Eldorado (10 page)

“On your feet,” he said to Richard.

Richard struggled to his feet and Josh patted him down, finally saying, “He’s clean.” He nodded in Doyle’s direction and said to Richard, “This isn’t your day – his brother was killed by a Ripper.”

“I’m not a Ripper,” said Richard. “I don’t even know them.”

“You were riding on a bike with one of them,” said Josh. “What were you doing – hitchhiking?” They all laughed.

“They kidnapped me,” said Richard. “I’ve got nothing to do with the Rippers or any other gang.”

“Is that so? Then what are you doing out here?”

“I came from the city. I jumped the Food Train and walked.”

“Unarmed? Alone?”

“I had a gun. One of the Rippers took it away.”

Josh studied him for a few seconds.

“Well you know,” he finally said, “that’s a real fascinating story. So fascinating that I think we’ll just take you with us and you can tell it to some other people we know. You’d better pray you can convince them. Where we come from they’re inclined to kill Rippers on sight.”

“Why wait?” said Doyle. “I say we just kill him here.”

“Well you’re not in charge, are you?” said Josh. “I am, and I say we let him talk to Tucker. You take him on your bike.”

“Why me?” said Doyle.

“Because I said so,” said Josh.

Doyle shoved Richard roughly toward his bike. Richard staggered forward and turned, about to retaliate. Doyle pushed his gun barrel into Richard’s chest, smiling.

“Just give me an excuse,” he said.

Richard climbed onto Doyle’s bike and sped off as before, with a new set of captors, still traveling away from his original goal. After a twenty minute ride they approached a huge square building surrounded by impressive ten foot tall ramparts made from shards of shiny black rock.

A sentry stood on a platform behind the wall. Spotting them he waved and disappeared. He soon opened a small door in the heavy gate blocking the entrance, and Richard and the others passed through. Once inside, Richard could see that the vast open space had once been a parking lot. The asphalt had been torn up and used to build the wall. Every inch of the land underneath was now cultivated, and he saw numerous people out working in the fields.

A strip of pavement had been left untouched and served as a road into the monstrous structure. As they approached more closely, Richard saw that there had once been writing on the building in huge letters over the main doorway. The letters themselves had long-since disappeared, but he could still see the faded outline where they had once stood.

The shadow letters spelled out – 'Wal-Mart'.

Lacy and Danny

Lacy pressed a damp cloth on Danny’s forehead as he tossed and turned and mumbled anxiously in his sleep. He awoke suddenly and lifted his head off the pillow. Still only half awake, he stared up at her.

“You were having a nightmare,” she said. “I think you’ve still got a fever.”

It was late in the afternoon on the day he’d first regained consciousness. He looked weak and exhausted. Without a word he simply lay down and went back to sleep. A couple of hours later he awoke again. Lacy was nearby, mending a shirt and keeping watch over him. This time he hoisted himself up on the pillow.

“I’m really lucky that you found me,” he said, smiling at her. She blushed deeply. Once again she prepared him a bowl of stew. This time he was able to prop himself up on one elbow and eat.

“What’s it like in Vancouver?” She asked as he ate. "Are there lots of people?"

“Are you kidding? There's millions of people – too many – too many for me anyway.”

“So… if you were walking down the street,” she said, gazing out the door of the shack, “how many people would you see?”

“That depends. If you were walking around where we live you'd hardly see anybody. They'd all be in their houses – unless they were out working in the garden. If you were right downtown – like at the corner of Robson and Granville – and it was the middle of the day – you'd see thousands.”

“What else would you see?”

“Traffic – bicycles, motor scooters, putt-putts, handcarts, streetcars. And it's really noisy – not like here.”

“What do people do there?”

Danny shrugged. “If you're our age, you usually go to school. A lot of kids don’t bother – it’s better to learn a trade or something. If you're out of school, and you can, you work, mostly. Work at lame jobs. Come home. Go to sleep. Get up. Do it all over again. It's really boring.”

“What about you?”

“I hang out, or go to school sometimes – come home – fight with my brother. I like it way better out here. Whenever I can I come out here with Zonk.”

“Zonk?”

“Zonk’s my dog. He’s kind of funny looking, but he’s got a great personality – and a sense of smell you wouldn’t believe.”

“What use is that?”

“You’d be surprised,” Danny smiled.

“I guess it’s useful for a dog. You talked about your brother. What about your mum and dad?”

“They died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” He put aside the empty bowl. “The guys I was running from when I jumped into the river were beating on Zonk, and they’ve probably still got him. Thanks for all your help, but I’ve got to get back.”

He tried to raise himself up, but only got half-way to a sitting position before falling back down.

“You’re not in any shape to go anywhere,” said Lacy.

She took away the bowl and re-arranged his pillow and blankets. Her life had been so simple and uneventful before Danny came crashing into it. Now an unmanageable assortment of emotions and urges churned inside her in a constant pitched battle. A part of her longed for him to stay forever, and dreaded the thought that she could ever be left alone again. Another part saw him as a dangerous threat to her self-control and her peaceful existence. The collective condition was paralyzing confusion.

Until Danny came along, she’d always believed she lived a full, contented life. His arrival had been like a bombshell, blowing that belief apart and exposing what she now realized – that she was desperately lonely. And Danny's stories of the city thrilled her. She had vague memories of her time there, but they were dreamlike and clouded in the mists of the past. She finally ventured to suggest what she’d been thinking about since Danny first arrived.

“When you’re well enough to go,” she said, “I could go with you.”

Taken Prisoner

As Richard and his captors passed through the expansive entrance of the Wal-Mart complex, they left the bright sunlight behind for the perpetual murkiness of its interior. The entrance, once lined with a span of windows, was now boarded up except for a ten-foot gap that could be quickly blocked off by a single massive sliding wooden door.

There was apparently no electricity, but light entered the building from holes punched in the upper walls. A huge hole had also been opened in the middle of the roof. Smoke, presumably from cooking fires, wound its way slowly upwards into the opening. The space was sub-divided into individual living areas separated by crude walls framed with scraps of wood and covered with plastic or cloth. Makeshift alleyways ran between them, creating a maze of pathways that crisscrossed the entire area.

After a heated discussion with Josh, Doyle shoved Richard roughly down one of those pathways toward a tiny office, one of the few structurally enclosed ‘rooms’ in the building. He gave Richard one last shove inside, then closed and locked the door. The only furniture in the room was a single wooden chair, and Richard resignedly sat down on it and waited.

About twenty minutes later Doyle returned, with two others Richard hadn’t seen before. His knees shook as he stood to face them. The biggest of the new men, a muscle-bound giant, waited by the door and fixed him with a menacing stare. The other man, smaller and more intelligent looking, stood in front of him.

“My name is Tucker,” he said. “I’m the leader of our little group here. It’s your unlucky day. Whatever you did to piss off the other Rippers was probably your last mistake. Give me a reason not to have you executed right here and now.”

Richard’s gut churned and his throat went dry. “I told them already,” he said. “I’m not a Ripper – I’ve got nothing to do with them. I’m no threat to you or your people,”

Tucker stared at him. “Josh told me about that. So you’re sticking to that story?”

“My brother’s missing. I thought he might have come this way. Those two on the bikes grabbed me. They were taking me to see some guy named Snake…”

“So you know Snake?”

“I have no idea who Snake is or who you are or what any of you are doing. I was just out here minding my own business.”

“Alone?”

“Another guy was supposed to come with me, but a guard on the Food Train shot him. I think he’s dead…”

“You’re saying you jumped the Food Train? Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth – what do you want me to say?”

“Kill him and get it over with,” said Doyle.

“He’s telling the truth,” a voice echoed from behind them. Richard stared over Tucker’s shoulder. Standing just inside the door was the woman he’d ‘saved’ earlier from the rapists.

“You know this guy?” said Tucker.

“I know his story’s true,” she said, stepping forward. “I met him not far from the Food Train track. He may be deranged, and maybe he’s got a death wish, but what he told you is the same thing he told me, and when I met him he was alone.”

“And you believe him?”

“Look at him,” she said, laughing. “Do you honestly think the guy’s a Ripper?”

“Yeah, he looks like a dweeb from the city, but you never know…”

“We can’t afford to take a chance,” said Doyle. “I say we execute him anyway.”

The woman sneered at Doyle contemptuously. “Is that how far we’ve sunk? We’re getting to be no better than the Rippers.”

“Don’t get on your high horse,” said Tucker. “Doyle’s got a point. You don’t get any awards for being a good guy out here.”

“Yeah, but you get to live with yourself,” said the woman.

The other three were silent.

“I’ll take responsibility for him,” she finally said.

“You?” said Doyle. “Since when did you care about biker scum?”

“Since he’s not one of them,” said the woman, “like I already told you.”

“It’s true he doesn’t look much like a Ripper…” said Tucker.

“He can stay with me for the night,” said the woman. “Tomorrow I’ll make sure he’s gone. Whatever happens to him after that is his problem.”

The giant smirked. Doyle turned red. Tucker stared at the floor for a few seconds.

“You’d be taking full responsibility,” he finally said. “If he causes any trouble, it’d be your neck.”

“Fine.”

Richard was shaking, his life in the balance. Tucker turned to him.

“It’s your lucky day after all,” he said. “Go with her,” he pointed at the woman. “If you make any trouble – any trouble at all – understand?”

Richard nodded. The group parted as he walked through them toward the door. Doyle shoved him as he passed by.

“Leave him, Doyle,” said Tucker.

Richard reached the doorway. “Come with me,” said the woman. She walked away and Richard followed like a lost puppy.

“I’ll be watching,” said Tucker.

“So will I,” said Doyle.

Richard followed the woman through the maze of alleyways to the south side of the building. Occasionally a face would emerge from one of the ragged cubicles, staring at him, usually wearing an unwelcome expression. They didn’t like strangers here.

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” he said as they walked.

“I’ve had to accept a lot of things since I moved out here,” said the woman without turning, “but killing innocent people is where I draw the line. That doesn’t mean I like you. It just means I don’t agree with killing you.”

“Well, at least we finally agree on something. My name’s Richard.”

“Carrie,” she said.

She didn’t stop or look back, but Richard thought he could see the trace of a smile on her face. After a ten minute walk they stopped by what she explained was her ‘space’ in the compound. It was no more than a ten-by-ten foot nook demarcated by blankets. A narrow cot filled the wall on his left. A set of shelves built from old bricks and used lumber stood next to the wall directly ahead of him. Another low set of shelves crowded the remaining wall.

A faded photograph without a frame, the sole decoration in the space, balanced on the top. He inspected the photograph in the dim light – it was a handsome young man in a military uniform.

“This is where you live?” Richard asked, embarrassed that, unintentionally, his tone sounded condescending.

“It’s not much,” answered Carrie, “but it’s home.”

She headed for the larger set of shelves and grabbed a thin blanket.