Eldorado (27 page)

“So how the fuck did Swallow hook up with him?” said Crack.

“Hell if I know. Maybe he guessed the kid survived – maybe he just lucked out. Anyway, he found the kid somehow. He’s got him tied up and he’s forcin’ him to go somewhere – probably wherever it was he found the gasoline. I tailed them for a while – they’re in Surrey, following the old Sky-train line. They should be easy to find.”

“Did they see you?”

“Nah, I stayed out of sight. Like you said, I don’t think Swallow’s the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

“Well,” laughed Crack, “I was beginning to think my luck had run out, but this more than makes up for it. Mansur, tell everybody to get ready. We’ll head out first thing in the morning. We’re on our way to Surrey.”

A Desperate Flight

For two days Danny stumbled through unknown territory, jumping at every unfamiliar sound, constantly checking over his shoulder for the pursuing Swallow. He’d seen no sign of his kidnapper, but had no doubt that if Swallow was alive he would be out there.

Food was becoming a factor. There was always water available in local streams, but the small amount of meat Lacy had put in his pack had almost run out. He was careful to take advantage of any nuts or berries he found as he ran, but they alone weren’t enough to sustain him.

In his panic, he hadn’t considered where he was going, he’d just run blindly away from danger. Now he had no idea where he was. The country he was traveling through was flat and forested, with few hills, and no opportunity to scout the surrounding landscape. The trees were a hypnotizing wall of sameness, like a hall of mirrors, every view a reflection of every other.

At one point he came upon a rock outcropping that looked disturbingly familiar. The horrifying thought arose that he’d been to this spot before – that he was running in circles. A sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him. Now he not only faced the prospect of being overtaken by Swallow, but of meeting his pursuer coming the other way. In the back of his mind he understood that without a plan he’d just keep running until Swallow finally caught up, but he continued his desperate flight to nowhere, terrified that if he stopped even for a second his pursuer would be upon him.

On the morning of the third day after his escape, Danny woke to a devastating blow and an intense pain in his side. Still half-asleep, he opened his eyes and stared up at of his worst nightmare come true; Swallow stood over him, shaking with rage, holding the gun Danny had stolen.

One of Swallow’s eyes was blackened, the left side of his jaw was badly swollen, and there were bruises on his face. Swallow hauled back and delivered another excruciating kick to Danny’s side. His body contorted with pain, and he tried to get to his feet, but Swallow’s boot caught him again, this time in the stomach. Danny doubled over and collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

“It is your destiny to take me to my treasure,” hissed Swallow. “Otherwise I would kill you now. He jammed his boot down on Danny’s neck and forced his hands behind his back, tying them tightly with the rope.

“Get up,” said Swallow through clenched teeth. Danny lay where he was, trying to get his breath.

“Get up!” screamed Swallow. Danny staggered to his feet.

“This time I will not take my eyes off of you even for one second. And if you try to escape again – I will kill you – treasure or no treasure. Move!”

Danny stumbled forward out of the little clearing where he’d been sleeping. Swallow strode behind, shoving him at regular intervals to force him on. He was held as before, on a leash like an animal. He had to focus on staying alive. For now, that meant taking his captor where he wanted to go. When they got there, he’d have to think of something, because at that moment his life would be over.

Danny recognized enough of the surrounding countryside to know they were retracing the path he’d taken when he escaped. He was demoralized and completely exhausted. His right side convulsed in excruciating agony – he wondered whether Swallow might have broken one of his ribs. The rest of his body throbbed with pain.

At first, Swallow set a blistering pace, and Danny wasn’t sure how long he could go on. Finally, recognizing Danny’s state, Swallow stopped occasionally and allowed him to rest. He grudgingly fed him something to keep his strength up, and gave him some water. It took another two and a half days, but they finally rejoined the trail – only slightly east of the point where Danny had escaped.

Once on the trail, Swallow set a brisk but slower pace, and Danny’s confidence grew. Even the pain in his side felt better. He conserved his strength, and slowed the pace as much as he dared without inviting Swallow’s renewed wrath. They scaled a hill and in the distance Danny recognized some familiar landmarks. His chest tightened as he realized they were probably little more than a day’s hike from their destination.

Reunification

“I should have known he’d pull an idiotic stunt like that,” snapped Jim Keller as he and Carrie rode hard toward Crack's hideout. “For somebody
with a College education
that Richard is one stupid guy – or maybe he’s just got a death-wish.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Jim,” said Carrie. “If anybody should have known what he was going to do it’s me. Let’s face it – he’s a little crazy right now. This thing with Danny has pushed him over the edge.”

The light was just rising when they silently rolled their bikes within sight of Crack’s hideout. Early that morning, when Carrie had wakened Keller to tell him that Richard was missing, neither of them had doubted where he’d gone. Luckily, Keller was familiar with the area and didn’t need the map. They peered around the corner of a building about a block away and scrutinized the compound.

“Too many guards walking around,” whispered Keller. “There’s no way we can make it in there right now. All we can do is watch and hope for a break.”

They rode around, out of sight, searching for a lookout. Finally they settled on what looked like an abandoned building high enough to give them a clear view. They wheeled their bikes inside.

“Well I’ll be damned,” said Keller, rummaging through some debris beside one wall and uncovering Richard’s bike.

“Maybe he’s still here,” Carrie said hopefully.

“If he’s got the brains God gave a goose he is. If he’s here, he’ll be on the roof.”

They climbed the same set of stairs Richard had climbed earlier and emerged onto the roof.

“Keep down,” whispered Keller. “He’s not here. He must have either moved to another spot or gotten in – somehow.”

They lay, as Richard had done, and stared down at the entrance to the compound, watching and waiting. Once or twice a visitor pulled up to the gate and was allowed to enter, but otherwise the place was quiet. After an hour or so there was finally some activity. Bike engines whined, and men moved between buildings carrying backpacks.

“They’re getting ready to move out,” said Keller.

One of the men walked the wide chain-link gate open, and a group of about a dozen men, largely two per bike, sped out, kicking up clouds of dust as they went.

“They’re in a big hurry,” said Keller. “Looks like they’re abandoning this place.”

They waited ten more minutes, and finally left their perch. Keller used his ‘universal persuader’ to break the lock on the gate, and they entered the compound. Both had their guns drawn. They moved down the lanes between the buildings, scanning for any sign of movement.

Finally they ventured into the main building. They explored the hallways then moved into the warehouse area. There were pieces of old furniture, and the remnants of some ancient machinery, but no sign of Richard or anyone else.

Moving back outside, they expanded their search to the perimeter. Carrie was checking a clump of trees in the back corner when she stepped out from behind a bush and saw man’s body lying on the ground no more than ten feet away. The body lay on its side, facing away from her. She gasped loudly, and Keller came running.

Carrie was paralyzed, frozen in place. Keller walked around her and up to the body.

“Maybe you shouldn’t look,” he said.

“If it’s him, it won’t make any difference whether I look or not,” she answered.

Keller knelt down, gingerly took hold of one shoulder and rolled the body onto its back. They both gasped a sigh of relief.

“It’s not him,” said Keller, stating the obvious. The bloodstained body was that of a dark haired young man with numerous tattoos.

“I don’t think I’m up to searching in here,” said Carrie. “Would you mind doing it? I’ll check around the garage.”

“No problem,” said Keller.

Carrie felt physically ill as she pushed her way slowly out of the trees. She’d lived with violence and death for years now. So why was she so upset? What if that had been Richard? What would she do? How could she face being alone again?

Richard was the first man since her husband for whom she’d felt any love or passion. Now there was a good chance he'd thrown his life away on an insane mission that was doomed to failure. She could only put the thought out of her head and tell herself that somehow he’d be found alive.

She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she was shocked when she glanced up to see a filthy man in rags about ten yards away, staggering drunkenly toward her. She trained her gun on the approaching figure.

“Jim!” she called, and Keller came running.

The man, bare-chested, bruised, and covered in dirt and blood, stumbled to within a few yards of her and reached out his hand. She was deciding whether or not to fire when the man croaked, “Carrie… Danny’s alive!”

“Richard?” she said. “Richard!”

At that moment his knees buckled, and she ran forward to support him.

Keller arrived and they helped the exhausted Richard down onto an old junked fridge lying on the ground. He was covered with filth from head to toe. His pants were torn, his hair was matted, and his right arm was caked in blood. Carrie squatted in front of him and examined his wound.

“He’s been shot,” she said. “He was lucky, it looks like the bullet just grazed the skin, but he’s probably lost a lot of blood.”

She held his head in her hands.

“I noticed they had something jury-rigged in the warehouse that looked like a water supply,” said Keller. “We can get that wound cleaned and bandaged.”

“Sure,” said Carrie. She turned to Richard.

“Can you walk?”

“I can try,” whispered Richard, and tried unsuccessfully to stand. Keller came over, and with him under one arm and Carrie under the other, he staggered into the warehouse. Within a half-hour, Carrie had cleaned his wound and bandaged his arm with the cleanest cloth she could find. They wrapped his injured ribs and cleaned his clothes as best they could, then left him to rest.

A couple of hours later he awoke, stood shakily, stretched, and walked around slowly. He was beginning to resemble the Richard they once knew.

“I’ve got disinfectant back at the RV,” said Keller. “We can clean the wound properly when we get there.”

“Great,” said Richard. “I still can’t believe you guys are here.”

“That goes double for us,” said Keller. “I wouldn’t have given you a snowball’s chance in Hell of getting mixed up with Crack and coming out of it alive. I tell you, man, somebody up there’s looking out for you big time.”

He glared at Richard. “That was an incredibly stupid and inconsiderate thing you did.”

“I know,” Richard said, staring at the ground.

“We knew right away where you must have gone,” Keller continued. “Pissed off as we were, we couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Carrie’s here because it’s obvious she’s crazy about you…” Richard looked up and she felt herself blushing.

“I’m damned if I know why I came,” Keller said. “We thought you were a goner for sure…”

“I’m sorry,” Richard said. “I owe both of you my life. I shouldn’t have taken off.” He closed his eyes and swayed sideways.

“You okay?” Keller said.

Richard nodded. “We’ve got to get going.”

“Are you sure you’re up to riding?” said Carrie.

“I’ll have to be. There’s no time to lose.”

***

They headed back to Keller’s place, as quickly as possible given Richard’s condition. Despite the pain and fatigue, Richard was in high spirits. For the first time since setting out on this journey he could finally say with considerable certainty that his brother was alive.
Danny is alive!
He repeated it to himself, allowing it to sink in. He had always fiercely maintained the outward conviction that his brother still lived, and would have violently opposed any suggestion he might be wrong. But sometimes at night, when the events of the day were no longer there to occupy his mind, he'd been forced to consider the unthinkable.

Now the black cloud that had hung over him since Danny’s disappearance was finally beginning to burn away. The news was uplifting, but frightening as well. What if, having finally learned that Danny still lived, he was unable to save him?