The Golden Goose of Los Angeles Extended Edition

by Travis Adams Irish

rides the mountain bike with the red cooler that contains the blood strapped to her back, while the two men follow her on foot.

 

  Under the large redwood tree Rory is in agony. His hands are still bound and covered in his own vomit, and he is having a hard time getting to his feet as his captors neglected to pull his pants back up. However, the doctor did take a moment to bandage the cut on his right thigh and his left inner ankle where they drew the blood. With steady aggression, he rolls himself away from the uncomfortable rocks beneath the tree. Now on the soft earth, he pulls his pants up a few inches at a time with his bound hands. Once his pants are back on he is able to rise slowly to his feet, feeling a rush of dizziness from the loss of blood as soon as he is upright. His head is still ringing from the concussion, and he has a hard time maintaining focus.

 

  From this standing position, he steps over to another tree and uses a patch of rough bark that is jutting out to slowly saw through the zip ties on his wrists. He turns his head sideways back and forth with disgust as the putrid smell of vomit hovers right in front of his face. Within a few moments, his bonds are thin enough that he is able to break them off by pulling his arms apart. A wide smile spreads across his face as he removes the bonds from his wrists and he massages each of them carefully, making sure there are no injuries.

 

  After taking a moment to inspect his body, he is able to recover his sock and shoe. As he walks around a bit more, a smile of experience spreads across his face.

 

  “You stupid bastards,” Rory says with satisfaction as his eyes locate his large backpack.

 

  Several minutes later, his hair is dripping wet from the fresh river water he used to cleanse his body. He is still shivering a bit from his impromptu bath, but enjoys the warmth of the large fire he has built far away from the redwood trees. The fire is covered with dark green leaves and is producing a large plume of gray and white smoke that is rising high above the canopy. He sits back for a moment, looking at this peaceful place where he never felt fear as a child. As he dries himself by the fire he thinks of how easily everything in life can be lost, and begins to understand the weight of his new circumstances. The rules have changed, he thinks to himself; you need to know that your blood does cure cancer, and it does cure deadly viruses. People will try to hurt you and even kill you for a second chance. He swallows hard as these thoughts become real to him for the first time since the press conference.

 

  From the distance, he hears a slow thumping sound, and a moment later, he sees the familiar orange and white rescue helicopter heading his way. As the rescue party approaches closer, tears of joy form around his eyes and he realizes how lucky he is to have survived the encounter with those sociopaths.

 

  “I’m coming home, baby,” he beams proudly, thinking of holding Kelly close to him. “Whatever this is, and whatever it brings, we are going to survive.

  VI. National Hero

  Rory steps through the gate at the Los Angeles International Airport and Kelly greets him immediately with a powerful bear hug, causing him to drop the backpack from his right hand. He is wearing some rustic clothing that the local search and rescue team was nice enough to provide. His typical sports gear has been replaced with a dark green flannel shirt and some faded jeans.

  “Oh my God, baby,” Kelly evokes with joy and relief, embracing him for a few extra seconds with her delicate, bare arms. “Are you okay?”

 

  “I’m fine, sexy,” he answers, kissing her warm, inviting red lips, “it was one hell of a time.”

 

  “I can’t believe people do this kind of shit. Who the fuck do they think they are?” She asks with wide eyes.

 

  “Lets get home, babe,” Rory says with an exhausted expression, staring deep into the airport terminal and suddenly wanting to be away from the crowd.

 

  He takes Kelly’s left hand in his right hand and picks up the backpack from the floor with his free hand as they begin to stroll through the airport together. She is wearing a form fitting white dress that goes a bit past her knees. It is covered in little heart shapes, which go well with the expensive red heels that she is wearing. Kelly looks at her boyfriend, noticing that he is watching everyone around them with suspicion, and his usual, happy disposition has become anxious; somewhere between angry and apathetic.

 

  A few minutes later they are enjoying a quiet drive in Kelly’s black Lincoln Navigator. Rory is relaxing in the passenger seat, watching the familiar sights of the city as they traverse through thick patches of stop and go traffic on their way home. Kelly is rigid as she drives; her hands grip the steering wheel tight as if it were the life they had just a week ago, and she dares not let it get away from them.

 

  “So what happened out there?” She finally asks, unable to save this conversation for home.

 

  “It was… fucking crazy,” Rory begins shaking his head and staring out into the distance again. “They seemed like really cool people, but as soon as they got me alone in the forest, they changed.”

 

  “There were three of them?” Kelly prompts him to continue; both for her own curiosity, and to some degree, a therapeutic release for him.

 

  Rory sighs, running his upper row of teeth over his bottom lip for a moment before he decides to answer. “It wasn’t pretty. They backed me up to one of the big redwoods and demanded my blood. Then they punched me in the gut and hit me on the side of the head with a pistol. At that point I had a concussion, and it was all pretty foggy.” Rory tips his head down in shame for moment wishing he had been smarter leading up to the incident.

 

  Kelly starts to cry as she envisions her boyfriend being bound and hit like an animal so far away from any help.

 

  “Hey, I’m okay. I’m really okay.” He rubs the side of her face tenderly, hoping that she’ll relax. “It did make me realize what this means for our future. Everything has changed. I didn’t realize it until Doctor Yahmir said that he would have been willing to drain the blood from me himself if he knew it would save his son. But people get desperate when their back is against the wall, and they will do crazy things for love or money.”

 

  “God, this is such a shitty gift for people like us,” Kelly says randomly, “I mean there is no one in our lives that has these diseases or could benefit from a cure. It just doesn’t make any sense, sweets, but I do wish we hadn’t done that press conference.”

 

  “Press conference?” He asks with wide eyes. “What about that night I went on Our World Today; the opportunistic prick put a dollar value on my blood? Then his damn, Frankenstein-looking stage manager had the balls to ask me to cure one of his rich friends of Hepatitis.”

 

  “Maybe you should hire a bodyguard, Rory,” Kelly suggests with a motherly stare, “I mean there are famous people who have them: world leaders, drug dealers, athletes-“

 

  “I’m not hiring a damn bodyguard,” Rory says with strong affirmation, “I just need to keep my guard up and we’ll be fine.”

 

  What did the cops say?” She asks, quickly changing the subject. “Do they know who these people are yet?”

 

  “They’re holding onto the $50,000 that they left me, and trying to get prints from that. The black couple screwed up and said that they were infected with Hepatitis C, which should narrow it down quite a bit. Also, when I first ran into them, the guy who was calling himself Tuck almost accidently called his girl Lacy. The fat doctor will be easy to recognize, and the cops are setting up barricades and posting their photos at airports.”

 

  “They left you fifty grand thinking that you would just keep quiet? Unbelievabl
e! I saw the sketches on the news,” Kelly says softly, “at least that’s one way the media hasn’t screwed us in the past few days. Did they say anything about where they’re from?”

 

  “Tuck said they were on vacation from New York, but the cops think they are from around here based on how quick they setup this whole thing in such a short time after the press conference. Oh, and I got a call from The Governor this morning,” Rory states, raising his eyebrows a bit.

 

  “The Governor? What did he want?”

 

  “He called to offer me any assistance the state could provide and asked if we could come to a fundraiser later this week.”

 

  “Fucking Politicians. They always have some bullshit hoop they want you to jump through. What did you tell him?”

 

  “I thought the idea of a very secure beach house filled with wealthy people, Senators, and Secret Service may not be a bad idea.” He responds with serious, soft brown eyes.

 

  “I thought we were going to avoid the spotlight?” Kelly asks with confusion.

 

  “So did I, Kell, but that was before all of this went down. Now I only feel safe in the spotlight, and I’m going to start donating blood again.”

 

  “Shit, are you sure? If we keep this story going; isn’t it just going to provoke another attack?”

 

  “Maybe,” he agrees from his dry throat, “but I like our chances better being surrounded by a lot of people who also have something to lose. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this.”

 

  “Whatever you think is best, I just want us to get