by Purple Hazel
“What you just said, Meeso. It’s perfect. I get it now! Maybe they’re not following us...maybe they’re driving us. Think about it. Either Zero is a few kilometers behind us right now, ready to pounce on us when we stop in town and turn on our communication devices...or...”
“Or what...you sayin’ she’s already waitin’ there for us?” proposed Ozzie, raising his voice a bit. Tooth Fairy’s face went white. He was at the very least just as concerned for his own safety. He’d muffed the job the night before in Ann Arbor. Now he’d likely be killed right along with the rest of them for failing to follow orders. “Shit man,” he asked timidly, “what are we gonna do now?”
“Now, let’s all just remain calm for a minute,” said Ozzie, quickly realizing how feeble that sounded as those words came out of his mouth. “I mean let’s think. Young-Min? Speak to me buddy. What’s goin’ on in that head o’ yours?”
Young-Min was already way ahead of him. “I got an idea Lieutenant (he slipped up and addressed Ozzie by his field rank back on the Santa Maria). See that sign up there we’re about to pass? That’s the third one announcing an exit for it…says something about a monument. What is it guys? I gotta keep my eyes on the road.”
It was Tooth Fairy who hastily responded. “Ah yeah! Crazy Horse Monument! Dude! The exit’s comin’ up in a kilometer or two. Take it! Seriously man, that’s perfect!”
“What is it? Is that like Mount Rushmore?” asked Young-Min Jo. Shamiso had no idea what they were talking about. Ozzie Guerrero recognized it immediately.
“No!” hollered Ozzie. “Even better! It’s a little ways to it...but I think Tooth Fairy’s right. We turn—what is it—south?” Tooth Fairy wasn’t sure. He only knew Crazy Horse was an extremely popular tourist destination now. Thousands traveled to it every year, ever since its sesquicentennial dedication ceremony in 2098. They could race down to it, park nearby, and take their digital communication devices up to the top. There they could easily reach almost anyone they wanted to call—while surrounded by hundreds of tourists. Even better, it was guarded by Native American park rangers.
“I’ll explain it to you on the way, but y’all...I think we done finally figgered out a way outa this mess.”
* * * *
One hundred and fifty years. That’s how long it took to finally finish one of the world’s most incredible man-made sculptures...to one of history’s long-forgotten heroes. The Crazy Horse Provincial Monument. It wasn’t just a statue. It wasn’t just a face carved into the side of a mountain like those old “presidents” of the former United States of America a little ways down the road.
Oh yes, Mount Rushmore was still there. The district park service of South Dakota continued to maintain it. People still visited it, too. But Crazy Horse was something totally different. It loomed over a peaceful valley in the Badlands of South Dakota. An entire mountain of solid granite...it had been blasted, hewed, carved, sculpted, and dug out to form the head, torso, and body of a famous war chief. But that’s not all. He was formed from that mountain, sitting on a wild pony, galloping toward enemy cavalry, and pointing toward them fearlessly. The sheer scale and magnitude of the monument was breathtaking to say the least. It was a sight to behold.
One hundred ninety-five meters wide. One hundred seventy-two meters tall. The head alone, twenty-seven meters high, was nearly twice the height of the faces of the US Presidents depicted on Mount Rushmore. Upon completion, it ranked as the largest non-religious sculpture on Earth...
“Where is it, Bones? Do you see it yet?” asked Shamiso. She was leaning forward with her hands on the dashboard of the front passenger seat, looking out the windscreen. Young-Min had already made out the top of the statue and was bubbly with excitement. “That’s it, isn’t it...Tooth Fairy?” he exclaimed.
Tooth Fairy leaned forward, peering through the windshield as both he and Ozzie hunched over to try and look out the front of the vehicle. Sure enough, the young fellow could just begin to see the forehead off in the distance, towering over the countryside and the surrounding valley. “Yeah, man. That’s it right there.” He then pointed past Shamiso’s shoulder so she could follow his index finger with her eyes.
“What, behind that mountain up there?” inquired Shamiso, still a bit confused.
“Nah, man. It is the mountain,” proclaimed the excited college student. He was wide-eyed with amazement. “Look, you can just now see his face. Wait ’til we round this curve. Then you’ll see him.” A few moments later, practically everyone swooned with delight. There it was!
“Oh…my…God,” muttered Shamiso, with eyes widened in surprise. No matter how they’d described it driving down through Custer, South Dakota, and into the provincial park area, words failed to do it justice. An entire mountain of granite, cleared of foliage, and carved into the image of a Native American warrior astride a horse, riding across the plains.
“How big you think it is?” asked Ozzie, grinning from ear-to-ear. He’d heard of this place when he was a little boy. Knew how the Lakota Sioux had taken over the project years earlier, when royalties from the solar industry had enriched tribal coffers to the point they could afford completing it. He’d read how the Energy Ministry had negotiated fifty-year contracts with Lakota tribal elders back in the 2040’s. This had bankrolled a rejuvenation of the Sioux Nation and its people. Today they were essentially a sovereign nation existing within the province of North America. Had their own schools, universities, industries, infrastructure, and police force. Even the park itself, for that matter the entire Badlands region, had returned to “native rule”.
“Biggest in the world...I know that much,” replied Young-Min Jo. He’d read that from the electronic pamphlet handed to them at the front gate a few kilometers back. Recognizing Young-Min’s military pass from Space Programme, a native border patrolmen had waved them through without charging any fee to enter the Sioux Nation.
What a place! A massive university campus now surrounded the base of the monument. A large parking area could be seen, and signs were directing them to it. Young-Min followed the line of cars heading in, and parked some distance from the main gate, near one of the exits. Shamiso wasn’t too pleased with his choice for a parking space. It was late afternoon. Half the lot was empty, as people were heading back to their cars to leave.
“Oi. Mate? Why are we doing this? Seriously? You mean for us to walk all that way? Can’t you find a spot near the front? Aren’t you even gonna look?”
But Young-Min was still thinking ahead. If anything happened, and they found themselves having to beat a hasty retreat, why not make it easier to get out? After all, until they were safe on a G.U. military base—and for that matter safely secured by Space Programme officials who knew who they were—he wasn’t going to take any chances. Ozzie agreed.
“I believe he’s right on this one, darlin’,” Ozzie said. “Let’s park and grab our communicators ’fore we head on up. We need to stretch our legs a bit anyway.” This they all agreed with. For the better part of two days and one night since fleeing Toronto, they’d been riding in a car. They could certainly use the exercise.
At the front gate, after crossing the enormous parking lot, they now found themselves facing yet another dilemma however. The line to get on the gondolas carrying people to the top was very long, packed with sweaty, annoyed, impatient tourists. What’s more, the tram, an electric bus which drove straight up to the top, had a queue of people waiting for it as well. That looked like it would take even longer. Ozzie once again took command of the group and opted for hiking the whole way. Shamiso sighed deeply and acquiesced, especially once she began to feel the intense heat of that fall afternoon, and the sun beating down on her head. Standing in line would have been simply miserable.
“One kilometer to the summit the sign says, give ’r take. How ’bout it y’all?” queried Ozzie. He was standing at the trailhead, and smiling at them, already breathing heavily from the rise in altitude. He was grinning excitedly though. Young-Min was all for
it. So was Tooth Fairy.
“Yeah man. Let’s hoof it,” he said. Young-Min affirmed this with an enthusiastic nod. “I agree,” he said. “Let’s walk. The view is gonna be incredible. I mean, c’mon Shamiso, this place is amazing.” Shamiso finally gave in, sighing. “Alright blokes. Let’s do it.” And with that, the four started up the path. Twenty minutes later, they were already regretting it…
* * * *
Ozzie reached the summit finally, after a rather strenuous hike up a seemingly endless ramp, which meandered and switched back and forth six or seven times up the side of Crazy Horse Monument. His head dizzy, the heat getting to him, his eyes stinging with sweat, he was withering to the point of needing to stop and collect himself for a while. No need to worry about that now. He’d made it.
That being said, he was only in second place finishing the long climb. Young-Min Jo, excited about getting to the top where he could finally use his DICE to call Space Programme, had ended up leading the way. Shamiso and Tooth Fairy were a distant third and fourth. Ozzie expected them to show up presently.
But upon arriving at the massive causeway—which ran along the giant left arm of the famous warrior—Ensign Jo was nowhere to be seen. The crowd was still thick, moving about the summit enjoying the view. It was approaching closing time. These were probably the last few hundred tourists of the day, checking out the enormous face of Crazy Horse, and posing for pictures in front of it. It started to remind Ozzie of a terrible dream he’d had recently...of a mountainside back on Kapteyn B, and him running down a path which suddenly turned into the outstretched arm of a gigantic alien monster.
He strolled around for about fifteen minutes, figuring Shamiso and Tooth Fairy would show up at any time. This would give him a while to compose himself. Meanwhile tourists darted about, moving along the railing and occupying the few open spaces available to stand and gaze out over the valley. It was blazing hot—Ozzie was soaked in sweat. Leaning over on that railing and regaining his strength suddenly felt like the most pleasurable experience imaginable.
He looked back at the face of Crazy Horse once more, almost chuckling to himself remembering that macabre nightmare from several nights before. Of course, the big war chief looked nothing like the terrible creature from the dream. The face looked determined, fearless, and calm—the way a leader always needed to appear before his troops when directing them into battle. It inspired him. The dizziness started to dissipate. The burning in his calves and thighs also began to subside. He was ready to start looking for the rest of his crew.
Problem was the big crowd! He returned to the long walkway where a tram was reloading, filling up with tourists ready to call it a day. He circled around it a time or two, looking for Shamiso. Nowhere. No Tooth Fairy either. He started walking back into the crowd, hoping to find them. It started to aggravate him.
“Where the hell are they?” he exclaimed—to no one in particular. “Where is my crew, dammit.” He felt a pit in his stomach, and it wasn’t from hunger. Big crowd or not, he should have been able to find them by this point! So what could have happened?
He walked back down the enormous outstretched arm of the giant statue. It led all the way to a lookout point at the tip of Crazy Horse’s index finger. The hand rested on the head of the warrior’s giant pony, which was formed out of the massive mountain of granite below. A crowd of people were gathered at this lookout, and there was a bench located along the railing.
That’s when he finally spotted them.
All three were sitting there, hands clasped in their laps, talking to—or then again, maybe they were just looking up at—a rather attractive Asian woman facing them. She was dressed in pressed black slacks and a tailored black shirt. She had a large handbag slung over her shoulder and her hand was tucked inside. He wondered if she was a kindly tourist and they’d asked her to take their picture together. Yet when he thought about it a moment longer, that made no sense either. None of them looked the least bit happy about their situation. This could only mean one thing, and that pit in his stomach quickly returned. Somehow...some way...Zero had found them.
What could he do!? Should he run? Of course not. Should he go track down one of those park rangers wandering about, smiling at tourists and reminding them the park was closing soon? One look at a pair of those portly fellows and Ozzie quickly abandoned that idea. The two aging specimens he saw nearby couldn’t possibly be much help. “Pot-bellied retirees, enjoyin’ their golden years,” Ozzie grumbled sardonically. What’s more, they weren’t even armed. Zero probably was. There was only one choice left. He had to confront her.
The remaining challenge was simply how to go about rescuing his friends. He could try sneaking up and tackling Zero, but he thought against it. No, that would never work. Any of those three seated on that bench: Young-Min Jo, Tooth Fairy, or his girlfriend Shamiso? They might look up, alerting her to his presence. Not only that, he was so big, she’d probably see his shadow before he closed in!
And what if she startled? What if she opened fire? Her hand was tucked into that giant purse. Finger no doubt on a trigger. What if it was one of those new electrical impulse cannons—the compact handheld variety—likely containing enough rounds in it to pepper her target with a single burst? At such close range, it’d kill a person. Worse...it seemed to be pointed directly at Shamiso!
Thus, a headlong assault, tackling the woman to the ground, and disarming her, was out of the question. Too many variables. Best to take a more tactical approach. Maybe he could distract her. Nonetheless, the first order of business was to make his presence known.
“Excuse me little photographer lady, but when yer done takin’ these nice folks’ picture, could I get you to come shoot my wife and me over by that big Injun?”
Zero turned only slightly, eyeing the big man warily as he walked toward her. Amazingly enough, his brash Texas humor failed to impress her. “Well,” she snickered, “Ensign Guerrero I believe it is? Nice of you to finally join us. Funny, we were just talking about you.”
Ozzie was not intimidated in the least—even if she was likely armed. He noticed her pivoting subtly to aim her purse at him. “Yeah, that’s right Chinkerbell!” he addressed her brusquely. “I’m Ensign Oswaldo Guerrero, and while we’re at it, I’ve had it up to here with you ’n yer people chasin’ me ’n my crew halfway across America. Just how in Sam Hill did you find us anyway?”
Zero wasn’t fazed by Ozzie’s brashness, not even by the outdated racial slur. Quite honestly, his attempts seemed comical to her. “Never mind that, big guy...you and your friends are coming with me now.” She then turned for a moment to face the other three, and stepped back, gesturing with the hand in her purse for them to rise from the bench. “All of you now...get off your asses and let’s go.”
Ozzie still had one more card to play.
“We’ll do nothing of the kind! Are you outa your goddamn mind, lady?!” he retorted. Several passing tourists stopped and looked at them for a moment. “We’re in a public place! There are park rangers practically everywhere! You really expect to pull a gun on us...here?”
Zero smirked. “Ha! Park Rangers. Have you taken a good long look at some of these park rangers around here? I’ll shoot all four of you before they do a fucking thing about it. They’re old men. And as for you, gweilo, be warned, I don’t like Caucasians very much. Don’t make it so easy for me to kill you. ’Cause I will.”
Ozzie sneered, “No you won’t. And I don’t give a shit if you like white guys ’r not. I ain’t white anyway. I’m brown! Mexican-American. South Texas!”
Zero merely rolled her eyes in response. “Whatever asshole,” she scoffed. “Now...turn around and march your brown ass back to the trailhead. All of you...move. Ensign Guerrero will lead the way. And don’t fuck with me either, or I swear to God I’ll shoot this crazy black bitch first...right here and now. You boys want to see her die...ripped in two by an EIC? Because that’s what’s going to happen the moment you give me any excuse.”
Ozzie wondered just what conversation had occurred prior to him arriving—between Zero and the occasionally willful Shamiso. But it didn’t matter anymore—he was out of arguments, out of ideas, and out of options. His crew, and Tooth Fairy, were all looking up at him, then back at Zero, and vice versa. Ozzie figured they’d better cooperate—for now.
* * * *
After marching them all the way back down that long pathway, Zero directed Ozzie’s attention to a large black limousine, flecked with bug splatter and dust, located out toward the edge of the parking lot. Several white vehicles were parked nearby it, which seemed odd, but Ozzie didn’t dwell on this. Meanwhile he could see Tooth Fairy’s car was not more than ten or twelve parking spaces away.
“Over there, Brown-ass!” she barked toward Ozzie from the back. “The black limo. Back row.” Everyone would follow him right to it, she figured. There was a long line of cars queuing up, way off in the distance, waiting their turn to exit the parking lot. Otherwise, the area was mostly cleared out by now. A perfect opportunity to force four people at gunpoint into a limousine and simply drive away.
Ozzie realized this might be his last chance to pull something. The only problem was, how could he coordinate this with the rest of the group? And even if he did get them to try and scatter amongst the cars and try avoiding Zero’s line of fire—which would have been a risky proposition at best—he had to figure at least one of them would get injured or killed. The question was which?
It didn’t matter anyway. Something else was about to happen that would make this completely unnecessary. Suddenly, from off in the distance a voice could be heard calling out to them. It was a woman’s voice. Shamiso recognized it immediately. It sounded like Monika Steckel...
