Eldorado (34 page)

“Sorry,” said Carrie.

Lacy just shook her head. Richard studied the battle scene. His gaze finally rested on the Black Cherry.

“Zonk,” he said.

“What?” said Carrie.

“Zonk crawled out of the back of the car. He didn’t even pay any attention to us. He just ran off…”

“Maybe he was scared,” said Carrie.

Richard stared at the ground for a few seconds.

“Danny,” he finally said. “He went looking for Danny!”

They located their discarded guns and half-staggered, half-ran in the direction Zonk had headed. Richard was well aware that wherever Zonk had gone, Crack would be there too. He tried not to think about it. They had been traveling for about twenty minutes when they heard a yelp in the distance.

They made their way along the back wall of a very long building, and soon reached a point where it had broken away, leaving a gap open to the inside. Richard motioned for Carrie and Lacy to stay where they were, and snuck through the gap to investigate. His gun drawn, he crossed the darkness of the interior and poked his head around another break in the front wall.

The break opened onto a huge absolutely flat expanse. No more than fifty yards away stood Crack, holding tightly onto Zonk’s collar. Next to him stood Chuckles, Pig, and Hammer. Kneeling on the other side of Zonk was Danny.

Richard was so preoccupied studying the group that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until it was too late. A hand grabbed his arm and a gun pressed into his back. He glanced over his shoulder. It was Mansur.

“Drop it,” he said.

Richard dropped the gun. Mansur picked it up and shoved it in his belt. Not far behind, and approaching him, was Peachy, herding Carrie and Lacy. They soon caught up, and Mansur said, “Move”, jamming the gun barrel into his ribs. They all headed for the group Richard had been watching.

As they walked, Richard scanned around him. They were in a bowl-shaped valley the size of a football field, the continuation of the area where they had fought with Crack. A ring of low dusty hills surrounded them. The ground under their feet had once been paved, but the pavement was crumbling; the place had been abandoned for many years.

The plane forming the bottom of the bowl was surrounded on three sides by low, two-storey buildings – a shorter one at each end, and a very long one to his left running its full length. The gap through which they had entered was a hole in this long stretch.

He examined the long expanse of wall more closely and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Spanning the wall, painted in huge black letters that had faded but were still legible, were the words: ‘W*ld Rose Energy Ltd’. The break in the wall through which they had walked had obliterated the ‘i’ in ‘Wild’.

He studied the flat ground surrounding them, and guessed where they were. “Great God almighty,” he whispered. Carrie was walking beside him. He nudged her with his elbow and inclined his head toward the wall. She looked over, and, after a moment of shocked surprise, nodded her comprehension.

On spotting them Crack was almost jovial.

“Well…” he yelled as they arrived. “You’re still not dead! We’ll soon fix that. You’ve been a pain in my ass for the last time.”

He went to pull the gun from his belt and remembered it wasn’t there. He snapped his fingers at Mansur, who handed him Richard’s gun.

“You can thank your lucky stars that I haven’t got the time to pay you back properly for the trouble you’ve caused me,” said Crack. “You’ll have the luxury of dying quickly.”

Crack pointed the gun at Richard’s head.

“Bye, bye, professor” he said, as he began to squeeze the trigger.

“Wait!” screamed Danny.

Crack hesitated, and glanced over at him.

“I can tell you something else,” said Danny.

“Really?” said Crack. “What could you possibly have that I’d be interested in?”

“Promise you won’t kill them and I’ll tell you.”

Crack lowered the gun and handled it thoughtfully for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he finally said, turning to face Danny.” You’ve got my attention. What?”

“First promise,” said Danny, staggering to his feet.

Crack sneered and shook his head. “Okay, – I promise I won’t kill them. This better be good.”

Danny hesitated. Crack lifted his gun and pointed it at Richard. “I’m waiting…” he said.

“There’s more,” said Danny.

Crack lowered his gun. “More? More what?”

“More gas – a lot more.”

Crack motioned with the gun toward Richard’s group. “See – they’re still alive – continue.”

Swallow had risen to a kneeling position by Crack’s feet. He clasped his hands together on his forehead and began to rock back and forth and babble to himself. Richard heard him say, in a whisper, “Yes, I am ready – I am no longer afraid…”

“Shut the fuck up!” said Crack, pushing Swallow to the ground with his boot. “Peachy, keep an eye on this piece of shit.”

Peachy moved into position next to Swallow.

Crack stuffed the gun into his belt. “More gas where?”

“H…Here,” Danny said.

“What do you mean, here?”

“You’re standing on it.”

“Really?” said Crack sarcastically. He stared at Danny for a few seconds. Finally, with a sneer, he hauled roughly on Zonk’s collar and dragged the struggling, yelping animal into the center of the plane. He reached down and stroked Zonk’s head with his free hand. Richard shuddered as the tentacles of Crack’s octopus tattoo squirmed with each stroke. Zonk relaxed somewhat, and finally sat on the ground, panting quietly.

Crack squatted down in front of Zonk.

“Zonk,” he said, “Eldorado!”

Zonk began his familiar dance, alternately standing on his hind legs and all fours, and turning in tight circles. But the dance was more intense now, more violent than before. He leapt straight up and began shaking as if he were having a fit. His eyes rolled partially back into his head, and faint whimpers issued from his throat. For several seconds he continued in a trance-like state.

Finally he took off like a bullet, rocketing straight for the periphery of the plane on which they stood. Reaching the boundary, he loped around the perimeter of the expanse.

“It can’t be,” said Crack, standing up. “It’s impossible.”

“God be praised!” cried Swallow.

Zonk continued his run, galloping around the entire circumference of the massive plane.

“It’s McAllister’s Cache,” Richard whispered to Carrie. “He found it - I don’t believe it!”

“I’m rich!” screamed Crack, punching his right arm into the air. “I’m the richest man in the world! I’m rich beyond my wildest fucking dreams!”

Zonk completed his circuit and headed back toward the group. On returning to their position he slowed to a trot and cut out at an angle away from them. When he reached a small pile of debris about thirty feet from where they stood, he stopped, stood in one place, and pointed repeatedly with his snout. Jutting out above the pile was a length of pipe about four feet tall and about four inches in diameter, capped with a complex jumble of hardware.

Crack strode over to where Zonk was standing. He kicked the dog out of his way and frantically began hauling away debris, clearing a path to the pipe Zonk had indicated. Zonk sat at the edge of the pile, watching him. On close inspection, Richard guessed that the hardware topping the pipe was some sort of pressure fitting. It was surrounded by a solid cage of heavy gauge steel held in place by a massive padlock, which appeared to be intact.

“Mansur,” Crack called behind him. “You got your wheel-wrench?”

“As always,” Mansur called back, and tapped lightly on the thick steel bar hanging from his belt.

“Well get over here,” yelled Crack. “And bring Chuckles with you.”

Mansur enlisted Pig to take his place guarding Richard while he and Chuckles went to join Crack. Mansur tossed the wheel-wrench to Chuckles, who jammed it into the hasp of the lock and began to bear down. The steel bar bowed as the giant biker applied his full weight.

At first it looked as if the lock would hold, as Chuckles tried several times from several angles. Finally, they heard a loud crack, and the hasp burst open. With the lock gone, the cage could be lifted over the assembly to hang from its massive hinges. Chuckles tossed the wrench back to Mansur.

“You’ve got a
University education
,” Crack yelled at Richard. “Make yourself useful – do you know what this is?”

“Why should I tell you anything?” Richard yelled back, though in truth he knew little more than Crack about the device.

“Because maybe I’ll wait a bit longer before I waste your precious little brother!” answered Crack. “I never promised anything about him!”

Pig shoved Richard roughly forward toward the three already surrounding the fitting.

Richard knew a little about mechanics, but next to nothing about this particular hardware. He recognized that at least appearing to be of some use might keep him and the others alive a bit longer.

“It’s a pressure release valve,” he guessed. “A volume of gasoline this size would produce a substantial amount of vapour. The valve is like insurance in case the pressure builds up too much.”

“Is that so…” said Crack, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe him. “So what if we break it off?”

“If it’s still working – nothing,” answered Richard. “If it quit working at some point, all the vapour will be released.”

“So?” said Crack.

“So there will probably be a vapour jet something like what happened at the gas station, only a thousand times bigger.”

“But the gas will still be there…” said Crack.

“Yes,” answered Richard. “Whatever liquid gasoline is still down there will be intact.”

Crack eyed him strangely, not completely convinced. Suddenly he seemed to forget about Richard, and began clearing away more debris around the pipe structure. Chuckles and Mansur joined in, and within a few minutes they had opened an area about twenty feet in diameter around the assembly. Crack strode slowly around the pipe inspecting it, while Mansur tried to wedge the sharp edge of his wheel wrench into various leverage points.

“There’s a good prying spot right here…” Mansur tapped on a small gap in the weld between the fitting and the end of the pipe. “Chuckles – do your thing,” he said, tossing the wheel wrench to the huge biker.

Chuckles took the wrench in his giant hands and jammed the sharp end hard into the gap Mansur had indicated. Judging that he had a good grip, he pulled down on the metal bar, applying the entire immensity of his body weight. Nothing happened, and the bar flexed so severely that Richard was sure it would break.

Suddenly, the end slipped out of its contact point. The bar went flying into the air and Chuckles fell to the ground. They all scrambled to get out from under the trajectory of the heavy bar, and it finally clanged to the pavement, bouncing several times.

Chuckles determinedly picked up the wheel wrench and drove it even harder into the same gap. Richard heard a faint hiss as the tip of the bar hit home. The massive biker began again, hauling down at an angle on the flexing shaft. At last the fitting seemed to give way the tiniest amount. There was a louder hiss as Chuckles applied more pressure. The bar bent more and more with his prodigious weight.

Finally it snapped loudly and broke in two. Once again Chuckles plunged to the ground.

“Shit!” he said as he dragged his huge bulk up and dusted himself off.

“Now what do we do?” said Mansur.

“Wait…” said Crack, his hand raised.

Richard continued to eye the fitting. A tiny crack began to form in the spot where the wrench had been jammed. The intensity of the hissing gradually increased until it was almost deafening. The hiss turned to a high-pitched squeal as the gap Chuckles had opened formed a natural whistle.

The odour of gasoline fumes soon permeated the air. The pitch of the whistling sound dropped as the gap was forced progressively larger by the enormous pressure below. Soon it was large enough that the integrity of the hardware began to fail, and the entire fitting began to rock up and down in a harmonic motion, transforming the constant ever-lowering whistle to a chilling warbling sound.

“Get down – it’s going to blow!” Richard yelled behind him.

Pig punched him brutally in the kidneys and held him upright. Carrie and Lacy did as Richard suggested, and none of the bikers chose to stop them. In fact, Hammer, the one guarding them, followed their lead and did the same.

The rocking of the fitting became a flapping motion, and the warbling transformed into an ear-splitting variable-pitch wail like a police siren. The variation of the pitch indicated the speed at which the fitting was tearing itself apart. The note dropped to an eerie bass as the widening gap opened almost completely.

Finally, Richard saw the entire assembly give way.

“Look out!” he yelled.

Pig had relaxed his grip, mesmerized by the collapsing fitting. Richard elbowed him in the stomach with all the strength he could muster and dropped to the ground. He lifted his head and saw the entire assembly explode, sending fragments of metal in all directions.