Hope (4 page)

“Christ, man, there’s a roadblock up ahead, I bet my life on it.”

Carlos reached in the backseat and picked up a small set of binoculars. “When in doubt, zoom in,” he joked, placing the optics to his eyes. “Damn, you’ve got eagle eyes, bro.”

“Here, let me see,” Neal said, taking the binoculars from him and looking. “I knew it. I thought I saw something besides an abandoned car sitting up there.”

Carlos didn’t hesitate to act. He turned the car around and headed south.

“Where to?”

Carlos didn’t reply but instead asked, “Did you see that county road? I can’t remember what it’s called, but I swear we just passed it.”

“Yeah, um, Keystone.”

“We’ll box around and see if the roads on the west are also blocked,” Carlos said.

“Why wouldn’t they be?” Neal questioned.

“There it is,” Carlos said, turning the car hard right and accelerating.

They drove a mile and were fast approaching another major intersection.

“Looks clear,” Neal said.

The flat and even desert terrain made visibility good, but if they could see, so could anyone else.

Without notice Carlos slammed on the brakes. The huge Lincoln came to a screeching halt just at the intersection.

“You see something?” Neal asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Carlos replied, his head facing left.

“What?” Neal asked as his head and eyes scanned for the possible threat.

Carlos turned the wheel hard left and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The car lunged left and spun around until it was in the eastbound lane.

“Where are you going?” Neal exclaimed.

“I’ve got an idea,” Carlos answered as he turned right and stopped just outside a chain-link gate.

Neal looked up and said, “Spreckels Sugar?”

“You see that?” Carlos excitedly said.

“So what?”

“You don’t see what I see?” Carlos asked.

“I see a sugar high in my future, but I’m sure someone has raided this place already.”

“You’re right, I’m sure it has been.”

“What’s going through your mind, Carlos?” Neal asked.

“There’s a very special ingredient you need in order to make sugar from beets,” Carlos said, driving through the open gate.

“Ahh, I got it, water,” Neal said, his eyebrows raised.

“Yep, potable water, and there’s a good chance others may not have thought about it. I bet they kept water in holding tanks, big ones. While we’ve been driving around looking for bottled water, we completely overlooked finding it in places like this,” Carlos said as he drove towards the rear of the property, passing the equipment that once hummed with life. The place was a relic of a time gone by, a testament to man’s ingenuity and scalable manufacturing.

While Carlos’ focus was on finding the tanks, Neal’s attention was on ensuring he returned home safe and alive, but mainly alive.

“Right there, I bet you that’s a holding tank,” Carlos said with glee. He pulled the car alongside a massive tank, the first in a row of three. The tanks were huge, standing thirty-five feet tall with a diameter of at least a hundred and twenty feet.

Not concerned with his own safety, Carlos jumped out of the car and began to race around the tank, looking for anything that would identify it as potable water.

Neal got out, but he scanned the area, looking for anything suspicious, but nothing jumped out. It was obvious that others had been to the plant, but their attention had been focused on the warehouses.

“Bingo!” Carlos hollered from the far side.

Neal made his way to Carlos and found him with his arms outstretched, attempting to hug the tank wall. Just above him was a large sign that read POTABLE WATER.

“But is there anything in them?” Neal asked.

Carlos’ face scrunched, as he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He raced to a small valve he had seen earlier. It was nothing more than a simple ball valve that teed off a much larger pipeline coming from the base of the tank. He turned it slowly and instantly water gushed out. Carlos cupped his hands and brought his nose to the water. “Smells fine.”

Neal stepped up behind him with anticipation.

Carlos pressed his eyes closed and sipped it.

“Well?” Neal asked.

Before he opened his eyes, Carlos sang out, “It’s good. Hell, it’s better than good; it’s the best water I’ve ever tasted.”

Neal placed his hands under it and cupped a mouthful of water. Carlos was correct, it was good, straight from the deep aquifers that lay beneath the old desert. “There has to be more places like this. We just gave ourselves months if not years of water.”

Carlos looked at each tank and said, “These have to be forty-thousand-gallon tanks. I’m not sure if they’re full—heck, I bet they’re not—but we have water, my friend.”

“But how do we transport it back? Do we come here daily with water jugs?” Neal asked.

“No, that’s small fry. We need a tanker or a water bull that we can tow,” Carlos answered.

Neal looked at the Lincoln and said, “We could use a truck too.”

“That old girl can tow anything. She has a big ole V8 in her,” Carlos proudly declared.

“That may be, but any significant weight on the rear end will bottom the car out.”

“Shit, you’re right. Well, in the meantime we’ll just come here daily, fill up the biggest jugs we can find, and if we come across a running truck, we’ll take it.”

“We don’t take anything from anyone, maybe we trade,” Neal said, reminding Carlos of the pact they had made early on not to steal from others. They fully believed in salvage rights, but theft was not an option.

Carlos squinted and said, “The code, I remember.”

“We have to maintain our integrity as best we can,” Neal again reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s fill up some jugs now and get home. We need to celebrate.”

“If it were not for hopes, the heart would break.”
– Thomas Fuller

Guatay, CA

The door to her eight-by-eight room creaked open, bringing in the glow of the late afternoon.

Charlotte naturally scurried towards the corner and cradled her knees to her chest in fear of who might step through.

Drew, the man who so far had offered kind words and a gentle touch, walked in and stopped two feet from her. “Hi, Charlotte.”

She looked at him with her wary eyes but didn’t reply to his greeting.

To appear less ominous and frightening, Drew lowered himself and squatted. “I got you something.”

Charlotte looked but saw nothing.

“Do you want to see it?”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Hope told me you’d want it, so I found it,” Drew said as he reached into his jacket and produced Charlotte’s diary. He held it in his hand but didn’t offer it to her.

Charlotte’s eyes grew twice their size at the sight of it.

“I also found a pen and a pencil, not sure which you preferred,” Drew said with a smile.

Charlotte sat up as tears began to flow.

Seeing this, Drew extended his arm with the diary so she could take it.

As swift as a cobra, Charlotte smacked it out of his hand. “Why, why did you take it?”

Drew recoiled from her response. “I don’t understand.”

“I left it at the house for my mom to find. I left it there on purpose so she’d find it and then come find us!”

“But Hope said -”

“I don’t care what she said. She’s a stupid little girl!”

“I was only trying to help.”

Laughter erupted from the hallway beyond.

Drew craned his head and hollered, “Shut up!”

“Fucking moron!” a voice hollered back.

“Take it back, take it back and put it where you found it!” Charlotte screamed.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? You picked it up, now go take it back.”

Drew inched closer to comfort her but was stopped when she kicked him.

“Leave me alone.”

“I was only trying to help, nothing more. Hope told me you’d want it.”

“If you want to help, you’ll take it back and leave it exactly where I left it.”

A man came to the doorway. “Drew, enough of this good-guy bullshit.”

Drew stood up and walked over to the man.

Charlotte couldn’t quite make out the man Drew was talking to, but his voice was familiar. In fact, it sounded like the man her father was talking with just before being shot. She leaned to one side, but still he was obscured by the shadows.

Both men mumbled and Drew turned to walk back. The other man stood for a moment then walked away as fast as he had appeared.

Drew approached Charlotte and assumed his crouching position a few feet from her. “Charlotte, do you know why we came to your house that day?”

“To kill my dad.”

“No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Then why?”

Drew opened his mouth, but no words came out. He deliberately paused and thought just how he’d phrase what he was about to say. “Your father, he was friends with Tony.”

“Who’s Tony?”

“Oh, Tony, he’s my boss, the man who was just here.”

Charlotte leered at him and snapped, “He was the man who killed him.”

“Yes, yes, he did, but he had good reason.”

“What did my dad do to deserve being killed?”

Drew could see the anger rising in Charlotte, so he tried to stem it with something she’d want. “How about we make a deal, huh? How about you tell me something, and I’ll let you see your sister, heck, I’ll even make sure you two live together.”

The mere mention of Hope brought Charlotte to her knees. “I want to see my sister.”

“I know you do, so let’s make that happen, but I need you to help me first. You help me, I’ll help you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Your dad and my boss were old friends—”

Charlotte cut him off and said, “That’s not true. I never saw your boss but once before that day.”

Drew chuckled and said, “How about you close your mouth so I can speak? There’s a lot about your father you’re not aware of. Maybe he wasn’t the type of friend who came over for Sunday dinners, but I can assure you they both knew each other and had a few drinks now and then together.”

“But—”

This time it was Drew who silenced her. “Ssh, let me finish. Your dad was Tony’s CPA; he helped Tony manage his money before all this happened. He did a good job, your dad, hell, Tony really liked him a lot, but then all this stuff happened, and just as fast as the lights went out, Tony’s cache of gold went missing. Now that made Tony a bit angry, as gold became even more valuable.”

“My dad didn’t take it.”

“You sure?”

“No, he wouldn’t do that; my dad didn’t steal. He was a good person,” Charlotte insisted.

Drew again chuckled and said, “It seems that we always find out who people really were after they die, and I hate to break your heart, but your dad wasn’t the good guy you thought he was.”

“Don’t talk about him that way. He was a good dad; he was a good person.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was good to you and your sister, and he was really good at running the books. That’s why Tony hired him.”

“Shut up, just shut up.”

“Do you want to see your sister or not?” Drew asked, his temperament taking a turn.

She nodded.

“Good, then tell me where your father hid the gold.”

“I don’t know anything about any gold.”

“Are you sure?”

“My dad wouldn’t steal. You’re lying.”

Drew stood up and stretched. “I can’t squat like that anymore for any real length of time; it just cuts off the circulation.” He looked at Charlotte and genuinely felt sorry for her and wanted to ensure their safety, but he wasn’t sure if he could. “I’m gonna go now. If you remember anything, please call the guard and have them come get me. Will you do that?”

“When can I see my sister?”

“When you tell me where the gold is hidden,” Drew replied before turning away.

“I told you, I don’t know where any gold is. My dad wouldn’t steal.”

Drew stopped at the door and turned, “Charlotte my sweet girl, you didn’t really know your father, did you? He was the accountant who helped Anthony Gonzalez, one of the biggest cartel bosses in the Southwest, launder his drug money. My sweet, sweet Charlotte, your father was the man who helped Tony become legit, but before he kept the books for him, he ensured the hit men were paid and the smugglers were taken care of. I’d say your dad wasn’t the good man you think he was. We all liked him, he was a funny guy, but don’t mistake his tenderness with you for an inability to steal.”

Charlotte’s mouth hung open in shock.

“I really want to help you, I want to make sure you stay safe, but I won’t be able to help you if you won’t help me. Think about that,” Drew said then exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“When you say a situation or a person is hopeless, you are slamming the door in the face of God.”
– Charles L. Allen

El Centro, CA

Like the many days before, Neal found Carlos standing next to his car. This time the dour or solemn look on his face was replaced with a jovial one.

“Good morning!” Carlos happily said.

“Good morning. Ha, look at you, all happy and raring to go,” Neal said, tossing his gear into the passenger seat.

“Because it’s a glorious day,” Carlos said, slapping Neal on the back and jogging to the driver’s seat. He slid behind the wheel and turned the car over.

Neal waited for Carlos to put the car in gear, but nothing happened.

“Everything okay?” Neal asked.

“Natalie and I had a great chat last night. We’ve made a decision, and I wanted to ask you. It’s really important.”

“So she’s decided to give it up?”

“Ha, I wish, she’s so damn temperamental, all worried about getting pregnant. It also doesn’t help to have her old man living in the house.”

“How do you deal with that?” Neal asked, referring to the lack of intimacy. The issue had been one that had plagued Carlos for a bit, but Natalie’s fear of bringing another child into this world prevented her from wanting to have sex with Carlos.

“I don’t like it, but she’ll come around one day. She just needs to feel safe. She does, you know, go down, so I’m taken care of, but let’s not spoil what I have to share with you.”