Hearts' Desires

by Anke Napp

  “Exactly the words I should have expected from someone like you!” Alison hissed back.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You think you’re better than me because I’m a not a big star yet and from the Bronx?”

  “Because you have no discipline!”

  “And you have no heart at all!”

  Alison’s own anger bristled dangerously close to the surface. “I’m done talking – I have nothing to say to you.” She turned away, determined to leave the girl standing there.

  But what was left of Lauren’s self control was gone now. She had wanted to have it out with Alison for a long time. “You’re a cold-hearted, dried up old bitch!”

  Alison whipped around, and Lauren shouted: “…Who enjoys hurting a great, gorgeous guy like Vance!”

  That was enough. “Well you didn’t waste any time soothing his pain, did you? You slept with him, admit it!”

  “So what?! You didn’t want him – you had your chance!”

  Alison’s anger flared beyond the point of no return. “You little whore!”

  She reached out, slapped the young woman. A second later, her reason kicked in again. And she took a step back. Lauren stared at her, too shocked to retaliate.

  “I am… sorry…” was all Alison was able to say. Then, she ran out of the house, where her flight came to an abrupt end through a kidnapper standing guard, of course.

  Lauren was still standing there, not sure how to react. The ugly possibility occurred to her she might have killed her career.

  Alison cowered on the ground outside, curled up in the vain attempt to make herself invisible. The absolute worst thing had happened, the one thing she had been so careful to avoid all her life: she had made a spectacle of herself in front of others, humiliated herself; she had acted like a moron. Everyone had seen it, including the rebel soldiers. And there was nowhere to run, to hide, to somehow get away from the scene of her meltdown. Covering her face, Alison cried. She didn’t care anymore if she survived this ordeal or not. On the contrary, dying sounded pretty good right now.

  “Alison?” Vance’s voice reached her, low and gentle, while his hands closed around her shoulders. “Come inside.”

  “Go away.”

  “We are all under a lot of stress, we are tired and hungry. We all know neither you nor Lauren meant what you said or did.”

  “Was she good in bed?” She snapped, bitterly.

  “Alison. Please…”

  “So it’s true,” she murmured under tears. “Oh God, and I… I…” She wanted to push him away, but felt too exhausted.

  Vance cursed silently. This was the worst possible way for Alison to have learned about his indiscretion. “I screwed up – I wasn’t thinking, it just happened.”

  “That’s the most pitiful excuse I heard for a long time!”

  “Alison, I know it’s no excuse”, he whispered, “but I …”

  “Hey, you two!” The man standing guard stepped up to them, waving his weapon. “Get back into the house, to the others!”

  Vance rose, dragging Alison up with him. The kidnapper shoved the barrel of his machine gun against his side. “Move!”

  Time was crawling along. Vance sat next to Jake and watched the barely changing ’play’ their kidnappers gave on the spartan stage in front of them, dozing off occasionally from the boredom and heat.

  “You know, I was just dreaming about a giant Pepperoni Pizza,” Jake said. “Like the one my Aunt used to make. I haven’t thought about her for years! And now…” He half closed his eyes. “I can almost smell that pizza, man…”

  “Yeah, it’s funny the things we think about in a situation like this,” Vance replied. “All that stuff I thought I had forgotten… All that stuff I didn’t want to remember.”

  He turned to look at Alison. She knelt near them, her head bowed, her tangled hair covering her face like a messy curtain. She made no attempt to push it back. It seemed as if all the fight had gone out of her. All her carefully erected defenses had been ripped from her and she looked vulnerable and defeated. Vance felt the lump in his stomach grow, and hunger was not the only cause. He hated feeling helpless, condemned to watching people he cared for suffer!

  “When we filmed the second part of “Desert Heat” last year, I never thought I’d end up in a hostage situation for real.”

  He leaned back against the remains of the wooden door frame and stared up into the sky. Some birds flew above them, unimpressed by the human business. It looked as peaceful as it could be. No sign of activity from the police.

  It was afternoon again, when Max leaned down to Vance and whispered:

  “We have to do something! Nora and her child are going to die if she doesn‘t get to a hospital soon!”

  “What are we supposed to do?!?” Vance’s voice sounded raspy from thirst and the ever present dust and he had to suppress a cough. “We are surrounded by a bunch of desperate men with way too many loaded guns!”

  “We can take the ones closest to us, and then the police can take care of the rest.”

  “You practically did the same thing in ‘Desert Heat’, remember?” Jake joined Max.

  “You can‘t be serious!”

  From the outside, the police’s speaker squeaked again, trying to initiate negotiations. One of the rebels answered with a blind shot. Others yelled curses. They got more nervous with every passing hour – of course.

  Vance raked his fingers through his short cropped hair. The thought of a cold shower flashed through his head. A cold shower, a cigarette, a cold beer, something decent to eat… Good Lord, a cigarette! That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?!

  “We can do it, Vance! I remember every detail! We did 20 takes of that scene! It will be in my head until I die!” continued Jake.

  “You’re both nuts! That was a crappy B-movie! And the only reason the plan worked was because they wanted their bad guys to survive for a potential sequel!”

  “Quiet!” The guard barked. For a moment, the barrel of his gun moved back and forth between the three hostages as if he was trying to decide who to make an example of and shoot. Slowly, the men got up and went back to the others.

  Lauren lay curled up on the floor. Thabo was crouching next to her like a watchdog. When he felt unobserved, he reached over and lightly stroked her hair.

  “We’ll have the element of surprise in our favor! Think about it, Vance!” Max wasn’t ready to give up.

  Vance glanced over the silhouettes of their keepers. They moved like black shadows, framed by the branches and leaves of the trees. An almost surreal scene with a sinister beauty. Like a Film Noir, he thought and wondered if these thoughts were brought on by hunger, his craving for cigarettes or the omnipresent fatigue.

  Crap, he thought once again. His eyes were drawn to Alison. Was she crying? He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her everything would be ok, to make her feel safe! She looked up and their eyes met. Not everything had been blown away, Vance realized at that moment. Only the superfluous. He loved Alison. And he wanted to see her happy. He wanted her out of this! He did not want to see her pride, strength and beauty any further diminished by these rebels!

  He steadied himself and looked at Max and Jake. “Tell me your plan!”

  “So you’re on my side in this?”

  “I’m on the side of coming out alive.”

  “Jake will provide the diversion. He told me about the scene in ‘Desert Heat’. It can be done, if we’re fast. You, me and Thabo -”

  “Leave the kid out of this!” Vance hissed. “Is that clear? – Now, go on!”

  “We’ll take position at strategic points, here and over there, in proximity to their truck. You’ll have to attack the one in front of the house, get his weapon. Then we’ll provide cover for the others, and hopefully the police will seize their chance and break through from the other side.”

  “This is never going to work!”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Max? What are you talking ab
out?” Alison had gotten to her feet and stepped closer, searching the eyes of her old colleague, then Vance’s. Vance sighed and shook his head, hearing Max telling a blatant lie. It did not feel right leaving her out - on the other hand, how could they tell her? He did not want her to be more stressed than she already was. What a mess!

  Why the hell aren’t the police doing anything? Don’t they have any snipers? What are they waiting for? Does someone have to die…

  Vance looked across the clearing and back to the guard, who was talking to one of the other rebels. A nasty headache hammered behind his forehead. The rebel watching over them on this side was rather young. The ragged uniform was far too big for him.

  Vance compared the layout here to the set of the sequence in Desert Heat.

  This is just crazy! I’m an actor, not an action hero, he thought. I have never shot at anyone. I don’t want to kill anyone!

  “Vance, are you with us or not?” Max’ low voice intruded his ponderings.

  He took a deep breath, what ended up in a cough. “When I say my line from ‘Desert Heat’”, Vance whispered without looking to his colleague, “…we start. Let's talk the sequence through again…”

  The three conspirators were waiting. One of their guards had just walked away. More rebels were milling around next to the cars, using them as cover in case the police decided to attack. That left the youngster with his machine gun in front of the house as most urgent problem. He looked tired, too, and suppressed a yawn. Where was the Commander? One minute ago, Vance had still spotted his red scarf between the trees. There were harsh voices from the other side of the clearing, but he couldn’t see anything. New negotiations? Dissent between the kidnappers? Whatever was going on outside, they couldn’t wait any longer.

  Vance’s view crossed Max’. Then he nodded and the production coordinator inclined his head in response. Jake was alert as well. Vance felt as if anyone looking at them with a sharp eye would notice their nervous tension right away, but the young guard just stood there, unaware.

  Now or never!

  Vance shut his eyes and tried to imagine that all this was nothing but a set and stuntmen and fake ammo. Then he said aloud: “Rob, I know when a glass is empty!”

  “So we smash it!” Jake gave the correct answer.

  With a grin that seemed somewhat weak, he left the house and was out of sight a moment later. The others could hear him starting his little performance.

  “Hey, you! Yes! I want to talk to someone in charge! I’ve had enough!”

  His old friend wasn’t doing bad, Vance thought, considering that Jake usually went through great lengths to avoid trouble – except trouble with women. A moment later, the guard shouted back, Jake barked some profanity and acted like a guy who had been pushed too far. Two other rebels moved in the direction of the commotion, ready to deal with the troublemaker.

  A last glance and a small nod to Max, then Vance walked out, as if he was trying to see what the racket was about. There were about four meters between him and the young, tired guard. Three…

  Behind him, Max approached his own target.

  Vance lunged forward, throwing the unsuspecting guard to the ground. But the surprise lasted only for a second. Behind him, moans, angry shouts and far too many shots merged into a sound track of doom. Vance was still on the ground, wrestling with the young rebel, when a series of shots splashed up the sand and dirt. He knew without a doubt their plan had gone wrong. Another rebel ran up and viciously kicked him, knocking him away from his opponent. Vance heard Alison cry out. He blinked against the dust, and saw into the barrel of the rebel’s gun, pointing down at him.

  Vance reacted on pure instinct, driven by the strongest force – self preservation. His right hand clasped the metal of the other man’s weapon; he gave it a hard shove, jumping to his feet at the same time.

  While the rebel tried to regain his footing, Vance lunged for cover. The next thing he knew, he felt as if a sledge hammer had been slammed against his shoulder. He had been hit. The pain was worse than anything he had ever experienced. He fell backwards. There was a strange roaring in his ears, accompanied by overwhelming nausea.

  Shit… Worst performance ever, old man…

  He tried to lift his head and look for the others. He had only one thought – Where was Alison.

  He wanted to shout out to her over the roaring in his head, but suddenly, everything went dark.

  Alison saw Vance fall, saw the blood pooling under his body, and realized at that moment, the worst moment of her life, that all the things she had been so concerned about – her career, her control, appearances, fear and distrust – didn’t matter. Vance was the only thing that mattered to her, and now it looked like she was losing him, he was bleeding to death in front of her eyes and she would never have the chance to tell him how she felt!

  Without thinking about any danger to herself she ran towards him. One of the rebels stopped her with a harsh blow from the butt of his gun. She landed on her knees and elbows and a gun was pressed against her back. Her body hurt all over, but she barely noticed it! Vance needed her! She looked around frantically for the others. The rebel commander had hold of Jake; one of the soldiers had a gun trained on Thabo. Nora was still in the house, for sure terrified by gun fire and shouts, and not knowing what had become of her friends; Lauren crouched in the entrance, pale and shocked. A few yards away from her, Max was sprawled in the dirt, face down. Alison had no doubt that he was dead. But Vance was alive, he had to be. Hadn’t he just moved? She couldn’t be sure – he was laying awfully still now.

  Desperation overcame her fear and shoving away the gun still pointed at her she shouted: “Let me go and help him!”

  “Shut up!”

  Alison was dragged to her feet despite her struggle and pushed forward. The police speakers demanding surrender added to the pandemonium. Alison noticed the approaching police force between the trees and ruined building parts of the old farm. They had overwhelmed the rebel guards and closed in from the rear.

  Then she was pushed past Vance. She turned her head keeping her eyes fixed on him, trying to hold on to this one tenuous connection between them as if the view had the force of an anchor.

  Lauren cowered behind the door frame shaking from shock and terror. The kidnappers seemed to have forgotten about Nora and her. She wanted to get up and do something, use the opportunity - to run, or hide, but she was too exhausted. She was angry about herself and desperate because she was not able to help. Despite having grown up in a pretty rough part of town, she had never seen anyone getting shot, let alone killed. Poor Max… And what about Vance, would he die as well? It looked bad, really bad.

  He can’t die, she thought. This can’t be happening! It would be so unfair! He still has so many years of life, love and passion ahead of him!

  From behind, the young woman heard a weak moan. “Lauren? Is that you?... Help me… please…”

  In her shock, Lauren had completely forgotten Nora and her childbirth!

  “I don’t know what to do!” Her words sounded slurred because her teeth where chattering. “Do you understand? I don’t know anything!”

  If only Thabo were here!

  “Help…me…” Nora grabbed Lauren’s hand with cold fingers.

  “Nora, I don’t know what to do!” Lauren repeated, wiping her face. “Fucking shit! I hate this place!”

  “Let the hostages go, and you may walk out of here alive!” the police speaker squeaked again.

  “Fuck you!” roared the Commander, who was still holding a gun to Jake‘s head. “You’re going to get us some gasoline and let us cross the border to Mozambique or these people will die! Got it?”

  The next second, a bullet found its mark and he fell with a loud groan. Jake dropped down as well, trying not to be a target for either side. More shots were fired.

  The man who had been dragging Alison along let go of her and dove for cover behind a tree, bringing his gun up to return fire. She seized the moment and ra
n back to Vance, dropping to her knees besides him.

  “Hold on!” she whispered, trying to lift his head into her lap. “Vance, do you hear me?”

  He didn’t respond. Alison trembled. God, there was blood, so much blood, everywhere! Tears ran down her cheeks and fell on her hands and his face.

  “I’m so sorry, Vance…”

  “Alison…” Getting her name out had taken all his strength for now. He felt that weak. And he was so tired, even the pain was vanishing. He was drifting…

  “Vance, stay with me.”

  Alison…

  Gunfire again crisscrossed the clearing and the ruins. Alison threw herself across Vance to shield him with her body. “I love you Vance, do you hear me?… You have to hear me, you just have to…”

  She felt something touching her hair. Looking up, she saw a butterfly just spiraling up. How strange. This wasn’t the time for butterflies!

  “Alison?”

  She felt his voice more than actually hear it amidst the noise of barked orders and gunfire. Bending down again, she sensed his eyelashes flutter over her cheek just as the wings of the butterfly before.

  “Will you … marry me?” Vance whispered in her ear.

  Even in their desperate situation she had to laugh through her tears! What timing this man had!

  “I will!” She had to struggle to get the words out. “Just as soon as we get out of here! You have to hold on!”

  „I’ll be ok… Just … a scratch.” There was so much he wanted to tell her, but her image above him started to fade into gray and then black.

  Lauren almost jumped up when a hand touched her back. She whirled around and was face to face with Thabo. He gave her a reassuring smile and then knelt down next to Nora.

  “Don’t worry Nora, we’ll get through this together, trust me! Take deep breaths!”

  Lauren stared at him. “Where have you been?” Without looking up from his task, he answered: