The Arrival

by Riley Moreno

  It bounces out and he reaches for it. Lee throws one of her Kahr’s at his skull and when it connects with an ’ow’ she’s over there kneeing him in the chin and then whacking the pistol once, twice, then the third time lucky with a slight craccccccccccccck heard. That really unsettles his jawline and has him spitting out some blood before the fourth comes down but he’s clasping that muzzle and slowly getting up from his knees with a jerking towards him process as he tries to steal it from her.

  Lee’s jabbing that other Kahr as hard as she can in his Adam’s apple. He keeps spurting out a cough each time she does and then spits out some blood from his last grievance. It’s hard to keep account of both her babies so she drops one of the pistols and does a nutmeg inbetween him, takes her free hand and throws the best punch that she can muster.

  It hurts her more than him. She’s shaking that hand rapidly to ignore the pain, but she does it again and clenched her wrist firmer as that hook bonded with the side of his ear.

  He lets go of her pistol, shielding his ear-lobe but adds in a slap of her hand that after all that toil-n-trouble falls from her clasp and she’s weaponless with him reaching for the machine gun that’s 5 yards away.

  Lee’s levitated her leg upwards and lets him get to a point where he thinks he can whip it up, wrong. The soles of her shoe is ready to hammer-down justice and retribution upon him thinking that she would actually allow the arrogance of actually picking up that machine gun. It’s too bad that he grips her shoes, more like comfy black plimsoles and tries to twist her ankle both ways.

  Lee tries to come with a kick from the other side but this guy, as Lee starts to figure, has similar training to a cop. So, he’s already stopping that attempt as he pushes Lee’s incoming shin that she just can’t remove from his clutch.

  The resistance he’s holding up is domineering as all the veins in his arms and neck start to swell to the size of a juicy maggot. And judging by the easiness of how he swings Lee’s leg back and then gets up briefly, hugs her waist with one arm and wrestles her down to the ground. There’s not much more of this that she can take. The guy is pattering down for a gun all around, Lee’s trying to escape from him pinning her down. She knees him in the ribs on one side, and the other leg can squiggle free as she slotted in a kick to the left rib cage. Lee lays both palms on his chest and then heaves him off her by using both legs to press him into the air!

  It works! Then she parries his trying hands that come back down to try and strangle her but Lee crab-slides in time, on her back and the man is thinking fuck that and gets up to collect his machine gun.

  Lee’s back up, reaches for the Kahr as she has the time and then pelts over to the counter where she ducks under the marble.She knocks her head to avoid the prat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat that shipwrecks the few pans and pots that Madelene had lying on top with the metallic sounds of ping-ping-ping-ping-ping-ping and cause Lee to hurl her sweet self all the way to the other end of the table.

  “How long does he intend to keep this up!?” Lee talks to herself because she needed to knock this Caucasian brother out cold. Not kill him, no. Her plan is to just knock him out cold. Prat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat, he’s walking that last mile and sending bullets to Madelene’s walls, cupboards, microwave, toaster, fitted oven and then down to where Lee is crouching as he believes he can finally see her kneecaps poking out.

  He’s reloading. Lee taps the marble counter, gives it a little shake and it easily moves. Not too heavy then. She checks to see if she can turn this eating contraption into a transportable device. It’s fastened securely onto the pedestal and Lee pops up like hey babe, how are ya? And grabs both ends of that marble table and shoves it into the man’s gut and carries him all the way into the remaining pots and pans next to the silver bin. But he doesn’t smash into that, instead, he’s squashed against a wall where Lee is tensing that face into a tiger and then looks above him, shoots her Kahr at the counter above the rice cooker and beige utensils fall down but that was a distraction, she really wanted the chance to grab a stainless steel pot, slide down that marble table and whack-whack-whack-whack-whack-whack until she saw blood and his eyes lose conciseness.

  He had tried to stick his fingers in her mouth. But she bit them, and he flinched away. When Lee was done, she collapsed tirelessly onto the table at the same time as he did. The only difference was she didn’t have an affair with the knocked-out-cold.

  ...

  He has open cuts on his eyebrows, his face was cherry red, and his nose was bloody and dried. Lee moved the table back and allowed him to fall onto the laminated floor. She shoved him over so that he could be lying on his back and checked his pockets for anything that she could use.

  He was down to his last magazine that Lee chucks into the pedal bin with gladness, down you go into that white bin liner. She wanted to throw in the machine gun, but she decides to lay that on the counter and go back to her nosey session and finds he has nothing on him.

  It’s then that she feels a ping of weariness in her body and makes her way to the fridge to see if food would be the cure. There are some chicken breasts and white rice that Lee shoves into the microwave that still works after the bullet-licking it took and places it on a glass microwave folding tray that she finds to use.

  Lee tabs in the digital: 3:00 minutes, and then closes that plate of food and lets it swirl. The kitchen is a mess, and an apology will have to be given to Madelene if she’s found. Then Lee walked over to slither down that cupboard; a migraine hit and was back up again when she heard the man coming- to a few minutes later...

  Lee shoots to the side of this man and onto the laminated floor, Ka -pam! One of his eyes pops open. Ka-pam! Another iris pops open. Ka – pam! And the small gap that’s perceptible via his gastrocnemius muscles has his upper body raised which is helped back down gradually by Lee with her dirty soles. She keeps her foot on his chest: tap-tap.

  “I should kill you. Because you killed Madelene and her family!?” Lee screams with a fake emotional passion. But she first wants to find out if she is still alive.

  “She’s not dead. They have her up there somewhere, trying to get her to sign the ranch over for renovation and renewal. Her family is there too.” He still sounds quite woozy to Lee. His eyes keep opening and closing consistently.

  “So, who was that woman out there? Wasn’t that family?” She stamps down on his chest. More of her acting skills with a hunt for an award. “You fucking shot her!”

  “If she had played it nice and calmly, she wouldn’t be dead. We don’t fork out instructions for people to not follow. What’s the point then, in giving them a role to play. Much like the one you’re playing out here.”

  “Aren’t we all a part of a role being played out here? You only know what they’ve told you.”

  “And who is they, Lee Coil?”

  “You don’t think I have this gun loaded just to scare you? I killed your friend back there. And I’ll do the same with you when I’m done. I like to get to know my assigned killers. It’s best to get on a first name basis.”

  “Sure. I’m Tom.”

  “Tom ... very normal and ordinary name.”

  “Thanks.” His eyes lower to her foot. “Why don’t you just kill me now?” They come back up to meet her again. “Or do we have to play it this way?”

  “You mean ... like this?” Lee has the gun 10- yards from the left-side of Tom’s face. The first Ka-pam, makes him jump a little. And with each ka-pam-shot that comes close to his face, Tom starts to wet himself without any urine soaking his clothes. It’s the last one that has his hands up in a tremor.

  “You ... you ... you ... you get your point across real clearly,” His tremors aren’t going away.

  Lee’s removing her foot from his chest and now heading behind his head, dropping down to her knees to pray over him with the muzzle that’s forcing open his gob that he refuses to open. Lee lifts his head for punishment of his refusal and slams it onto the laminated floor. “Again?” His tongue h
angs out, but that doesn’t matter when Lee’s slamming it once more. “Again?”

  “No!”

  Tom’s slurring. Lee can place that muzzle on his temple and let him hear her draw back the slide. “Who the fuck sent you out here to try and kill me, motherfucker? And no bullshit because our melee has worn...” The microwave dings and Lee’s stomach says yes, but she has this to deal with Tom first. “Who sent you?”

  “That depends on the source and how far back you want to go?”

  “Just give me a freaking name so that I can eat my chicken and rice - and shoot you.”

  “Some guy named Toro–”

  “Shut up!”

  The guy’s stressed, “you asked for a frigging name and that’s what we were told when we came out to find you.”

  “How soon ago was that?”

  “We’ve been here for the past week and a few days like yourself. We stayed in a motel for free. Dressed like a working citizen, and nobody blinked an eye to a white man cleaning the floors for a little extra cash. Getting menial labour jobs out here is very easy. Blending in isn’t hard. You wouldn’t have seen our movements.”

  “Toro, couldn’t have been the one to send your lot after me?”

  “We won’t be the last while you’re out here. Trust me on that.”

  “I don’t care. I just need to know that you got that name correct? And I’ll count down until I truly believe you!”

  “It’s the truth! I swear. Some organization doesn’t want you out here and that’s mainly it. Your presence might cause a nightmare that they don’t want to see happening.”

  “What organization?” Lee stands up and lets his eye-balls roll to the centre of the muzzle. “What organization!?”

  “I don’t...”

  Ka-pam! “You don’t what!?”

  Tom’s petrified. “Get the fuck up!” Lee counts, “1...2...3...4...5...6...7.” Tom resisting, but Lee is frigging scary to him. No woman has forced him so quickly to his feet when his body just wants to lie down on the floor. It takes him awhile to stand upright, and his legs do the wobbling spaghetti and bendy knees. That marble table has left his diaphragm winded and gasless.

  “I’m up. Don’t shoot.”

  Lee’s marching over to him, “I’m not going to shoot you.” She knocks the side of his temple with the back of the Kahr’s handle grip. Another schmack has Tom back onto the floor once more. “I’m just going to decide what I should do next with you.”

  Chapter 11

  Lee left Tom on the floor and ate the chicken and rice that was both grainy and undercooked. When hunger has its way, frog’s legs and octopus start to look appealing to Lee; two foods which would take a lot of courage for her to eat. This food tasted 15 days old, but her stomach accepted the presents one by one down that gut.

  “It can’t be Toro?” Lee’s staring out the window to the night sky that’s just reached a few hours ago. She checks on Tom every few minutes, and then goes back to contemplate what that would mean if it was indeed him?

  If only Henny would call now, but he won’t, of course, he won’t. He wouldn’t have a clue who Toro was, and why such a stupid name meant so much to Lee and her feigning sanity. Toro was in fact a name used between her and an associate when he would need coverage for his getting-jiggy-with-it-after-hour-deeds.

  He went by another name. And the one that most would know him by would be Bennie. Yeah, the man who gave her most of the lickity-split on Eric when she needed access to information from a source that didn’t mind getting his hands dirty and wiping it in everybody’s face.

  He was another who was supportive of Lee. And everything that he delivered from the businesses to the legalities of the forged signatures between Eric and Shaka, when he sold his restaurants was with the help of Toro, a.k.a., Bennie. “Shit.” Lee scratches her chin and rubs her digesting tummy. What would Bennie know about her being over here? Why would he want her dead?

  Lee hadn’t said anything to him about coming out here. Bennie wasn’t a good friend. Just the sort of contact that all good cops need when they have to dive into the deep end of the pool and not tarnish their names. Was Lee proud of working with him? No way. Did she enjoy what he brought to her doorsteps? With a pinch of salt sprinkled, maybe a little. It was tough to be straightforward cop and get the job done without trading with a snake.

  Bennie was a snake to some. But to Lee, he was a godsend on a rainy night. “Shit.” It’s all that can be played on that record. No other lyrics left for her to seize. Darren had warned her once about him.

  “If you deal with Bennie, you’ll end up asking what time your death was?”

  “What does that mean, Darren?”

  “That you need to find yourself another mister do-it-all.”

  “All the others are corrupt and politically tied to the train wave of Lotan or some other skunk.”

  “Just because Bennie isn’t, doesn’t make me feel any more comfortable with the guy.”

  “You just don’t like him!?”

  “I hate him. And I’ve never spoken to the guy before.”

  “Ah!” Lee closes her eyes, ignores that migraine and connects what dots she can before moving on and going to find Darren. “I got nothing here. Bennie just throws me that white towel and doesn’t even tell me why he surrenders? That’s not good enough Lee. You need to find that ... or this ... or something. Ok-ok. So, I’m out here in Torbelli looking for Shaka. Whose real name is not Shaka. Bennie was there when I needed help on Eric. Eric-Eric-Eric. Bennie offered me a hand with that case. Why did he want to help me out again?”

  Lee’s eyes open. The talking to herself stops. She draws back the curtain and sees two figures coming to the main home dressed much like Tom with machine guns in their hands. They’re only reaching Madelene’s ranch sign. Lee stalks them for a few more seconds, then checks back on Tom, still sleeping mutely. She kept the lights off for the sake of any more visitors like the ones coming.

  Lee hasn’t got the patience to fight more men. It’s worth less than getting her hair re-done. She aims to leave by the back door and straight out to the vegetable patches. In the night like this, she’ll be able to move more freely, and her confidence and lack of hesitation is there when she gets outdoors, tip-toes without stepping on any of the green beans, red peppers and corn, and climbs over the low-fence that brings her widely to the border of the ranch.

  She spots the men when she stalks in a crouch down and watches them now near the main house and going up those few steps. They’ll see the wreckage inside that home. A light is switched on. And she hears them call out, “Tom, you in here!?” They do this a few times until it must annoy Tom into waking the hell up!

  Lee spots a horse who has more hair on that mane than she has dreads. Never ridden a mule. Wouldn’t really take the kids that she doesn’t want a pony ranch. But heck, times often call for Lee Coil to climb back over that fence and see if this gray and black hunk would have a passenger on board it’s back?

  No time for a saddle. Or a stroke. But she warms up to he-or-she, with a smile that causes the beast to neigh gently and kick back its hoof. She wonders if that’s how human beings feel when she grins? The steed isn’t to fossilized when she runs her fingers against his hip, loin, back – working her way along to the muzzle and forehead which the steed doesn’t like too much at first, but gets friendlier as her stroke gets gentler.

  Lee has no idea how she’s going to get up onto this creature but when one of the men comes running out the main door with his submachine gun and heads to the small house where the young woman was shot down in cold blood, she finds that the beast becomes very accommodating and kneels to give her a chance to get on his flank and back.

  She tries not to yelp when it elevates up so brashly, and then waits for the instruction that she doesn’t know how to give. He seems to have an idea that she wants to head back to Torbelli as he begins trotting at a decent pace as one of the men shout, “Earnest is missing! Search that house from top to bott
om!”

  In the dark with the steed, she’s protected. They’re too occupied and miss Lee inching closer to the sign that comes up in 35-yards. Lee’s blessed to make it with no alarm bells going off. She has time now to think of Darren and to check on her phone that she hopes is still alive; it’s got 20% battery left. She could try and call him whilst the horse does its thing. “I hope I don’t fall off this thing?” The horse whinnies to that. “I guess you said I won’t, eh?” Another whinny from the horse. “I really am going mad. But good old Madelene. She trained you horses to know exactly where a tourist wants to go. I’ll need help to find Darren. Here goes nothing.” Lee tries to get a signal and call.

  ...

  Darren got lost multiple times. Often thinking north is south, and south is east. He had no compass or a map when he headed through what can’t be a forest or woods? But these plains, even though they were out in the open and the early morning sun was rising, were all mimicking the same pattern of elevated earth and having to stroll-up and then hope you didn’t tread on owned property.

  A few times he came to a field of sheep or mooing cows, and wondered how soon would a shepherd dog come out to chase him off? It never happened, so Darren continued forward and hoped he would come to the sanctuary, but it never showed itself after at least 3-to-4 hours of walking and no food or water.

  Darren wasn’t used to such greenery and no local shop or store to buy a coke or sprite from. And the inhabitants who were way out here ignored him with stares of intimation. After a while, he thought of the hitch-hiking option when a 100-acre plain came to an end and an open road for vehicles showed itself when he hustled through the bushes.

  There was no walking path. And on the other end was an outspread wall with what looked like the start of a river beyond it. “Am I really going to hitchhike?” Darren asks this and then throws out a thumb for a passing red Nissan. He dusts himself off to clean up a little and recalls just how hated he is out here and withdraws his thumb.