“Hey! I’m talking to you. Don’t you ignore—”
Trent froze in his tracks and gaped at Benji lying bound in the dirt road. He looked up at the man who stood beyond Benji, smoking his cigarette.
“How-? What-?” He shook his head as if shaking off the shock of seeing someone brought back from the dead. Trent stomped over and pushed Benji’s face down in the dirt. “Where is it, huh? Where? Where's his backpack?”
Trent reached out and grabbed the bag as it was handed to him. He frantically tore open the remaining pocket only to find no giant ruby inside. Trent pulled Benji to his knees and slapped him in the face, hard. The younger boy’s head snapped to the side and stars danced in front of his eyes.
“Where is it?” Trent screamed in his face.
In spite of the growing pit in his stomach and the pain of Trent’s slap, Benji forced his mouth to stay shut. Trent’s face grew red and he balled his fists at his sides. Before he knew it, Benji was on the ground coughing in the dust and trying his hardest not to cry. Trent relaxed his fist and shook out his hand.
“How’s that for payback?”
Usually, Benji did his best to avoid pain and suffering. He never went looking for trouble and always thought things through before acting. This is why what he did next was very unlike him and very, very stupid. He looked up and smirked just like Trent always did when he picked on someone—one eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth curved up just a bit.
The last thing Benji saw before everything went dark was Trent’s shiny new hiking boot coming straight at his face.
34.
Pit stop
Consciousness came and went like ocean waves on the shore. The blackness faded to grey, and small bits came through before drifting away again.
"My father says bring the boy to him."
…
The trunk of a Land Rover, his head hitting the floor as they bounced over bumps and dropped into potholes.
…
The dim pink sunrise reaching the clouds above, signaling the coming day.
The Land Rover left the forest and stopped.
"Pit stop," gruffed a voice from up front.
“I need to pee,” Benji said.
"Tough luck.”
"I don't want him messing his pants in here,” the man in the passenger seat said. “It'll stink."
"Alright, fine."
The doors opened, and a few seconds later, the trunk door raised and unbroken sunlight poured onto Benji's face, both warming him and giving him a splitting headache.
"Get out," the man ordered.
Benji’s wrists were still bound behind him, and he struggled to get upright. He squirmed and slid and made a show of how difficult it was to sit up. He squinted in the light and still had a hard time focusing his eyes. For a baseball player, Trent sure could kick.
“How am I going to take a pee with my hands behind my back?"
Trent walked into Benji's sight and looked down at the younger teen. He smirked. "Untie his hands. Just watch him." Trent turned to walk away and spoke one last instruction over his shoulder. “If he tries to run off, shoot him."
The goon grinned at Benji and bent over. He pulled up one pant leg and drew a revolver from a holster strapped to his calf just above his ankle. He held it up for Benji to see clearly, and then shoved it into his right pants pocket. He looked the boy in the eye.
"I sure could use some target practice."
Benji gulped. The big, ugly guy laughed at him, his guffaws carrying for miles. He grabbed Benji and threw him, face-first, into the floor of the trunk.
The ropes around Benji's wrists grew tight, nearly too tight too bear, before loosening and finally falling off. The ropes were tossed aside and he sat back up, legs hanging over the edge of the car. With a sigh of relief, he saw his father's hat lying in one corner.
Benji grabbed the fedora and placed it on his head before stepping away from the men to find a semi-private place to pee.
Well, Benji, he thought, how are you going to get yourself out of this one?
"The heck if I know," he mumbled to himself.
"I would've thought you'd have to sit down to do that!" Trent's voice carried from the other side of the Land Rovers, the chuckles of his men not far behind.
Benji finished and zipped his pants, trying not to cry. "Whatever."
And with that, he walked straight ahead and over the edge of the hill they had been driving on.
"Get him!"
Instead of running or hiding, Benji just sat down on a ledge jutting out from the side of the hill. He would only have few seconds of quiet before Trent’s men caught up to him.
A few seconds wasn't enough. It wasn't enough time to feel more than a quick caress of the breeze or watch the golden grasses sway. Not enough time to catch more than a glimpse of a small herd of horses cresting a hill or admire all the ridges and rivers and trees and cliffs and everything else here in the most beautiful place Benji had ever seen.
Click.
Benji had seen too many action and adventure movies not to know that sound. It was the hammer of a gun locking into position, getting ready to swing down and start a chain reaction that would end in a bullet in his back. Slowly, without any sudden movements, he stood and turned to face the big ugly guy who was supposed to be babysitting him.
"Walk," Trent's thug growled.
Trent met Benji in the road, red-faced and trembling with rage. He stood nearly nose-to-nose with Benji and spoke so only he could hear.
"I told you not to wander off, Stone, and you do exactly what say. You are not in charge here. They are not in charge here.” He motioned to the men around them. “I am in charge. Don’t you ever forget that, chick. And get this through your head—I just need you to be able to talk. Walk? Not so much. Disrespect me again and I’ll break your legs.”
35.
A familiar face
Three hours passed before the two Land Rovers turned onto the Queen’s Road and headed south back towards Nadi. Benji spent that time in silence, looking out the windows from his place in the back and memorizing the turns and landmarks. It wouldn’t be hard to get back to the pee-break spot—they’d only turned twice.
The hard part would be finding his way from there to the willow tree, although he was pretty sure they had stayed on the same road the whole way. Then again, he had spent that period of time fading in and out of consciousness while tied up in the SUV’s trunk.
The Queen’s Road was a welcome relief from the bouncy dirt roads of the interior, but Benji’s nerves were just about fried. While doing his best to keep a stoic look on his face, he fidgeted with his hands nonstop, even more so when he realized where they were going.
“We’re going to the airport?”
No one answered Benji’s question, but turning into the airport parking lot was answer enough. They stopped at the curb in front of a hangar that sat across from the main entrance. The trunk opened and he climbed out.
Trent stood on the sidewalk waiting for him. “Don’t forget what I told you, Stone. If you value the ability to walk, that is.”
He turned and headed towards the hangar’s main door, leaving Benji to hurry to fall into place behind him. Two of the bodyguards followed.
They entered the large hangar, which was filled with small planes of all types. There were sleek private jets alongside those that were propeller-driven and used for shorter distances. Benji recognized the plane he had seen Trent and his father arrive in. It was larger than the others and seemed much newer. However, they were headed to a smaller, more practical, plane a little farther down the line. A dark-skinned Fijian pilot sat on the steps. He stood as he saw them approach.
“Are we ready?” Trent asked.
A sharp nod was all he got from the pilot before the man climbed the steps and disappeared into the plane. Trent, Benji, and the bodyguards followed. Six seats filled most of the cabin with some empty space behind them for luggage. They all fou
nd a seat and waited for the pilot to start the plane.
The plane shook slightly with the start of the engines—one on each wing—and a small roar filled the cabin as the propellers picked up speed. The plane rolled forward and they left the shadow of the hangar behind.
After a short taxi out onto the runway, Benji felt himself pressed back in his seat as they gathered speed for takeoff. The ground fell away, along with any chance he had of escape. He felt his heart drop a bit, and it wasn’t just from the plane’s ascent.
“Where are we going?”
Trent didn’t look back. He smirked and put his cell phone to his ear. “We’re in the air.” He listened to the person on the other end for a moment, then gave a simple “Okay” and hung up.
This time, he did turn back to face his captive. “Boy, have we got a surprise for you,” Trent said. “Don’t get too excited, now.”
Fat chance, Benji thought, but said nothing. Trent stared at him for a moment, then went back to whatever he was doing.
The whole point of this vacation had been to get away, to have some relaxation, fun adventures, and enjoy the islands that were now passing beneath them. Instead, Benji had nearly died more than once, and it was only his third day in.
Definitely better than high school.
Benji figured the best way to find help was to follow the river. Eventually, it would either lead him to a village or the ocean—either one meant finding help and finding his way back to his mom.
But first he had to deal with these waterfalls. The smaller one was flanked by twenty foot cliffs that stretched unbroken into the forest. In the bright moonlight, Benji looked over the edge and saw that the cliff offered plenty of foot and hand holds, and halfway down a grass-covered ledge jutted out like bad under bite.
“I can do this,” Benji told himself. Inside he wasn’t so sure; he would be climbing down twenty feet in the dark—not an easy job.
He eased over the edge backwards, groping with his feet for something to put his weight on. There! He tested the bit of rock and it held. A good hand hold proved easy to find and he made his way down the small cliff, taking a short break on the grassy ledge.
In another time, Benji might have been tempted to stay on the ledge. The night air was cool, but not quite cold. The moonlight covered the river and trees with a shadowy glow and the twin waterfalls played a constant, rushing soundtrack to the evening, drowning out even the loudest of insects. He felt himself dozing…and snapped out of it, shaking himself awake.
Gotta keep moving.
Benji climbed the rest of the way down and followed the river another fifty yards to the next waterfall. The way was difficult and littered with boulders. The water started slow and lazy from at the base of the smaller of the two falls, but gradually sped up to rolling whitewater before tumbling over the cliff to the rocks eighty feet below.
Climbing down a cliff that high in the dark was too much of a risk. Benji’s only option was to follow the cliff into the forest and try to find a way down that wouldn’t end with a broken neck. He left the river and the moonlight behind, entering the dark forest once again.
He wandered along, following the cliff. Soon, though, Benji walked out from under the cover of the trees and stood at the edge of a field of the same long, golden grass he had seen waving in the wind on his first day in the highlands. The grass was much taller than he had imagined, standing higher than Benji could reach on his tiptoes.
The plane bounced once on the pavement before smoothly rolling to the end. It stopped in front of a waiting Land Rover.
“Let’s go," Trent ordered as he stood.
One of the bodyguards opened the door and lowered the steps. Benji followed the man out, trailed by Trent and the other bodyguard. The fourteen-year-old captive looked for a way to escape, but it was at least fifty yards to the closest tree line—plenty of space for him to get shot before making it to the relative safety of the forest.
Benji sighed in defeat.
They loaded into the waiting SUV, and the skinny Fijian man behind the wheel shifted into drive. The well-maintained road allowed for a short, smooth trip to the mansion. They passed the front driveway and stopped at a side door typically reserved for the hired help.
Trent got out and strode to the entrance and swung the door wide open. One of his goons grabbed Benji by the shirt and dragged him from the car. He led the boy into the mansion, and they followed Trent down some stairs to the basement.
After a short walk down a hallway, they stopped in front of another closed door. When Trent turned, his lips stretched from ear to ear in a grin that reminded Benji of the Joker, Batman’s evil nemesis.
"You should be excited, Stone. There's a big surprise waiting for you."
With that, he unlocked the door, swung it open, and stepped aside. Benji's feet left the ground as the bodyguard threw him into the room. He sprawled face-first across the cement floor, his hat tumbling from his head. The heavy door slammed shut behind him and locked with a click that filled the small space.
"Benji?"
A soft voice reached Benji's ears and he looked up in disbelief. Keeping him company in the maintenance closet was a familiar face.
"Mom?"
36.
Escape
"Wha-what are you doing here?"
The stammered sentence was all he got out before his mom dragged him from the hard floor and into her warm embrace. She squeezed him until all the air was gone from his lungs and he had to push away. She held him by the shoulders at arm’s length, her eyes wide.
“Oh, Benji. What happened to you? Are you okay? Your face! Who did that? I was so worried about you!” Before he could answer any of her questions, she pulled him close again and gripped him tight.
“I’m okay, Mom, really. Just a bit banged up.” He touched his face gingerly, suddenly happy there weren't any mirrors around. His mom’s face was flushed, her red hair plastered to her sweaty forehead. Benji wondered how long she’d been in the hot closet. “What are you doing here?”
“When you didn’t come back from the waterfall, Josefa and I led a group to find you. We looked everywhere. I waited on the road for cars to pass and asked if anyone had seen you. No one had, of course.
“Then a new Land Rover stopped beside me. They opened their window and before I could say anything a gun was in my face. The man holding the gun told me to stay quiet and get in, so I did. From that point on one has said a word to me. Do you know where we are?”
“Mom, Mr. Ironside owns this place. Trent caught me and brought me here.” He heard footsteps coming down the hallway and spoke fast. “Listen, it’s true—that story about Magellan’s ruby. I heard Trent talking, and they were going to steal the ruby and kill all of Magellan’s descendants so no one could claim it. I found the hidden village and got to the ruby first, and took it and hid it. I almost died like five times!”
Laura’s eyes grew wider with each word. “Benji, listen real hard. If we can't get out of here, they’re going to try to use me as leverage to make you show them where the ruby is. Don’t tell them! No matter what, Benji, don’t tell them. They’ll kill those people.”
The footsteps stopped outside the door. They heard the jingle of a keychain.
“We have to get out of here!” Benji whispered.
They both looked around the small room for something that might help them escape. Laura’s eyes settled on a bucket on the floor.
“Benji, do you remember seeing the docks when you got in?”
Benji nodded.
“As soon as that door opens I want you to get out of here as fast as you can. Get to that dock and take a boat back to the main island. Don’t wait for me. I’ll meet you at the airport in Nadi. Do exactly as I say. Do you understand?”
Benji nodded again, and his mom scrambled for something in the back of the closet.
The door eased open and in walked Mr. Ironside, Trent, and Anders.
The big, evil grin of Ironside
senior vanished when the bucket of pesticide was thrown at his head, dowsing all three men in the stinking chemicals. They screamed and clawed at their faces and rubbed their burning eyes.
“Run, Benji! Go!”
Laura pushed Benji ahead of her and shoved past the Ironsides as they groped in vain for their escaping captives. They sprinted down the hallway and up the stairs and burst through the door into the bright afternoon sun. Benji was momentarily blinded after coming from the dim basement.
“To the docks! Run!” Laura pointed down the hill. “Go!”
Benji hesitated. He didn't want to leave his mom by herself. “But what about you? Come with me!”
“Don’t argue!” she said. “Just run as fast as you can. I’ll meet you at the airport. Go! Now!”
Laura turned and ran towards the back of the mansion. Benji trotted backward for a few steps, sick with worry. Then he did just what his mom told him to. He turned and ran as fast as he could.
Two guards watched the sprinting teen with confusion written across their faces. The door kicked wide open behind Benji. Mr. Ironside burst through, eyes red and face rubbed raw.
“Stop him!” he bellowed.
The confusion left the faces of the guards and they brought their guns up. Both men had Benji in their sights.
Suddenly, a massive explosion ripped through the calm midday air.
The Land Rover, parked only feet from the exploding propane tank, flipped and burst into flames. The shock wave blasted the two guards ten feet across the lawn, their guns tumbling harmlessly from their hands. All the windows of the mansion blew out simultaneously and shards of the obliterated propane tank rained down on everyone. Even fat Mr. Ironside was thrown airborne back inside his mansion.
“Mom,” Benji said under his breath. Behind the mansion, a huge fireball reached into the sky.