At least that’s what Orlando told himself as he made his way to the warehouse.
He climbed the stairs that he and Ruben had found earlier and let himself into the warehouse. It was quiet. It was dark. The only light came from the outside through the skylights.
Orlando stood on the landing. It had been closed off from anything that would help him get across. He saw that several feet away was a separate landing that connected to a stairway. He was going to have to jump it.
He didn’t have much room for error. He backed up and ran, jumping over the steel beam that had blocked off the platform, kicking against it with his heel. He landed on the next platform only to discover that it was not properly affixed to the wall of the warehouse. The platform swung away from the wall crashing back against it with a loud clank. Orlando nearly slid off, but he managed to grab onto the stair rail as his feet began to slide. He pulled himself up. The platform knocked a couple more times against the wall.
Orlando waited. His heart beating fast, he had made so much noise that it was only a matter of time before something would be coming to check it out. He rushed down the stairs which was not easy. His descent caused movement on the stairway, which caused it to clank against the wall.
According to Maxwell, the warehouse was adjacent to a small office.
He heard footsteps and ducked behind several large crates. He didn’t see what had passed as he was trying to stay in the shadows.
Orlando heard it move further down, he did as well. He traveled several yards to where Maxwell said the office would be. It was not locked. He pushed the door open and quickly scanned the inside. It was empty. Orlando went for where Maxwell had said the vault would be. In the corner, in the cement floor, he turned the combination. It opened smoothly. Inside wax a simple folder and a vial. Orlando took both the file and the vial.
As Orlando closed the door behind him from the office, the lights in the warehouse switched on. He was not alone. Surrounding him were several zombies. And they all looked hungry. They seemed to move forward at the same time as if on cue.
He was quicker then they were. He ran towards the main exit. A man came charging at him, taking them both down on to the floor. He had blood on his chin, his hair, mostly pulled out of his head. He was on all fours like an animal growling at Orlando.
The other zombies had caught up to them.
They began to circle Orlando. And as they did so they began to close the circle in on him.
A hungry one lunged at him. Orlando knocked him down with his fist. A second zombie pulled at Orlando’s arm. Orlando grabbed him around the neck and threw him into the other one.
Orlando’s leg slid out from under him as the hungry zombie he had knocked to the floor had inched its way over to him and pulled him down.
Orlando summoned his purple smoke, it swept out like a shield around him, pushing the zombies away. Deciding to make use of the crates that were stacked everywhere he ran to the nearest one, touching it with his hand he set it on fire. He then pushed it onto another crate creating a domino effect.
Not waiting around to witness the chaos, Orlando made his way to the exit, and he didn’t look back.
Chapter Eighteen – The Growl
“This says that your contact lives in Los Angeles.” Orlando said. He had read the file on his way back to the hotel. Ruben and Michael were going over it themselves.
“Yes.” Maxwell said.
“We have to get back to L.A. we have to find this guy.”
They were all silent, “We can cross the border into El Paso, Texas. I have some coyotes that can help us.” Michael said.
“Coyotes?” Orlando asked not following. He had never heard the term before.
Ruben answered, “Coyotes are people who get immigrants across the border.”
“I will make the call.” Michael said. He removed his cell phone from his back pocket.
“Will you let me go, now?” Maxwell asked, hopefully.
“Sure, why not?” Ruben said with a smirk on his face.
Orlando took a few steps towards Maxwell and said, “I don’t think you have told us everything. Until you do, you’re staying close by.”
“Close by?” Maxwell asked.
Orlando only nodded his head in response he didn’t elaborate.
A rock smashed through the hotel window, landing in the center of the room. The glass shards splintered as they hit the floor, Orlando covered his face with his arm.
Ruben grabbed Maxwell by his shirt and yelled at Orlando to follow them out of the room.
“What was that?” Orlando asked as he followed them out.
“Don’t care.” Ruben called out from over his shoulder as he dragged Maxwell along.
Behind, Orlando heard a loud crash and smoke sputtered out of the room. Orlando was quick to move. He followed Ruben down into the stairwell. They both halted at the exit. Orlando eased the door open, the way looked clear.
Maxwell began coughing, he appeared to be chocking. He grasped at his neck as if he were trying to clear it of some hold.
Ruben released his clenched fist from Maxwell.
Maxwell’s cough became deeper; smoke began to emerge from his mouth.
Ruben pushed Orlando out the doorway. Orlando could not turn his eyes away from Maxwell as he dropped to his knees in pain.
“What is going on with him?” Orlando asked.
Michael ran into the lobby, “Over here!” he shouted.
Orlando asked his question again, wanting to know what was happening to Maxwell.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Michael said as he headed for the lobby’s exit. He held the door open, “Over here.”
Ruben wasted no time, Orlando could not look away.
Maxwell braced his hand on the door handle of the stairway. He rose to a low squat. His head hung low, his coughing eased. He began making a strange noise. It sounded like a growl.
He suddenly charged at Orlando, who was the closest to him.
Maxwell threw his body at Orlando, who fell onto his back. He pushed Maxwell up and over his body. Maxwell landed near Ruben and Michael.
Michael took his sidearm out and fired at Maxwell, it didn’t look like he was injured by the gunshots. He ran at them on all fours, as he reached Michael he smacked him across the face and took the gun from him.
Orlando jumped onto Maxwell’s back, his arms around his neck in a choke hold.
“Don’t kill him!” Ruben shouted as he circled them.
“Kill him!” Michael said in response.
Orlando paid neither one any attention, he focused his magick. Hoping it would work as he wanted.
Purple smoke erupted from Maxwell. From his ears and mouth, it came.
Orlando released his hold from Maxwell’s neck and stepped away. Maxwell fell to the floor as the smoke cleared.
Maxwell gave a few coughs and then drew his eyes to Orlando.
Orlando moved closer to where he lay. His eyes seemed to clear as Maxwell said, “They were afraid that I would talk. The next bomb will be marked for you.”
“What happened to you?” Orlando asked.
“When you get back to L.A. go to my lab in China Town. Ruben, he knows where it is. I have information hidden there that can help you.”
Ruben squatted down next to Maxwell, looking him in the eyes he asked, “Why would you give us anything?”
“They killed me.” He simply said.
“We need to get out of here, we can’t stay here; the Mexican police will be coming by.” Michael was once again by the lobby door.
Orlando didn’t want to leave Maxwell, “he can give us information.”
“He’s dead.” Ruben closed Maxwell’s eyes, and then stood. “Orlando.” He called back.
Chapter Nineteen – The Border
The coyotes drove them out of town in a small truck. Orlando, Ruben and Michael sat in the bed of the truck inside the camper. None of them sp
oke as they were driven out of town.
Orlando had not wanted to leave Maxwell there, although he didn’t deserve anything better from them. It just felt wrong.
The truck came to a halt, Michael was the first to step out; he walked around to the driver side of the truck and spoke a few words in Spanish to the coyotes.
Orlando looked around and found himself in the middle of nowhere.
“Don’t look so scared,” Ruben rechecked his weapons before adding, “The chupacabra doesn’t come out this far.” He gave a laugh.
Michael rejoined them as the coyotes drove down the road leading to town.
“We can cross down here,” Michael led the way down the rocky path. “The border portal won’t be by for another hour.”
“How do you know this?” Orlando asked as he followed Michael down the path.
“That’s what we pay the coyotes for.”
“I thought they were supposed to get us all the way across.” Ruben asked irritated.
“This is as close as they will go.”
Orlando thought that maybe Michael didn’t want to elaborate.
“There is a thin fence up this way. We can jump it and be in El Paso, Texas.” Michael pointed up ahead.
Orlando could see the faint outline of a fence. It looked to be made out of wood. He looked around feeling uneasy; he didn’t want a run in with the border patrol.
“If they come, don’t run.” Michael said in warning.
His words made Orlando even more uncomfortable. The thin wooden fence seemed that much farther away.
The walk was the longest that Orlando had ever had to endure. They reached the fence. It was old, and looked to be falling apart. Michael was the first to scale it; he was over the wall in seconds.
“Go for it.” Ruben said to Orlando, urging him over the wall.
Orlando noticed that Ruben was keeping a look out. Orlando reached for the top of the wooden fence, grabbing onto it he pulled his body up and threw his legs over the fence. It was a short drop to the other side.
Ruben was at his side seconds later. They had crossed safely.
“Welcome to El Paso,” Michael brushed the dirt from his pants leg and headed into town.
Chapter Twenty – The way home
After finding a car that would get them to San Diego, they made their way onto the 10 freeway. Michael’s cell phone kept ringing breaking the silence in the car. He would not answer the phone; he eventually set it to silent.
“You should slow down,” Orlando told Ruben who was driving. Orlando sat in the passenger seat. Michael was seated in the back, he had his eyes closed and looked to be sleeping.
“It’s fine.” Ruben said. He didn’t bother to slow done one bit.
Orlando was worried that they might get pulled over for speeding. They had picked up the car in El Paso; it belonged to a friend of a friend, according to Michael. Orlando wasn’t to sure about that.
It was seven hundred and twenty four miles from El Paso to San Diego. Which was about eight and a half to nine hours, Ruben was aiming to make it closer to eight hours.
They had to drive through New Mexico and Arizona and they drove non-stop.
Once they reached San Diego, Ruben parked the car a few blocks down from the Horton Hotel. Michael took the keys from him, telling them that he would see them in Los Angeles.
Orlando hoped that his Sportster was still where he had left it.
Fortunately, it was. With a sigh of relief at this good fortune, he gave it a quick check over and started it up.
****
China Town was quiet. It was late, and the streets were bare. Ruben was the first to park his Kawasaki sport Z1000. Orlando got a strange feeling, almost as if he were reliving the first time he had come to China Town with Ruben. He had the same feeling of uneasiness but now it was accompanied with dread.
“All the times I have been here before,” Ruben’s voice was gruff as he looked at the withered building, “I wouldn’t have guessed he was doing experiments on hunters or even involved with such shady people.”
Orlando placed the keys to his Harley in his pocket and dismounted. He looked over his shoulder to see if Ruben was still sitting on the Kawasaki or if he had joined him. He found that he had remained seated.
“Not much you can do, if you stay there.” Orlando said, not sure of what to do.
“I’m not going in with you.”
In mid stride Orlando came to a stop and asked confused, “Why not?”
“Too many bad memories, I need to face them on my own. Just wait out here.”
Orlando wasn’t sure what was going on, but he gave a simple yes with a tilt of his head in compliance and stepped aside as Ruben walked in on his own. Thinking to make better use of his time he walked across the street to a small Chinese restaurant for some food. He sat in a booth by the windows to keep watch on the building across the street.
He ate quickly, realizing that he was starving. About ten minutes later, Orlando saw Ruben standing out by the motorcycles; he was strapping a bag onto the bike.
Orlando pushed the chair back from the table and hurried out of the restaurant leaving his tray at the table. He quickly rejoined Ruben asking him what he had in the bag.
Ruben didn’t answer; he started up the motorcycle, a sullen expression on his face.
Without saying any more Orlando followed him for several blocks until Ruben stopped at the bottom of a grassy hill. He looked back over his shoulder and pointed up. It was a narrow paved road that led up the hill. At the top of the hill was a street lined with houses on the right side and the rest of the hill on the left. Further up the street was a dirt road that led to a single house. Orlando followed as Ruben continued along the dirt road. There was a metal gate that blocked the road. Ruben stopped right along side it and kicked it open with his foot, after kicking some dirt with his tire he drove through the gate.
The gate led into a yard that was lacking grass, the house itself looked old but well kept. Orlando parked his motorcycle and removed his helmet. Ruben had removed the bag and had it slung over his shoulder. Elodie was at the front door. She didn’t say anything to her brother as he walked past her into the house.
“I meant to go back, but I couldn’t.” she said as she walked over to him. “There was some trouble here.”
“There was?” Orlando asked.
She simply said, “Yeah.”
There was a loud shout coming from inside the house followed by someone calling out Elodie’s name.
Ruben was standing at the door, he did not look very happy. “What happened to the house?”
Elodie cleared her throat; she shot a quick look at Orlando before answering, “I was in the middle of cleaning it up. But, um, some people were here looking for you.”
Orlando was surprised by this and asked, “Who?”
“I don’t know, they just tore the house apart, they didn’t talk much.”
Ruben turned and walked back into the house.
“Did they hurt you?” Orlando asked her.
She shook her head before answering, “Just my pride. There were too many of them for my magick to handle.”
“Did they take anything?”
“No, they spent about five minutes trashing the house and then just left.”
“What did they look like?”
“They were in suits. Which I thought was weird. I mean what sort of people walk around in suits trashing other people’s houses?”
Ruben was striding out of the door with the bag that he had had earlier slung over his shoulder once more. “Elodie, it’s not safe here for you. Get a few things we’re moving.”
Elodie chose not to argue with him. She ran back into the house.
“She said they were in suits.” Orlando told him when they were alone.
“I haven’t been able to read the file I took. I want you to take it and keep it with you.” He handed the bag to Orlando.
“What are
you planning?”
“They tore up my house. My sister was here. What do you think I’m planning?”
“Revenge. What are you going to do?”
Elodie came rushing out of the house. She had a backpack with her. Ruben ignored the question and started his bike. Elodie sat behind him.
“Where are you going?” Orlando asked.
Elodie gave him a half smile before strapping her helmet on and Ruben didn’t answer. They drove out of the yard and back down the hill.
Orlando was left holding the bag. Literally. He squatted down and looked inside. There were a few files inside. He went through a few of them before he found the one he was most interested in. The location of one of the six men, the location of the one who lived in Los Angeles, he was going to find him.
Orlando knew he couldn’t return home just yet. His parents and his grandfather would not understand. He couldn’t return home until it was finished.
Chapter Twenty – One – Nine Lives
Orlando parked his motorcycle several blocks from the house. It was dark and he didn’t want the sounds of his Harley to give him away. After Ruben and Elodie had left him, he went inside the house to see what he could use. He needed a change of clothes. He found an old black trench coat that fit him– it was a little big but it would work for the night.
The front of the house where he now stood was lined with trees, blocking the view from the street. He walked around the fence looking for an entrance. He heard men talking near a rear gate. Orlando ducked into the shadows. He inched his way closer so that he could hear them better.
“There’s some trouble at the warehouse. I need you to get over there and handle it.”
“I’m not going there alone. Have you seen that place?”
“Get over there now. Or I will let Mr. Jeffries know that you would like to be a volunteer for the experiments.”
“No, don’t do that.” Without further encouragement he turned and hurried down the street towards Orlando. Orlando pushed himself further against the fence. The shadows of the trees shielded him from discovery.
Mr. Jeffries was the name in the file. Howard Jeffries. The man at the gate dialed a number on his cell phone, after a moment’s pause he began to speak. “Alert Mr. Jeffries that I am sending a volunteer down to the warehouse for him. Mr. Jeffries should be very pleased. He is a prime candidate.”