The Arrival Page 9

  Hona would rather speak on Lee, from the time he met her, he knew the barricade she had up would never fall. It’s quite endearing to him, bringing him to think of the complications of his own daughter who he has never truly understood. They are similar, he finds. “Camila arrived here a few months back, and many of the men wanted to believe that Albastor was employing attractive women to replenish his wicked ways. But the way she presented herself and asked questions caused people to suspect that she was not here for the business of pleasure. No. She was very strange in a sense that she only had one point of interest, and that wasn’t Torbelli.”

  “What was her interest?”

  “Alabastor, and his plans for renovating the entire perimeters beyond Torbelli. The rebel causes, and even some known facts about Peacock when I spoke with her. She was educated and had information that she wanted to deliver to another man called Marvin. But ... Marvin no longer inhibits these parts. Not to my knowledge anyway.”

  “Did um ... Camila have anything on the N.O.?”

  “Did you see that back at the airport?”

  “Hmm. It’s been something I would’ve asked her?” That’s falser than Hona’s declaration that Camila had no interest in Torbelli. She most certainly did, judging by her face being posted in the station. Her whereabouts too, advocate the neighboring Shandi is also a link that Lee feels Camila had taken. But she won’t press her knowledge. She still needed Hona to fill in what gaps he can. And Ringo is another venture that he can also enlighten her upon.

  “N.O. is an organization funded by Albastor. It’s generally what is operating around here in chunks. They deliver what they think is best for the people. So, he says. They give us new hopes of rebuilding ... so Albastor preached. They will profit us in the long run. Most laughed and spat in his direction. I hope that somebody recorded his speech on camera and loaded it onto the internet. It’s a comical oration.”

  “And Camila had no interest in this?”

  “Me and Angelina knew she was a journalist. Not many others recognize that profession out here.”

  “Of course, that’s what she was.” Lee’s phone rings: private number. She airs it and continues. “Camila, most definitely wanted to shine some light on Torbelli. Let me know why you won’t open that can for me?”

  “Lee, Camila has no place to come here. Shandi was when...”

  Lee’s phone ringing. She sighs, and answers it, “Henny...”

  “It’s me. And this time, you won’t hang up on me. I specifically gave you a clear instruction.” Lee tightens her lips and walks up ahead, leaving Hona to check on his own phone and messages. She irks up the path quicker; spotting Madelene’s ranch painted in white on a wooden post carved like an arrow pointing upwards, almost there. Another points back down to Torbelli town center. And a third points east, to where Ringo had told them holds some of the more important people around here. The prices of homes also rise and differ in height and size.

  “You gave me a promotion. And I’m not coming back there empty-handed.”

  “I need you to find Shaka. That’s your assignment and the reason why you were promoted.”

  “What if Camila also comes up on the spectrum of my very vague assignment?”

  “Impossible. She wouldn’t be out there.”

  Lee stops in her tracks, then starts walking with that lump positioned like a killer migraine right smack in the middle of her temple. It leaves, then sinks like a floater down her throat. It’s jammed, why is Henny suggesting that Camila never set foot in Torbelli, then... “Did she get on the wrong flight like us?”

  “If she’s out in Torbell,i then she violated where she was meant to go. You are meant to be north, more than 200 miles away from there and by plane. So was Camilla.”

  “Camilla was here Henny. I saw her photograph in the station. She’s labeled as a missing person.”

  “You what!?”

  “Shandi Town. It’s where I need to head when I find...when Darren shows up.” Lee changes her route of explanation. “We might find some footprints out there.”

  “Shandi town has nothing to do with Shaka.”

  “But it has everything to do with Camila. Isn’t she somehow connected to Shaka?” Lee can hear Hona speaking on the phone and now coming up behind her. She picks up her pace to keep her conversation private. “It can all be a coincidence, but maybe Camila was unearthing information that Shaka and this other cat called Albastor was meddling in. There’s so much happening out here with this N.O. organization. I think, a tiny hunch is that they’re even running over Alabastor. Who knows? Camila could’ve been reporting back with news on that?”

  “Camila was meant to find and write a story on Shaka. Darren was given this part of the briefing: she was a journalist sent to discover this talk on a new bill that was circulating on an illegal trade market. The black market, more like. Very profitable.”

  “And you're telling me this part of the equation now?”

  “You knew this already, Lee. Shaka’s expertise is introducing new ways of working against a foul vote with the introduction of new money.”

  “I can’t leave here, Henny. I need to go to Shandi town and see why Camila went missing. I need your props and green light on uncovering more to her story?”

  “No. Camila isn’t your concern. You’ve done the small procedure of notifying me that she did indeed set foot in Torbelli. And then wandered off to Shandi. I’ll have somebody else look into that.”

  “Somebody else? You have others who know about this?”

  “Shaka: Last word. Final briefing is that there will be no more talk on Camila. I’m working on getting you and Darren out of there. This Ringo is also on my key to discovery. I’ll find what I need to on him as well. Keep safe out there. Lay low. And when you get my next call, it will be with words on how you’ll be leaving. Understood?”

  Lee’s engrossed with how anti-Henny is. “Sure.” She’s surprised that came out and not fuck you, tell me what’s missing out here because it’s not adding up? “I’ll do just that Henny.” He hangs up. Lee still has the phone to her ears.

  She’s remembering Henny’s words that were; Shaka’s expertise is introducing new ways of working against a foul vote with the introduction of new money. “New money,” Lee says this in a long-casted daze whilst she nears and stares at the signpost of Madelene’s ranch. “New money.” Once more she says it, and this time she finds a response that’s walking past her.

  “That’s what they want to introduce.” Hona is now ahead. “New rules. New money. And a new way of life.”

  Lee catches him up, the ranch is slanted at the top, 120-yards away. “Like a bill? Or a note?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm. But wouldn’t that need to go through multiple worldwide channels before approval? The top chiefs would need to dip their hands in that honey, isn’t that correct?”

  “You’re smart Lee Coil. It should. But men often find ways to conceal such things. Don’t they?”

  “They sure do.”

  “That phone call seems to have left you more confused than before?”

  Lee is walking and texting Darren: Call me. Worried about you. “I am. And I’m torn between deciding what is the right thing to do? I don’t like being controlled. But when it comes to respect, I find that when I hold somebody in a high regard, I don’t want to disappoint them.”

  “Angelina.”

  Lee stops texting. “Angelina felt the same way for Camila. There is one thing that I will tell you Lee, and you should soak and relax inside of it. Camila told me before she went missing, and I’m sure it wasn’t by rebels, but ... she said that her reason for being sent out here was to break the story on an illegal trade that involved a highly classified name back in the states. I haven’t heard of him, but she said that a lot of what she had been given was false, and there was more to dig in Torbelli, than where she was originally meant to go. It’s why she diverted and ended up here undercover.”

  “You trust me with
information like that?”

  “I think you’re good at whatever you do. And I haven’t even seen the true extent of what you’re capable of. But please, I need your help in finding Camila? She was ... trying to do a good thing in the end. Help the people out here, and not just herself and career. It’s why I need to find her.”

  Lee finds Hona sincere. “She may not be alive, Hona.”

  “I’d like to know that for sure. I have a responsibility here. And I can’t keep failing the safety of the rare few who come to try and help in the end.”

  Lee puts away her phone as they reach the ranch. The entrance gate has a huge star in the middle that Hona has to open from the other side by stepping one of his foot through the gates gap and leaning to reach. Madelene’s Ranch hangs above it on a rugby post that has the top sealed. The sign swings with the faint wind that blows and makes a creek-creek-creek sound that is quite eerie.

  Madelene’s horses are grazing in the vast field that’s up here. And a few homes lay around in various points; two windows on either side and one main door. They pass as painted white tool sheds capable of hosing a single occupant, and then beyond that is the biggest home that’s two-stories with one main window in the middle, with the roof wide and slanting down like a triangle with the bottom line missing as the rest of the home beneath it is a furnished bronzy brown, with black stripes running down it. A few cars lay parked in front.

  “Madelene and her family live up here. They own this ranch and want to turn it into a touristic attraction. But Albastor has never given his blessing on that. He’d rather the idea came in his name on paper to whoever he answers to.”

  Lee spots Palomino breeds and a few Grullo’s. Some with black and silvery- gray mane’s, others with dark gray coats and muscular backs that trot on healthy heels. Their tails are just as elegant to witness when they stand still and wave as if to say hello to Hona and Lee.

  “Up here seems so out of touch with below. It’s almost like walking into the wild west frontier and seeing that nothing has advanced from that period.”

  “Yeah. She keeps it that way for the sake of vintage. Albastor is very determined that she renovates and make it into something more eye-catching.”

  “I’d say the beauty of it was that it’s so old school.”

  “It’s what we all say. We have our community meetings. But those don’t happen anymore. Would you like to wait here, and I go in and ask Madelene if we can use her beasts?”

  “Yeah. That will be fine.” Hona leaves Lee alone in the field. She walks around a little but keeps away from the horses. She’s never ridden one and would prefer to keep it that way. They pay her very little attention as it is, and then get back to trotting on and conversing with each other in a mutual silence.

  Lee finds their company more peaceful than humans. It’s just the way they move around and answer to nobody unless they have to. They’re their own bosses. And she can work with that attitude. Hona is now knocking on the front door of the home. Lee sees a woman come out of the small home with a bunch of clothes in a basket, she stops and places her fingers on top of her brow to get a bird’s eye view on Lee, and then she screams out, “Help me!”

  Lee freezes. Hona rapidly twists to see a man come out from inside her home and shoots the lady in the back. He shouts, “Don’t!” But Hona’s reaction is way too late, and he spots Lee rushing over with her 2 Kahr’s in hand but not firing as the man scurries back into the home. Lee’s not slowing down, Hona is yelling, “Wait, Lee!”

  But she disregards these words, “Hona, move from that front door!”

  Hona jumps to the side just in time when it opens, and a couple of shots are fired that just about miss him. He starts to run to the side of the home. Another shot fired but he ducks, shimmies to the left and right when they fire again, and to remain unpredictable, he chooses to jump the picket fence of the home; land on his heels and then peddles away whilst Lee gives him some covering fire.

  Ka-pam! Ka-pam! Ka-pam! Lee reloads another magazine, takes hold of the grip and checks on the barrel and sights, before setting off again. Ka-pam! Ka-pam! Ka-pam! Her hits level the guy back indoors and to take cover with apart of his body still visible.

  Lee’s still running to break down that door as Hona’s priority is to check on the woman. He gets there before Lee, gets a hold of the lifeless woman’s arm-pits and drags her as quickly as he can to a spot where the man would not be able to reach: behind the tree of the home.

  Lee reaches the door, kicks it open like boom with her heel and surprisingly with the impact from her running the door falls from the power she puts behind it. Or the door is just weak as hell!? The man opens fire and she quickly jumps behind a sofa that’s next to the window. She didn’t dive, there was no need for heroics. He’s shooting, pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew and Lee’s hopping on her feet with pointed knees to the end of the sofa to see if she can get a reflection of where he’s hiding in the smashed TV through the center.

  He has a machine gun of about 300 rounds; simple range, more succession as the bullets keep spraying Lee into a hunchback of scared-la-drama. He disappears again. Lee peaks a glimpse directly through the reflection of the screen.

  He’s in the bedroom... she can see some movement via the small television. He’s inside the room reloading. Lee takes her chance because she doesn’t want to prolong this session with a man who should know that walls are mainly drywall and plaster, and a couple of bullets will definitely pass-through: judging by how easy that door fell.

  Lee takes on her own bet, aiming for the section of the wall where the man has his back against and is getting ready to see if he can spot her playing peek-a-boo. But she patter-cakes him first: Ka-pam! Ka-pam! – they go through that wall, hit the man in his back who’s startled by being hit once in the middle of his spine closest to his stomach, and the other in the side of his arm when out of panic he revealed himself and gave Lee that clean vantage point.

  He’s now trying to exit the room but Lee breaks in like a scurrying spider and enters that bedroom just before he pulls up that window to climb in. She aims; Ka-pam! and it hits him in his trapezius muscles or beyond. It’s near enough to his shoulders and he stops, before Lee aims the last one in the back of his head.

  “D ... don’t shoot me!” He’s in pain. Those shots Lee fired aren’t killing locations, although there is blood and they’ll hurt like hell. He would’ve lost some function if she had gone for another one. But it will burn-honey-burn, and that’s the point if it went through the bone, as Lee’s practiced to only tear and not permanently damage the target into a full paralysis. Lee can see the tissue disruption, the blood flow, and the disharmony that it’s causing the man.

  He flops to the floor, and Lee wonders how the initial pain will kick in when she shoves him down to the ground, retracts the guns slide and then aims it at his left eye; gets the muzzle straight up into his cornea so he can see how pretty it looks. He drops his machine gun without her having to ask. She kicks it away from him and it bangs against the cream skirting board.

  It’s like a mini dollhouse in here; pink and white walls, duvet’s a shiny pink, the double bed takes up the majority of the room. And the wardrobe is like an upside-down ruler in the corner with a small dresser and lamp with a pink shade on top.

  “You aren’t from around here?” Lee can smell the hair dye on this guy; peroxide, or like nitric acid. Lee has a very keen sense of smell. And this has been recently done. It’s a very dark brown; mocha, and he’s wearing baby blue contacts. “Why the disguise?” The man is dressed like no rebel. He’s wearing all black which resembles a one-piece swag that a janitor would wear with silver pads on his shoulders and four pockets to stack his keys and cards in if he needed to on the front, another two for his pockets to rest inside of by his hips.

  He’s wincing, “Lee Coil ...”

  “Wrong person.”

  “Na ... na.” She can see he wants to pass out. The pain must be traveling. “It’s you. And we
're meant to be keeping a close eye on you and your movements.”

  “I’m happy you’re so willing to talk to this supposed Lee Coil. If Lee was me, she’d say to carry on and tell her everything you know before she kills you?”

  “That woman was just bait. There’s nothing out of the ordinary there.”

  “Oh, there is.” Lee pushes the cold muzzle into his eye. He shuts it. “You didn’t have to kill her.”

  “I obey orders. These people are cattle out here. It’s a disgusting reality.”

  “So, why kill her?”

  “She screamed for help. It would’ve given me time to kill you. Or injure you at most.”

  “And why would you want me dead?”

  “Reasons that go beyond my paycheck,” He bends forward. He’s feeling it in his spine.

  Lee now jams that muzzle into the center of his skull. “I’ll be paying your last rites with this shot. Who wants me dead?”

  “Ask yourself that when you find the journalist?” He bends forward even more, with his shoulder giving him grief and the torn muscle in his shoulder faltering badly. He finds the floor more suitable to lay himself down and bare the burden of pain.

  ...

  Hona checks the woman’s pulse, turns her onto her back and then checks the pupils that are lifeless, then gives the face a quick survey to see if he knows her. No idea. An unknown who must’ve rented one of Madelene’s small homes. Or was given a chance to get back on her feet? Madelene’s a very generous person so, it could be a hot possibility. Sad. She was not much older than his daughter Angelina.

  Hona has seen no more movement from inside the main home. So, he braves a chance of going to this girl’s place where he heard the gunshots, but now all is quiet in there with Lee. He stalks with one foot before the other and reaches the window; popping his head up and seeing a man bleeding on the floor and shaking as if cold, and Lee above him ... mouthing something.

  Hona knocks on the glass, it catches Lee’s attention, and she comes on over to open it. “Lee, are you hurt?”