The Arrival

by Riley Moreno

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 1

  “Wha ... what ... what should I do here, Darren?” Lee was gasping because she had rushed over immediately when Darren called out, “Ringo mentioned Shaka!” She was now at the point where her legs and lower body were on the outdoors, and her head and upper half slanted in the doorway of the motel with Ringo looking like he’s ready to perform involuntary sit-ups.

  Lee paused in-between the doorway because a few of the workers in the motel were forming an arch and looking traumatized by what was happening. She knew this wasn’t how she wanted to get things done here.

  They were uttering words in their language, almost sounding creole and Portuguese all at once. The 4 female workers looked to the proprietor who was watching Lee for some help in this situation. The owner gave a pleading look, almost to say that this is bad for business and she disapproved.

  Ringo’s pants weren’t literally down, but Darren has the gun’s muzzle directed at the point where no man wanted to lose that fertility tool. Ringo was shielding his man-bits, and so Darren raised it to the temple of his forehead. Ringo then protected his brow with both palms, “you heard me wrong! You heard me wrong!” A shot to his temple was more valued than the nerves that would be splattered if he was to take it to the pelvic area.

  Darren then shifted the gun to various non-lethal zones that wouldn’t kill him, he’d hope. He stopped at the knee caps, switching between them as if choosing which one was his favorite.

  Ringo shakily does the Newton’s cradle with his head momentously having a dance with Darren’s moving gun. It would be comical if it was a theatrical performance, but at the same time, Lee comes over and breaks the union by snatching the gun off Darren and then placing out a hand for Ringo to grab onto and get back onto his feet.

  As Ringo stands up, Darren’s glancing at her like, what the fuck!? And Lee’s disregarding them both and heading to the check-in desk. The proprietor’s yellower than a lemon skin. Most people, when scared shitless, go white, but this is the first time Lee’s seen jaundice yellow on a person. “We don’t know any Shaka here! No. No. No Shaka come here.” She even aims to bring out a cash box from underneath the desk.

  Lee puts down Darren’s gun by the telephone on the desk. And this stops the lady in her tracks with the staff gasping in shock like a cue card told them to. “We just want to book two single rooms.” Lee maintains a tranquil voice; steady eye contact, and no shiftiness. She wants the woman to relax. “It was just a misunderstanding. Right, Darren?”

  Lee doesn’t hear a word from him. And turns around to see Darren stupefied with Ringo edging closer and closer to the main door like he wants to make a break for it! But Darren snaps out of his muddle and clasps onto Ringo’s arm. Ringo looks to Lee for help as he drags him over to the desk to join Lee. “You heard what I said, right.”

  “I did.” Lee and Darren both look to the proprietor. That question wasn’t addressed for her to answer.

  “Ringo is just an ordinary man. No trouble. No nothing. Goodman. Good, good, good man.” She pats Ringo on the head like a small boy. “I vouch that. I vouch.” The staff nod eagerly for Lee and Darren to take their word on that. “Please, no harm come to him.”

  “Misunderstanding.” Lee wonders if they understand her as she looks to them all in the room. Their English is good. But ... it seems a little off charter. “We just want to book a room?”

  The proprietor glances at Ringo. “Will you hurt he?”

  “No. But we do need to talk to him. Friendly chat. No trouble.”

  A few of the tree-cutting men come in and inquire about the ruckus, “Problem?” They ignore Ringo, Lee, and Darren. They only care for the startled party goers in this motel.

  “No. No problem!” The lady gives a false smile and they buy it. “Going to show guest to their room.”

  ...

  Darren’s escorting Ringo into his room. They chose his because it’s the first one that Esmerelda shows them. It’s a nice single room with gray wallpaper and a cream ceiling. The furniture is a milky beige including the duvet and pillows. Plenty of light comes through the two windows that are at least 100-centimetres apart, with a small 3-door dresser in the middle, and long white incense sticks in a vase on top.

  “Should I show you your room?” She turns and asks Lee.

  “No. What number is it?”

  “Number 5.” She drops the keys into Lee’s palms. “Here is key. Please promise not to hurt him? We no interfere with strangers here and their business. But Ringo good man.”

  “Nothing will happen. Just talk. Simple talk.”

  “I like your face. I trust. I trust.” Unfortunately, Darren doesn’t get the same treatment of words, just a fearful glance and then the lady is out the door closing it shut. Lee and Darren can sense that the woman is standing outside the door. Or will get somebody. They can’t afford to assume, so Darren brings Ringo into the ensuite toilet, doesn’t push him, just a slight shove, and then closes it. Then they hear the footsteps on the outside of the room depart.

  Darren keeps his voice low, “Lee, code red. Code Blue. We need some sort of indication to help us communicate clearly.”

  “You’re damn right we do!” Lee lowers her voice now. She got too heated. “How can you just go all Miami cop blues on his ass without realizing this is a covert situation!? Now, at least five people and some very dodgy tree-cutters know that we’ve caused a stir. Not the way I wanted it to be done. And you made us look like cops! Like cops, Darren! What was going through that noggin?” Lee jams the air with her index finger as if it’s his temple she’s drilling a hole through.

  “It’s the way it happened. And the way he came out with it.”

  “How did it happen?”

  Darren recalls the memory, “Well, you went off to speak with the tree-cutters. And I placed down our luggage with the help of Ringo. A few of the staff were there to greet us. And the proprietor was smiling falsely at me. I feel she doesn’t like me much. So, I go to the desk with Ringo and spot that he’s nervous and edgy.”

  “Everything alright, Ringo?”

  “I ... Now that you’re here. I don’t need to stay and check-you-in.”

  “We’d hope to speak with you.” I was surprised by his eagerness to run off and leave. “Even show us around a little more. We don’t know this place.”

  “You will have to learn on your own. I have a family, wife. I can’t be seen with strangers. Rebels will come for me.”

  The proprietor and staff were all tensing their bodies as he spoke. No hushed voice either from Ringo. They all felt the same way. The owner got out a leather glossed wide-spread diary that already had our names down. “I see you lat–”

  I grabbed the top of his shoulder instantly, “You can’t leave.”

  He argued back. “I can. And shall. No need to be seen with you no more.” He tossed me off like a piece of salad. The staff in the room was hurling back without moving from their spots. The owner was just about to pick up the phone to dial but by then, my gun was just about to come out because I had heard Ringo yell, “Call Shankana. Get him here!”

  Then I brought my gun out, elbowed him upright from underneath his chin and clasped his neck and forced him to get down on the floor, knees first. And then for him to lie on his back. The owner refused to make that call. And that’s when I called out to you that he mentioned the name Shaka.

  “Darren, Shankana is not Shaka!”

  “It could be another n
ame that he goes by?”

  “He has one name.”

  “No. Henny said that he goes by many names.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since Shaka was a made-up name. It’s not his real one.”

  Lee sighs whilst looking at the bathroom and poor Ringo. “Regardless of that, you’ve fucked up here. Big time. A little wise move would’ve been to let him call this Shankana. You have no known reason to why he asked the owner to call.”

  “Well, let’s find out.”

  Lee stops Darren by getting in front of him just as he reaches the door. His hand didn’t reach the doorknob. “Darren. Slow down alright?” Lee holds onto the doorknob to stop Darren’s own hand reaching for it. “We know nothing about this place or people. We need contacts. Time. A point of trust. I don’t feel safe here and I’ve just arrived. Something in the air here. I need more time to put a ring on my finger. Do you understand?”

  “I understand that I want to get this over and done with.”

  “So, do I. But not like this. That’s not how you find somebody.” Lee twists her neck, places her right ear to the door. “Ringo ... Ringo?” Nothing comes from within. “You in there?”

  Lee turns the knob and opens the door. There is no sign of Ringo, but an open window which Lee and Darren rush to investigate and look out of, only to find a clear sight to a construction site with a sign smacked right in the middle saying legally owned land.

  “I didn’t see the window in here. Did you?” Lee asks Darren.

  “I closed the door too soon. Oh well. We can follow those footmarks. He sure is a fast runner judging by that trail he’s left.”

  “No. No. The first thing we do is sleep. Get some rest. And let it die down. We don’t need to be on anybody’s radar today. Ringo can wait. We’ll catch him up soon.”

  Chapter 2

  “Damn mosquitos.” Lee gets up from the sleep that never happened and goes to open a complimentary pack of water that is given to each arriving guest in their bedrooms. She takes the bottle and uncaps the red lid and downs some water thirstily. One thing she can appreciate is the fan above her, that swirls an orgasm of evaporative cooling that she stands under and lets it invisibly finger-glide over her dreads.

  It’s still super-hot to Lee! She drinks more water. Click-click-click, the lever that gives off a stronger current with every ke-kut sound it makes. She lazies around in a black and gray sports bra doing a few bench dips on the edge of the bed with her arms slanted behind her lower back, hands pointed towards her and enough space to bend down until her arms make a 90-degree right angle and her elbows push out.

  Lee does 20 reps, and then gets up to spread her legs apart evenly to do some squats, 50 and then wipes her brow and drinks some more water. When feeling uncomfortable, workout! Which is her motto that keeps the brains running and the fluids in her body from becoming irregular. She opens up a window and gives the mosquito spray a shake before spraying it all around her - and on the walls where she sees at least 4 miniature blood-sucking demons. She coughs, as she tastes the bug spray aroma and sticks out her tongue like bleurgh! To not choke.

  Right now, Lee could do with washing her face. She’s feeling far too sweaty. She extends her palms on the doorknob and she’s twisting it but stops when she hears the sound of a gustier wind that comes from when a window is open. She remembers closing it before so that shouldn’t be the case and...pow!

  The door swings open and trips Lee backward. She’s immediately reaching for an empty wash bowl that she has noticed just seconds ago, next to the bathroom door and launches it at the figure cloaked in black shorts and an even darker hoody.

  Lee doesn’t move quick enough because he catches the heaved bowl and chucks it back at her which she blocks with her forearm in time. But the figure used that as a ploy and is now banging two large stones together which crack-crack-crack-crack-and-cracks once more until he spreads his arms out to the extent of a crucifixion and lunges to have Lee’s head right in-between the smashing!

  Lee’s ducking, palms on the floor and then spinning, performing a leg sweep to swipe him down from glory! It engages with him as he tries to jump over Lee to avoid this attack, but she hits his calves with her raised leg sweep and he goes darting back with the stones resolutely clutched in his hands, then rolls over to his left with Lee who does the same as he pounds down like a judge’s gavel: bam-bam-bam-bam! And misses every time by just a fraction.

  Lee’s run out of rolling space, but he’s close. Lee’s now got her upper body up and the man swings like he’s performing the hammer throw toss without letting go which makes Lee switch over onto her palms and frantically do the crawling crab-walk backward as she makes it her mission to reach the bed that is in close proximity.

  The man’s scrambling to catch her as he swipes from left to right, and then tries to aim for her toes which prompts Lee to start bouncing back and kicking out at him with the bottom heel of her feet.

  Her head hits the foundation of the bed, but Lee’s made it! And now she’s fiddling underneath ... trying to find the box that contains her gun. The guy’s thrown aside the rocks and is now trying to pull at both her legs to apply an asphyxiation hold, dragging down on her pajama top but having a struggle because Lee’s thrashing all around the world with her legs. She has to because the back of her hand has just bashed against the box and she needs to keep him at bay long enough.

  He’s a strong lad. He gives an almighty tug, and Lee’s dragged further away from the box but thinks to fuck it and knocks the box out from underneath the bed, friskily takes off the lid but finds her wrist is being strangled to the point of being unable to move. And no-no-no! he climbs on top and then has the other hand trying to constrict air through strangulation.

  Lee’s panting and kicking her knees up at his crotch area. But his hold is strong. Her blood flow is lessening, and her eyes are bulging inch-by-inch. The carotid arteries and veins need some time to think things through. They can still reject the pressure he’s applying, but she’s squirming, and at the same time, struggling to both free her wrist and neck. It’s becoming apparent that her eyes want to close. But she won’t let them.

  Think Lee. Think! It’s what she says to herself as her right-hand pats the floor for a time-out. Her right hand is still free! She has a good right hook. She could use that later. But right now, Lee manages to claw at his cheek annoyingly to try and get his attention on the left side.

  Minus the spent energy that he’s taken from her, Lee is doing enough for the man to remove his hand from her wrist and go double-mondo on that slimline neck of hers. It burns. Oxygen levels are sinking. Her brain is choking. Everything around her seems to be shrinking. Darren comes to her mind. Darren comes right up to her face from the first time they met. She could tell he was different. That there may be something of an intimacy. Oh well. No longer. No need to think about him. It’s getting a little dark. How long has he been strangling? She finds that all her frapping and flaying is meaninglessly dying away.

  But she’s sure she hears the door. Then the fingers around her neck loosen immediately as she coughs and splutters. Gasps, and then finds her fingers and hands are shaking uncontrollably from the shock. Her vision is impaired, the room is still darkly lit. The light is switched on now. But her eyesight ... she can’t make out who it is that’s holding the gun? Once...twice... third time luckily is the shots that are fired. And then a deadpan thump. Which is followed by some running footsteps into her room.

  “Shit.” Lee groggily says this with a few blurred faces in a panic-stricken manner who check to see if she’s ok. “Shit. Why did you kill him?” They each back away. “Why’d you kill him?”

  ...

  There was no use trying to reason with Lee. She wasn’t having it as she sat on Darren’s bed as he thought about calling Henny. “Lee, are you actually sulking because I shot a man that was just about to kill you?”

  “I’M NOT SULKING. IT’S just the second time you’ve interfered with an earl
y bottle opener.”

  “You were close to death!”

  “I had the gun in my grip.”

  “Not when I entered that room. It seemed like you were about to pass out. Admit it? You were potentially on the verge of meeting the dead Joneses.”

  “I always find a way out of a pickle.”

  “Sure Lee. Sure. But for pity sake, let me call Henny about an attempted threat on your life?”

  “I texted Henny last night before I went to sleep. We’ll wait for his reply.”

  “And what about now, you, and that man who tried to kill you?”

  “3-in-1?”

  “I NEED ALL THREE QUESTIONS answered by you?”

  “Likely a rebel by those rocks he had. Had a smell that I recognized from the hangar back when we first arrived here and saw those men working on those planes. It was like kerosene or diesel fuel. And his hands were dark orange when I wiped my neck with a cloth. That’s a few answers for you. Anything more?”

  “Yes. Are you ok?”

  “Darren, if I said yes, would you believe me?”

  “No.”

  “It’s our line of work. So, don’t get all emotional and caring for me.”

  “But why you, and not me?”

  “I’m pretty sure he would’ve snuck into your room and given you the same silent treatment. How did you know, by the way, that I was under duress?”

  “I heard the sort of banging that could be mistaken for a night of passion. But as it’s you, no offense, I knew that I should come and check if you’re ok... just in case I was wrong.”

  “I see,” Lee says no more on it. “Have they covered the body. Can I go check it out?”

  “How about I’ll check it out? You wait here and rest.”

  “I won’t argue with an emotional man. Go ahead.” Lee practically shoos Darren away with her words. He leaves her to be. And comes out of the room to find some medics, police, and staff all doing their best to keep the hotel under control and as contained as possible. A few guests are standing outside their room but have been ordered to not leave until the all clear has been summoned.