“Shall we investigate?” she said.
“We haven’t found anything else so far,” said Richard. “Be careful. It’s probably a wild animal of some sort.”
“Apparently you’ve forgotten that I’ve lived around here for more than five years,” Carrie said.
“Oh, yeah – sorry.”
“Hold on,” said Carrie.
She hauled the bike sharply left and cut the engine, and they coasted down the side of the ridge toward the trees. When they reached the bottom, they were forced to dismount to plow through the dense brush. They skirted eastward of the area where they’d seen the movement, placing themselves in the path of whomever or whatever it was they’d seen.
Once into the trees, they found a regularly used path, and followed it eastward until they reached a small clearing. They took cover in some brush on the eastern edge, leaned the bike against a tree, and waited.
“Whoever it is, they must have heard our motorcycle,” whispered Richard. “It might scare them off.”
“What else can we do?” answered Carrie. “Anyway, it’s going to be tough going unless they stick to the path. They’ve got no choice but to come this way.”
About ten minutes later, they heard a rustle in the trees to the west of them, and prepared themselves. Richard pulled out his gun and released the safety. He could see Carrie’s body tense as the rustling got louder. Something was crashing through the bush. It sounded too big to be human.
Maybe it really was an animal – a bear or a large deer – there were enough of them around. Whatever it was, it had almost reached the edge of the clearing. The branches of the surrounding trees shook as it moved.
Richard grasped the gun in his hand and got ready to confront their quarry. Suddenly, it burst into view. Carrie gasped, and Richard’s jaw dropped open.
Joining Forces
For a second Richard thought he was dreaming. Plodding into the clearing was a big brown horse ridden by a young girl. The girl was preoccupied, as if she was searching for something. Richard was even more stunned when Zonk appeared from behind them, sniffing intently at the ground.
Am I hallucinating
?
He thought.
What the hell’s going on here
?
He and Carrie stepped out into the open, their guns drawn. At first the girl didn’t notice, but as she reached the center of the clearing she glanced up and spotted them. She gasped, and was about to turn the horse and make a run for it, but then stopped and stuttered, in a tiny voice, “M-M-Mr. Hampton?”
Zonk finally noticed them and ran up to Richard. The girl dismounted and led the horse to where they were standing.
“Do I know you?” said Richard.
“No,” answered the girl. “But I know you. I mean…I know your brother, Danny. I was at your house,” Suddenly she seemed embarrassed at having admitted to breaking in, and turned slightly pink. “I-I saw your picture.”
“When was this?”
“Yesterday.”
“What!”
“I’m sorry. I was desperate. I needed a place to stay.”
“It’s not that. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on. Maybe you’d better start from the beginning. To start with, what’s your name?”
“I’m Lacy,” said the girl.
“Well,” said Richard, “You already seem to know who I am.” He motioned to Carrie. “This is Carrie.”
“Hi,” said Lacy.
“Hi,” said Carrie, smiling.
They moved to another clearing hidden from the trail, and Lacy recounted rescuing Danny from the river and all the events leading up to their current meeting.
“So you’re looking for Danny too?” asked Carrie.
“Yes,” answered Lacy. “I think Zonk has his scent. I let him smell one of Danny’s shirts and he’s been leading me this way ever since.”
Richard told Lacy what he knew about Danny and there was a pause while they all digested the information they had collectively pieced together.
“So,” Richard finally broke the silence. “Since we’re all looking for Danny, I suggest we defer to a higher intelligence.” He smiled and nodded at Zonk, who sat panting on the ground beside them.
Danny and Swallow Arrive
After the encounter with the motorbike, Swallow’s behaviour got increasingly bizarre. He was extremely agitated, and jumped, even letting out an audible yelp once or twice, at the slightest sound. He now avoided the trail completely, and they were forced to slog through the dense brush far from any clearing.
Danny estimated they were no more than an hour’s hike, even at their present stumbling pace, from their destination. Sometime between now and their arrival, he would have to think of something. He would have to think of something or he would die.
A short time later, Swallow began to harass him.
“How much farther?” he said, kicking at Danny as if to punctuate his question.
“I’m not sure. I think we’re getting close.”
“You better not be trying to trick me. I will know if you’re trying to trick me.”
As dull as Swallow seemed in many ways, he was surprisingly perceptive and extremely cunning – Danny was inclined to believe him.
“I’m not trying to trick you,” he said. “We’re going in the right direction. I’ll tell you when we get there.”
“I am not stupid. If you try to trick me, I will know, and you will be sorry.”
Danny’s throat tightened and his stomach churned as a sense of desperation welled up inside him. The problem was, he was so tired – so tired. He could barely walk let alone fight this animal for his life.
You don’t have the luxury of self-pity, he told himself.
If you want to live, think of something – and make it quick…
Their path had been angling closer and closer to the Sky-train line, and finally, with a sense of dread, Danny looked up and saw King George station. Their destination was only a mile or so away. He pretended to stumble, trying to slow their pace, but Swallow quickly caught on to this tactic and prodded him to move faster.
After another twenty minutes of plowing through the brush, they emerged onto a hill overlooking a huge bowl-like area surrounded by a series of crumbling buildings.
“This is it!” cried Swallow, staring at Danny, his Adam’s apple bobbing excitedly.
“No…” answered Danny nervously.
“Yes it is! Do you think I’m stupid!” said Swallow, tugging on the rope so hard that it nearly pulled Danny off of his feet.
“No, it’s farther on.”
“I don’t believe you! How much farther?”
“It’s about twenty minutes from here.”
“You’d better not be lying to me,” said Swallow, giving another rough tug on the rope.
“I’m not,” said Danny. “It’s that way.” He pointed toward the northwest.
“Then go!” spat Swallow.
They trudged on in the direction Danny had indicated. About twenty minutes later they were peering down at an open expanse of concrete with a small square building toward the back. The space was covered with debris, and in one corner stood a rusting metal pole about twenty feet tall. Danny stopped and hesitated.
“Is this it?” said Swallow, his eyes boring into Danny, his Adam’s apple bobbing faster than before.
“I’m not sure…” answered Danny. He tried to stall for time, but he knew his time was up.
“This isn’t it!” cried Swallow. “It was back there, wasn’t it! It was back there! You’re trying to trick me!” He waved the gun at Danny.
“No, I’m sure,” answered Danny. “It’s here. This is it.”
“You’re sure? It’s here? My treasure is here? Show me where it is. Show me!”
Swallow became more frantic with every word. He grabbed Danny by the shoulders and started shaking him.
“Show me!” he screamed. “Show me where it is or you die!”
“You’re going to kill me anyway!”
“Show me!” repeated Swallow, not even hearing him. “Show me or I’ll kill you right now!”
Suddenly, Swallow released his grip and stood listening, with renewed terror. Danny listened closely, and once again heard the sound that seemed to fill his captor with such dread. It was the faint whine of a motorcycle engine. No – he realized – it was several engines. He guessed that this time their company wouldn’t be his brother.
Swallow began to tremble, and seemed to forget all about him. Danny was starting to think seriously about making a run for it, when Swallow suddenly snapped out of his trance, and propelled him toward a low hillside to the west.
“Move!” Swallow yelled, punctuating his command with a violent shove.
They climbed the hill and headed for the remains of a small building in the far corner of an abandoned lot. The roof, windows, and door were missing – it was nothing more than four concrete walls. Swallow brutally drove Danny toward it and then inside. He dragged Danny to a window overlooking the open area, grabbed his hair and pulled his head back.
“Is this it?” he whispered.
“I’m not sure,” answered Danny. He knew Swallow wanted to kill him, but didn’t dare until he was convinced he’d found what he was looking for.
“You’re sure,” Swallow hissed, bouncing Danny’s head violently against the concrete wall. Danny came close to blacking out, and his legs began to give way. Swallow eased his hold, apparently afraid he might have inadvertently killed him.
Danny shook his head alert. The drone of the bikes got louder. The sound faded in and out with the wind, or with their position in the surrounding hills. With each increase, Swallow became more anxious, and the movement of his Adam’s apple intensified.
Suddenly in the distance they heard gunfire – the pop, pop, pop of multiple shots being fired. Swallow began to shake. The exchange went on for several minutes, then stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
Finally the whine of the bikes was close. It was clear that the riders were heading straight for them, and would be upon them in minutes. Swallow pressed Danny against the wall with his right arm and peered out the window in terror, beads of sweat forming on his face.
Danny could tell from the sound that the bikes had entered the area below them, and seemed to be circling, as if searching for something – them? Swallow apparently saw who it was, because he actually gave an audible yelp of fear, and his body began bobbing up and down in time with his Adam’s apple.
“Oh no! Oh no!” Swallow said under his breath.
The bikes circled for several minutes, then, as if they had decided there was nothing to find, moved away in the same direction they’d been traveling. Swallow maintained unceasing pressure on Danny’s neck as they listened to the engines die away. Even after they were gone, Swallow stood shaking for several minutes. Danny wasn’t sure what his captor had seen or knew of Crack that could produce such terror, but there was no doubt that Swallow trembled at the very thought of meeting up with the gangster.
Eventually, long after the last hint of whining from the bikes had faded away, Swallow relaxed slightly, and seemed consider going back outside. First he peered through the window, then gingerly poked his head through and scanned around, listening intently.
Finally, satisfied that the gang might truly be gone, he dared to venture to the doorway, always keeping one eye on Danny. He repeated the ritual he had performed with the window, first poking his head out, then leaning outside and scanning the area intently.
After about ten minutes of waiting, he finally came and grabbed Danny, holding onto the rope and shoving Danny roughly ahead of him, as before. They hiked down the hill to the open area Danny had indicated earlier.
“We go to fulfill my destiny,” Swallow said matter-of-factly, as if announcing a trivial news item. They reached the bottom of the hill.
“Now, show me!” Swallow yelled. “Show me or you die!”
Danny was about to speak when there was a barely audible click behind them.
Swallow and Crack
Swallow froze, then began to shake. Finally, a look of dread crawling over his face, he slowly turned to locate the source of the sound. Danny turned as well. It was Mansur, standing no more than a few yards behind them, pointing a gun directly at Swallow’s chest.
“I tell you,” said Mansur, like he was making some personal observation in a bar, “that Crack is one smart dude. ‘I think they’re around here somewhere’, he says. ‘Look how the dust has been disturbed. Somebody was walking here recently’, he says. ‘Mansur, why don’t you hide your bike a few blocks away then climb the hill and watch for a while? Maybe they’ll show up.’ I think he’s batty, but I do what he says.” Mansur took a couple of steps closer.
“And look what happened,” he continued, laughing. “It’s just like he said. Man, he is one smart guy.”
Mansur’s laugh ended abruptly. “Now, drop your gun on the ground and kick it over here.”
Swallow did as he was ordered.
Mansur raised his own gun until it was pointing directly at Swallow’s head. The pathetic little kidnapper went weak in the knees, and Danny thought Swallow would collapse on the spot, but somehow he stayed upright. Mansur hesitated with the gun trained on Swallow’s skull, then, smiling, continued to raise it until it was vertical, and fired a shot into the air. Swallow twitched violently at the sound of the shot.