and set the laptop on the ground.”

  Harold didn’t move.

  Lorne kept his aim. “Five... Four...”

  Harold trembled, but held his resolve and stood still.

  “Three... Two... One.”

  The next second, Harold felt a sharp jolt in his chest and then an overwhelming numbness as the world began to grow dark. He started to wobble and took a step backward, dropping the laptop on the ground in front of him.

  Lorne lowered his aim, in complete shock. He looked behind him and saw what Harold saw—Wayne, pale as a ghost, aiming the tranquilizer gun at him from over the wall. He turned back and saw Harold starting to teeter over the edge of the cliff. “Harold!!!” Lorne sprinted towards him.

  A moment later, before Lorne could reach him, Harold fell backward off the sheer hundred-foot cliff and splashed into the lake. His body was swiftly dragged to the seafloor by the stone it was chained to.

  Lorne reached the edge, dropped to his knees, and looked over in horror.

  “Oh God, no!!!” Wayne dropped to the floor. “I hit Harold! He fell over the edge!” He buried his face in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

  The others were chilled to the bone and said nothing.

  Lorne looked to his left and saw the other Order members standing just outside the cottage, stunned and silent. He looked back down the cliff and trembled. “There’s nothing we can do. It’s too deep and there’s no way we can get to him in time.” Lorne then let out a bloodcurdling scream and hurled the revolver into the lake. He slowly stood up and started to walk toward the cottage. He rubbed his eyes, which were beginning to water.

  Magnus gulped. “You weren’t...”

  “Of course I wasn’t gonna shoot him!!!” Lorne screamed. “Get inside!”

 

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