7-Dream a little Dream

7

Dream a little dream

It was vivid and real to Eisenhower.

He stood on a street made of concrete and bone.  Before him, stretched miles and miles of pavement.  All around him, in some sort of time lapse, forward motion, buildings began to build themselves.  They were made of dark stone and had some sort of extra corruption to them that Ein couldn’t quite quantify or describe.

These buildings surrounded him, making him feel constricted and claustrophobic. Suddenly, the streets became populated by…

…Rabbits?

Yes, rabbits.  They were all around him, flooding the street.  They all looked sad and dirty.  Somehow Ein knew they were hard working and had good hearts, but could never ascend out of the dirty and grimy streets.  This was because of the…

…Squirrels?

Yes, squirrels.  The squirrels lived in the buildings and looked down on the rabbits from their twisted windows and chuckled to themselves.  The squirrels were well dressed and all wore monocles and were very, very clean.  The reason for this, was because the rabbits had to pay the squirrels to live.

The squirrels had convinced the rabbits, sometime long ago, that this was how it had to be or else their society would somehow become communistic.  In fact, the squirrels were no better than the rabbits and had no actual knowledge of anything other than how to convince the rabbits that they were right.

Needless to say, this endless world of sad rabbits and evil squirrels was anything but a happy place.

Then, Ein saw it in the distance… An island off a dirty shore where the evil city stopped - just barely.  Ein could make out that the inhabitants of the island were…

…chipmunks?

Once again, yes, chipmunks.  They had somehow escaped the city of sad rabbits and evil squirrels and made themselves a home.  They worked hard to stay alive but they were happy.  They decided their own future.

Ein wanted to be on the island, he wanted to escape, but the city closed in on him…

… There was no escape.

 Ein’s eyes opened and he remembered where he was.

Ein slowly pulled himself upright on the inflated air mattress he had bought on the way to the dock.  He rubbed his throbbing head and remembered the events of the previous evening.  He wished he had picked up some ibuprofen on the way too.

Ein gave up and pulled himself out of bed.  Still in the clothes from last night, he wandered down the hallway back toward the Mess Hall.  Ein rolled his eyes as he began to hear the music from The Doctor’s iPod still blaring loudly from the room.  Ein walked into the Mess and found himself disgusted.

Cans and bottles and plastic cups littered the ground and tables, as well as half eaten chunks of food.  Candy and Stephanie had passed out on top of each other on one of the tables.

Stephanie’s breasts were bared.

Ein shook his head and waded through the garbage to get to The Doctor’s iPod and switch it off, returning the room to sudden silence.  Ein opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water and opened it.

There is no coffee.  Why didn’t we get coffee?

Ein’s brain reeled at the lack of caffeine to fight his hangover.  He slowly shuffled over to Candy and Stephanie, finding some paper towels, he covered her breast, then smelled himself.

He was going to have to find a shower.  They all were.

****

Cazador slowly woke up at the sound of the door opening.  His eyes befell the homely beauty from earlier.  He believed her name was Harriet.  She was holding a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice.

“Back for more, Senorita?”  Cazador managed a smile.  “You will have to untie me to see my true talents.”

Harriet ignored the advances.  “How did you sleep like that?”

Cazador could see the general confusion on her face and shrugged.  “When you have been in the places I have been, you learn to sleep when you can, regardless of how comfortable you are.”

Harriet seemed to accept that, setting the food on a small desk then dragging it over to Cazador.  She then pulled a chair over and sat down.

“Alright,” she began with a look of intensity on her face.  “Here’s how we are going to do this.  You are hungry, I’m sure?”

Cazador shrugged again, his grin returning.  “I could eat.”

“Okay.”  Harriet nodded.  “I am going to ask you questions and you are going to answer me.  Then I’ll feed you.”

Cazador refused to stop smiling.  “I assume, then, if I don’t answer you don’t feed me?”

“That’s the gist of it.”  Harriet responded, her face still hard and determined.

Cazador chuckled.  “My dear, Senorita, torture doesn’t seem something you are capable of.”

“Try me.”  Harriet said, hiding her wavering confidence the best she could.

Cazador stared at her for a long time then spoke.  “Alright… try me.”

Harriet nodded.  “Alright, what’s your real name?”

“I gave that to you.”  Cazador responded, still watching Harriet’s eyes.

Harriet scrunched up her face.  “Cazador is Spanish for ‘hunter’.”

Cazador’s grin became a smile.  “It is the name on my soul.”

Harriet shook her head.  “Bad start.”

Harriet took a spoonful of the cereal and dropped it on the floor.

“Tsk, tsk.  Such a waste.”  Cazador said, sarcastically.

Harriet looked at him and he cocked his head to one side.  “Let me save you some time, Chica.”

Cazador lashed out a foot and violently kicked the desks legs out from under it.  The cereal was sent crashing to the floor.

Harriet stared, shocked as Cazador explained.  “One time, in the field, I was lost behind enemy lines…”

Harriet’s gaze came back to meet Cazador’s as he spoke.  His eyes were suddenly cold and lifeless as he took himself somewhere he hated to go.

“Half a battalion of the enemy was looking for me while I crawled through the brush and jungle.  I was lost for eight days while they searched and I waited for my allies to make a move.  I became El Diablo.  I ate the blood of snakes to survive.  Raw, because a fire would alert them to my presence.”  Harriet shrunk back in her chair as the darkness of Cazador’s story washed over her.  “So you will have to excuse me if your terribly thought out cereal torture does not have the effect you would have hoped for, Senorita.”

Harriet struggled to find words.  “I’m sorry.”

Cazador’s eyes warmed again and he smiled.  “Don’t be, you are only worrying for yourself and your friends sakes.  I’m assuming you found the merchandise hold.  Now you know that what I’m saying is true?”

Harriet nodded in response.  Cazador continued, “Chavez is a bad man.  He will come within the week with five to ten others.  They will all be armed.  They will be trained. When they find you all here, they will rape and kill you all.”

Harriet gritted her teeth.  “What do we do?”

“Let me go and I will show you.” Cazador spoke with desperation, but inside he was grinning ear to ear.  He had her.  She was going to let him go.  He was going to be free again, and then…

“Harriet.”  Thad’s voice startled the two of them.  Harriet spun around to see her skinny friend in the doorway looking concerned.

“You can’t."  He said quietly.

Harriet nodded.  “I know.”

Harriet stood and began to walk through to the door.

Cazador suddenly let his rage get to him.  He began cursing in Spanish.  “You stupid puta, kids.  They are going to kill everyone, don’t condemn me to the same fate!”

Harriet didn’t respond and her and Thad left the room and shut the door while Cazador screamed obscenities from inside.  Thad groaned, then he took a deep breath.

“We have to tell everyone else,” he said, concerned.

“No,” Harriet said and Thad turned, confused.  “We can’t trust him.”

Thad shook his head.  “But if what he said is true, then we-”

Harriet cut him off.  “Just give me a day to think on it, Thad.  I’ll figure something out. Just a day.”

Harriet then turned and walked down the hallway.

TO BE CONTINUED…

6-Under Control

6

Under Control

As Eisenhower approached what had at one time been the mess hall, he heard the music.  It was loud music, some kind of rap song he was certainly not familiar with, the kind of music women shake erotically to.  Ein took a deep, agitated breath.  He was not in the mood for whatever awaited him around the corner.

Ein turned into the mess hall and was confronted with exactly what he expected; The Doctor had plugged his I-Pod into the P.A. of the room, somehow, and was now blasting it through the large space, using it like an amphitheater.  He and the women had pushed tables aside to make a crude dance area.  In the center of the floor was The Doctor, surrounded by his gaggle of females all grinding and shaking their asses up against him while he moved, only slightly, while sipping at some kind of mixed drink.

Ein sighed at the display and The Doctor finally noticed him.  “Well, if it isn’t the hero of the hour!”  The doctor had to scream to be heard over the music.

The women stopped dancing and all looked over at Ein.  They then began clapping and cheering.  Ein’s frustrated face slowly turned into a surprised smile.  Six very beautiful women cheering for you tended to make it hard to frown.

The Doctor broke free of the flock as they began to go back to dancing.  He moved over to Ein, “Hell of a thing you did back there, boss!”

Ein stared in confusion, after all, forty minutes ago this man was questioning everything he did and said.

“Oh, come on,” The Doctor said, as he picked up on Ein’s Confusion.  “Don’t take that personally.  Everybody’s got their own way of looking at something.  I just wanted you to know we had options.”

Ein raised an eyebrow.  “You wanted me to throw the man overboard.”

The Doctor chuckled, “Tomato….tomato,” The Doctor pronounced it differently each time he said it.  “It’s over now, why don’t you come party!”

Ein shook his head, completely lost now.  “Do you really think it’s an a-a-appropriate time to party?”

“IT’S ALWAYS APPROPRIATE! Right Ladies?!” He turned to the women who had been watching the conversation.  They responded with a loud ‘YES!’ all in unison.

The Doctor pointed at the blondes, “Candy, why don’t you make the world’s shortest hero a drink, eh?”

She grinned and went to it.  Eisenhower frowned at The Doctor as he managed to insult Ein, yet again.

“Tiffany, Stephanie, would you be so kind as it show our captain how to dance?”

They smiled and moved over to Ein, taking his hand and arms on either shoulder.  Ein -blushed and became flustered.  “Um…er…. ladies you don’t h-have to…” He looked backward, desperately, at The Doctor who was grinning.  “Do you really think in our current sit-sit-situation we should-”

The Doctor cut him off.  “He’s tied up and locked up downstairs with a concussion and a gash in his head.  Relax, chief!”

The women started to move around him, their moves nothing but sexual.  Ein was lost and completely unable to move.  Like a deer in headlights.  He began to babble, “Hi, so you are Stephanie… and… and… you must be Tiffany… do you go to the same college that… The Doctor a-a-and I go to?”

The blonde one, suddenly dipped squatting down in front of Ein, her head coming dangerously near to his crotch, she then stood, her arms gliding up Ein’s sides.

“Not much of a dancer, huh?”  Tiffany asked as she pressed her body against his.

“I…er…um…well…” was all Ein could fumble out.

Suddenly, Stephanie pressed up against Ein’s backside, sandwiching him between her and Tiffany.  “Just move with us, baby.”  Stephanie said.

With that, Ein felt four hands on his hips.  The three started to sway in unison and Ein was on cloud nine.

*****

“So, what exactly are we looking for?” Thad asked, his voice becoming increasingly whinier as the search continued.

“I just have a hunch, alright?”  She said, as she moved to the next room and opened the hatch door.  More empty rooms.

Harriet had grabbed Thad and began a systematic search of the rig.  Cazador’s words had gotten to her and she had to confirm it.  If this Chavez person was real and he did use this place as a drop point, she would find something.  Guns, drugs, anything.  Of course, she couldn’t tell any of this to Thad because if she did she would have to tell him she snuck in to see the mercenary… and she would have to explain why.

Needless to say, some things are better left unsaid.  After all, they had found nothing so far.  It was turning out that the mercenary had been lying to gain his freedom.  Harriet had to be sure, though.

“Seriously, there is a party upstairs.  I could be getting my freak on.” Thad whined again.

Harriet stopped and took a deep breath before turning to face Thad.  “You want to go back?  Fine be my guest, but see how much tail you get.  Women tend to like men… men who don’t turn tail and run when their friends are in danger.”

There was a hard silence that followed and Thad’s face darkened.  He looked away.

Harriet’s anger melted and was replaced with regret.  “I’m sorry, Thad.  That was fair.  Anyone would have run in that situation.”

“You didn’t.”  Thad responded.  His jaw clenched as he stared down the hallway.  “Ein didn’t either.  Just me.”

“Thad… I…” Harriet tried to find the words but Thad cut her off.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s just get this done.”  Thad said, then continued down the hallway.

Harriet sighed and followed.  “We only have this wing left to do.”

Thad nodded.  “Okay.”

They reached a large door.  It wasn’t like the rest on the doors on the upper levels.  This one looked like a bulk head on a submarine.  It had an old metal crank on the front to open it.

Thad stepped forward and grabbed the crank, twisting it to open the door…

Harriet had a bad feeling about this…

****

The next four hours of Eisenhower’s life were a complete blur.  He danced with beautiful women while drinking an uncountable amount of cocktails, and all on an empty stomach.  Not a drinker, Ein was feeling the effects almost immediately.  Now, Ein was being assisted down the hall, his arm slung over the one who had offered to help him get back to his room, Eggroll.

I have got to figure out what her name is.

“Thanks f-for helping me.”  Ein said, slurring his words.

Her soft face smiled and she shook her head.  “It’s not a problem.  You looked like you needed to have some fun.”

She was perfectly spoken, no accent, which told Ein she had been born and raised in the U.S. regardless of descent.  “I’m k-k-kinda surprised you’d choose to help me instead of staying at the party.”

She smiled at him again and Ein felt a stirring deep inside himself.  She had a kindness to her that Ein hadn’t noticed before.  It was hard to notice certain things while The Doctor was around.

“The Doctor is… well… something else,” she said.

Ein scuffed, “Yeah he’s something alright… I-I-I… have a few choice words for him.”

She raised her eyebrow, “He knows how to have fun, and everybody needs some fun.”

Ein suddenly felt bad.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult your… um…”

She laughed.  “My, what?  He’s just a friend of a friend.  I’m here with Stephanie, and honestly between you and me I don’t think he remembers my name.”

You have no idea

“What is your name?”  Ein asked, as they got to his room.

“My name is Kim.”  She said, with a smile.

Kim?  Really?

“Well it… it… it… it’s nice to meet you Kim,”  Ein said, and extended his hand.

“The pleasure is mine, Eisenhower.”  She said, and bent slightly to kiss his cheek.  “And I think it’s really brave, what you did.”

She turned and walked down the hall.  Ein touched his cheek and smiled.

Today, he was six feet tall.

****

Harriet and Thad stared at the room as the lights flickered on.  It was some kind of large hold, stainless steel walls with no widows.  “What the fuck…”

Harriet stepped into the room.  “This is going to be a problem.”

The room was stocked to the brim with boxes; large crates, the kind you would find on cargo boats that you move with forklifts.  The lids of the boxes were missing, and inside each where one of two things.  Half of them had tightly packed brown paper bags filled with, what could only be, some kind of narcotic.  The other half of the boxes were full to the brim with every type of machine gun that Harriet could imagine.

Thad turned to Harriet, “This is what you were looking for?  What the hell is this, Harriet?”

“This?” Harriet responded frowning, “This is the worst case scenario.”

TO BE CONTIUED…

5-Hunter

5

Hunter

 Ein shut the large metal door behind him, leaving only himself, the doctor and Mr. Machete.  Ein had pushed everyone else out of the room, the minute their unwanted guest had awakened screaming in pain.  Ein turned back to the man who was tied up in the chair.  His face was marred with pain and anger; his dark eyes seemed to take in the situation as fast as possible, assessing his captors.

As he seemed to examine Ein and the doctor, his outlook seemed to change.  Slowly he looked less and less like a cornered tiger and more like the butt of a cruel joke. Suddenly, he began to laugh out loud.  The laughter was a low and sultry noise, something that would come out of a Bond Villain.  He spoke, something in low rolling Spanish.  His voice was hypnotic, like Antonio Banderas, Robert Molteval, or that Dos Equis guy.

The doctor twisted to look at Ein.  “Do you speak Mexican?”

Ein raised an eyebrow.  “No, because that’s not a language, I took a little Spanish.”

“What did he say?”  The doctor asked, ignoring the sarcastic insult.

“I think he called himself a bad word…”  Ein said trialing off confused.

“I said,” The Mexican began.  His English was dripping with accent, “That I am a damn idiot because I have been captured by tourists.”

Ein did his best to look like a seasoned soldier.   It looked more like he had to poop.  “How do you know we are tourists?”

The Mexican grinned, “Well, my first clue is the flip flops on your feet.”

Ein looked down and sighed, he indeed was wearing a pair of red flip flops.

“My second is the fact that this one,” The Mexican nodded to The doctor, “is not wearing a shirt, it doesn’t help that he has been staring at me, scared shitless since I woke up.”

“Okay, we’re not combat trained.”  Ein admitted, “but we aren’t tourists.  This is my oil rig.”

The Mexican looked confused, “Yours?”

Ein nodded, still trying to look stern.  The Mexican chuckled again, “Well that will be very interesting news to Chavez.”

“Is that your name?” Ein pressed.  “Chavez?”

The Mexican shook his head, “No my friend, I am not Chavez.”

“I’m not your friend.”  Ein stated angrily.  The doctor whipped his head around at Ein as if to ask what the hell he was doing.

The Mexican’s eyes narrowed.  “You do not want to be my friend.  That is too bad, Mr. Tourist.  It is better to be my friend.”

“Who are you?”  Ein pushed ahead, his confidence peaking.

The Mexican’s smile returned.  “You can call me…Cazador.”

“Who is Chavez?”  Eisenhower pressed.

The Mexican just laughed, “Oh, I am sorry Mr. Tourist, but that is information for my friends only, and you have clearly stated you are not my friend.”

Ein nodded.  “Alright, fine.  Look, my friend here is going to fix your eye while I try to figure out what to do with you.”

“Kill me.”  Cazador spoke instantly.  His low seductive voice became menacing and serious.  His dark eyes seemed to peer into Ein’s soul.  “You should kill me Gringo.  Every second I live, the chance I will get free increases.  If that happens, I will repay you for my head.

Ein tried to hold steady but his confidence was beginning to break.  “I’m… I mean we’re… I am not a monster.”

“Too bad for you, Mr. Tourist,” The Mexican continued.  His eyes locked on Ein like a hungry wolf, “because if you are not a monster, you are a victim.”

****

What none of them knew, was that Cazador had woken up in that chair long before The Doctor had started to patch him up.  Cazador had realized that he was bound and faked being unconscious so that he could gather information.

 This had worked perfectly.

Cazador knew that there were ten people in the little group.  Seven were female and three were male.  Six of the women seemed to be eye candy or party favors.  There was one smart one and that was the one the would-be leader was in love with.

He knew that she didn’t share the emotion.

Cazador had learned that, from the hallway and the show in front of him when the short, weird-looking man was seconds away from confessing his love to the girl.  Cazador had watched her face while he had stammered through his words.  He had watched her face contort and become full of pain, already trying to find away to let him down easy.

It was funny to Cazador that the men who become infatuated with women never think that the women know about it.  Like it is some sort of a deep dark secret.

The women always know.

Cazador had also figured out that the one good-looking man had wanted to kill him and the short stubby one had fought hard for that not to happen.  This was interesting to him.  Then, of course, there was the third man.  The coward. Cazador was not worried about the coward.

In conclusion, Cazador knew that these ten young people were, not only, not here to kill him, but had just accidently bumbled into the situation.  No matter what the reason, however, Cazador had to get free because Chavez was due for a visit.  Cazador could not be visible when that happened.

He felt bad for the kids, but such is life.

The Doctor had fixed Cazador up without a word while Ein sat in a corner worrying himself into an ulcer.  After that they had left the room and shut the door behind them.  In the hall, the stubby one had told the rest that under no circumstance are they to enter this room, until they figure out what to do.

Cazador knew that it was only a matter of time.

****

Thad

Cazador had started to believe he was wrong.  He sat for, what felt like days, waiting in silence.  Passing the time, he had searched the room for away to free himself.  Failing.  The he had counted the panels on the ceiling and sung his favorite CD to himself, start to finish.

Finally, he heard the door click and begin to open and Cazador smiled.  He would finally get a shot to get free.  The door slid open and he saw the coward standing there.  His eyes filled with something dark.

“Ah, I see.”  Cazador’s words rolled off his tongue with a knowing ring to them.

Thad shut the door behind him.

“I should have known you would come.”  Cazador continued, condescension dripping from his tongue.

Thad calmly walked over to Cazador then raised his hand and slapped him across the face.  It made a loud cracking noise that echoed inside the room.  “SHUT UP!”

Cazador took the blow and gritted his teeth, before working his tongue at his lip to see if it was bleeding.  He then looked back to the tall skinny wisp of a man in the Hawaiian shirt, trying to look tough.

“I want answers.”  Thad said, his voice on the verge of cracking and his eyes watering.  The rage inside him was destroying him.

Cazador shook his head.  “No, you do not.”

Thad closed his fist and punched Cazador.  The punch was pathetic, and Cazador could tell he had never punched anyone before.  The coward had probably done more damage to his hand than Cazador’s face.

“You know, your slaps hurt more than your punches."  Cazador said, and Thad ground his teeth and clenched his fists.

“I SAID I WANT SOME FUCKING ANSWERS!” Thad shouted and then began a desperate striking combo, punching and slapping for a good minute.

The blows were pathetic.  The boy positively oozed self loathing.  When he had finished, he was breathing hard and Cazador had a small cut on his lip.

“You did not come here for answers boy,” Cazador said, beginning to get angry.  “At least not the ones I can give you with words.”

Thad started to catch his breath and began to get a second wind.  Cazador finally exploded.  “You came here because you are a COWARD!  You could not even stand up to me when your friends’ lives were on the line.  You are here to beat me, in hopes that it will make you feel better, but it won’t.  You want to punish yourself?  Untie me and I will punish you!”

“YOU AERN’T GOING TO DO SHIT!” Thad screamed, tears streaming down his face.

“FREE ME!  Redeem your cowardice, and become a man!”  Cazador’s ploy was strong.  The boy was weak in this state and he might be able to manipulate him into it.

The thought rattled in Thad’s brain, but slowly, he brought himself down and caught his breath.

Cazador smiled.  “I did not think so.  Leave me now, coward.”

Thad scowled then turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Cazador sighed and took a deep breath.

Damn it.

****

Harriet

Hours passed and Cazador occupied himself by trying to name all the James Bond movies in a row.  Eventually, began to open again.  This time, it was the woman.  The woman that was not dick candy.

She was, however, not what anyone on this rig thought she was.  At least, not anyone but Cazador.  She slowly shut the door behind her and Cazador went to work.

“Hello senorita.”  His voice had dipped into seductive again.

She stepped into the room not speaking.

“I can see in your eyes you are wondering why you are here.  Let me answer this question for you, senorita.” He began to speak, his eyes locking with hers.  “You are here because you are someone very different than these people think you are.   You are here because you have a secret.”

Harriet stood there listening.  Cazador continued, “Your secret is that you are attracted to violence, drawn to it in a sexual manner.  I would guess that you go out to clubs to find the scariest man you can and take him home with you.  This is a side which none of your friends have ever seen.  Especially not the stubby one who is in love with you, by the way.”

Harriet nodded and finally spoke, “I know.”

Cazador smiled, “Of course you do.”

A silence fell over the room as the two stared at each other, Harriet then exploded forward grabbing Cazador’s lips and pressing her own to his.  Hard.  She kissed him, full and robust, giving him tongue.  Cazador was surprised by her aggression.  Finally, after some time, she released him.

“Untie me and I will show you.”  He said with a smile.

She seemed to think about it then turned and began to walk out.

“Wait.”  He said and she stopped, “Someone is coming, probably this week, his name is Chavez.”

She looked over his shoulder, “Who is he?”

“He is a smuggler, he has been using this rig to hide merchandise.  He will come to do his pick up and he will bring men.  These people are killers,” Cazador explained.

Harriet took a deep breath.  “I can’t trust you.”

She walked out.

Cazador took a deep breath.

Damn it.

TO BE CONTIUED…