Eldorado (11 page)

“Here, you can use this,” she said. “I’ll clear a space for you.”

She moved some clothes and shoes out of one corner. Again Richard was struck by her lithe, cat-like ease of movement.

“You can stay here tonight,” she said. “Tomorrow morning you’ll have to be gone. Make any trouble for me and I’ll kill you myself.”

“I won’t make any trouble.”

“There should be some dinner available around now,” she said. “I’ll take you.”

They headed for the center of the building, where Richard had noticed the smoke from the cooking fires.

“I’ve got some money,” he said as they walked. “I can pay you – you know – board for the night and for the food…”

“Money’s not much use around here,” she said, again with the tiniest hint of a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Just call it a favour. Maybe you’ll get a chance to return it someday.”

“I hope so,” he said.

A small crowd milled around the central open area. The place had the overwhelming reek of smoke, burnt meat and spices. Richard hadn’t realized until that moment how hungry he was.

Several fires burned in a ring beneath the hole in the building’s roof, and smoke swirled in a thick column toward the distant opening. Cooks turned spits of meat over one or two of the fires. Large cooking pots on metal tripods dangled over several others. There were casual lines in front of some of the fires. Carrie joined one of them and he stood beside her.

“Do we have to pay for the food?” he whispered.

“It’s free as long as you live and work here,” she said. “Everybody knows everybody else, so we all know whether somebody’s doing their share.”

“What if they’re not?”

“Then they’re down the road.”

“What about me?

“I’ll vouch for you this time. If you were going to stay…” she turned and stared at him, “which you’re not – you’d be put to work doing something.”

Out of the corner of his eye Richard saw Doyle approaching. He stomped up to them and grabbed Richard by the shoulder.

“No work, no food – that’s the rule!”

Richard jerked his shoulder out of Doyle’s grip. He didn’t dare retaliate after the warning from Tucker.

“He’s with me,” said Carrie.

“What? So you like this Ripper scum better than me?” yelled Doyle, working himself into a fury. He grabbed her roughly by the wrist. She resisted and he brutally wrenched her arm behind her back.

Richard stepped in, “Leave her alone,” he said, jamming his body between them and forcing Doyle to release his grip.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” said Doyle. “I’ve had enough of you, asshole!” He slammed his fist into Richard’s jaw, knocking him to the ground, then jumped on top of him. Richard landed a solid punch to Doyle’s nose that drove him back and stunned him momentarily.

Recovering, Doyle flew at him in a rage, locking both hands around his throat. Richard grabbed at Doyle’s powerful forearms, trying to break his hold, but he could feel his strength ebbing away. In desperation, he head-butted Doyle’s already-bleeding nose. Doyle screamed in pain and released his grip.

Suddenly Doyle was pulled off. It was the giant Richard had met earlier, flanked by Tucker. The giant had the struggling Doyle pinned by the arms. Richard sat up and shook his head to clear it. The giant was barely able to restrain Doyle, and a couple of other men standing nearby finally stepped in, each holding one of Doyle’s arms.

“Is this your idea of not causing trouble?” Tucker yelled down at Richard.

“He was protecting me,” said Carrie. She pointed at Doyle, “This moron attacked me.”

“Fuckin’ bitch!” screamed Doyle.

“Take him away,” said Tucker, pointing at Doyle. “Let him cool off somewhere for a while.”

Richard got to his feet.

“You’re asking for it, man,” Tucker said, turning to face him.

“It wasn’t his fault,” said Carrie. “We were minding our own business.”

“Well, trouble seems to have a way of finding him,” said Tucker, still glaring at Richard. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, this one time, for Carrie’s sake. You’d better not test my good nature again.”

Tucker strode angrily away. Richard shakily brushed himself off.

Carrie turned to him, “I’m impressed,” she said, openly smiling for the first time. “You took a big chance helping me. If Tucker had been in one of his moods they probably would have executed you.”

“I couldn’t just stand there. Thanks for sticking up for me – again. Looks like Doyle’s really got it in for me.”

“It’s not just you. I had something like a relationship with him for a while. I’ve been done with him for ages now, but he refuses to accept it.”

They got some food and walked back to her space to eat. In the distance, to their left, someone played a tranquil melody on a flute. The breath-filled notes echoed off the walls and drifted all around them.

“Have you been living here a long time?” Richard said, sitting beside her on the bed as they ate.

“I used to live in Vancouver – with my husband. It wasn’t that long ago – or was it? I guess it was, actually. After he died, I couldn’t scrape together enough money to support myself. I didn’t want to end up as one of the endless swarm of hookers fighting to stay alive in East Van, so I took off and came out here.”

“Your husband died – does it bother you to talk about it?”

“No, not really – it was a long time ago now. I got married early – I was only eighteen.”

“How did he die?”

She smiled thinly. "He was killed by a dead horse."

"What!"

A shadow seemed to fall across her face. “Allan, that’s my husband, joined the US army to fight in the resource wars against the Chinese – I guess it was almost five years ago. He couldn’t find a job, and we needed the money. He made a pact with one of his army buddies. They vowed that if either of them was killed and the other survived, the survivor would come and explain to the dead man’s family what had happened, and do whatever they could to help them.”

The flute player’s melody turned to a minor key and softened to a whisper. Carrie paused, as if collecting her thoughts, then continued.

“Ray, Allan’s buddy, lived on the East coast of the US. How he made it here I have no idea. It must have cost him a fortune. He would never tell me the details, but I know he flew here – you can imagine.

“Anyway, he kept his promise. He came to see me and told me what happened. Allan was a member of a unit that was sent to investigate a dead Chinese horse lying at the side of the road on one of the supply routes. It was reported to be carrying some equipment they thought our guys could use," she stared down at her dinner plate.

"They're using horses?" said Richard.

"The Chinese are, apparently. Maybe they both are. I haven't heard anything lately, but I know the fuel shortages were really bad a few years ago. They're probably worse now. Even back then the Chinese were in a bad way, resource wise. From what Ray told me, their technology was fifty years old. They didn't care. They thought they could win with sheer numbers. They may be right.

“Allan’s unit went to investigate this dead horse, and it turned out it had been booby-trapped. When they went to open the pack on its back, it exploded. It killed three men, including Allan, and wounded four others. Not bad for one dead horse,” she laughed emptily.

“Ray stayed for a while and tried to help me, but he had his own family back east. I convinced him I’d be okay, and he finally agreed to leave. There wouldn’t have been much he could do anyway. He’s probably in the same boat with his own family – maybe even worse. I hear things are pretty desperate down there.”

Her voice broke slightly as she continued, “I wish to God I’d never agreed to let him enlist…I think about the dreams we had – a home, a family, children – some kind of life – growing old together."

She tossed her hair absently in a way that he found surprisingly charming.

"Then,” she said, “In a split-second – with one dead horse – it was all gone forever. After all this time I still think about it. Isn't that crazy?"

"No, it’s not crazy – it’s Human.”

She stared across the space at the fading photograph. “They say time heals all wounds, but I don’t think that’s right. It just buries them a little deeper every year until eventually they’re out of sight, but never really forgotten.”

“So you never found anyone else in all this time?"

“Other than Doyle?” she laughed. “You may not have noticed, but there aren’t exactly hordes of eligible bachelors running around Surrey these days – though I guess Bert and Karl are still available.” They both laughed.

The melody of the flute player grew louder and more intense. It switched to a series of sharp bursts of staccato notes.

A male voice nearby yelled, “Shut the hell up!” The flute playing stopped abruptly.

“So what about you?” Carrie said.

Richard told her about his parents’ murder, his promise to his dying mother, and his search for Danny.

“He’s been gone more than a week now,” he continued. “I went to the police, but they’ve got more important problems. So it’s up to me.”

“What makes you think he came out here?”

“I found his journal. From what I can gather he and Zonk came out here all the time.”

"Zonk?"

"Danny’s dog. Danny never went anywhere without him, so it’s almost certain Zonk would have come along. Zonk showed up at home a few days ago, but without Danny.”

Richard put his empty plate down on the bed beside him. “The journal’s vague,” he said, “but it sounds like Danny stumbled onto something out here – something he thought was important. Does the word ‘Eldorado’ mean anything to you?”

She thought for a second, then said, “No, not a thing.”

“He talks about King George Sky-train station,” Richard continued. “He gives directions to a location, by the number of blocks, but he doesn’t say what’s there. That’s where I met up with the Rippers – I think I found a landmark from the journal, but nothing to indicate what happened to Danny. I’m not even sure I got the block count right.”

“What is this ‘Eldorado’?”

“I have no idea. It was scrawled in some of the pages of the journal. There’s also the words ‘Wild Rose Energy’, with the ‘i’ in ‘Wild’ replaced with an asterisk – like this.” He grabbed his pack and showed her the copy he’d made of the entry.

“Means nothing to me,” she said, shaking her head.

“Now that I’ve seen the place, it seems pointless to keep wandering around out here. I’m not even sure why I came – I don’t know what I was expecting to find.”

Richard hung his head. “My uncle helped me jump the Food Train. A guard shot him; he’s probably dead because of me. I should have stayed in town and waited for news. I kept picturing Danny lying hurt or dying in an alley somewhere…”

“You did what you had to do,” she said.

She drew her knees up underneath her on the bed. “So what happens now?”

“I guess I’ll head back to town and see what I can dig up. I’ve got to get back anyway for Innovation Day.”

“Innovation Day?”

“You’ve never heard of Innovation Day?” He stared at her in disbelief. “It’s a huge deal - a new holiday celebrating Mankind’s ability to control their environment through innovation. The theme for this inaugural year is: ‘Man’s Triumph Over Nature’.”

“You’re kidding.”

He felt his face flush. “What?”

Her lip curled into a sneer. “Man’s Triumph Over Nature?”

“I’m leading a project that will be one of the key parts of Vancouver’s contribution,” he announced proudly. “I’m actually under a lot of pressure to get back.”

“Things may be tough in Surrey,” she said, shaking her head, “but at least we’ve got a grip on reality.”

He frowned at her, indignant. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “Some things you just have to accept. Maybe Mankind should show a little humility for a change and face up to the fact that there’s stuff out there beyond their control.”

His lips tightened. “I guess you’re entitled to your opinion.”

Neither spoke for a few seconds.

“Hey, don’t get mad,” she finally said, smiling, and his irritation melted away.

“I might be able to scare you up a bicycle,” she said as they gathered up their dishes and set them by the door. “Then at least you'd be mobile.”

“You’d do that? Why?”

“Maybe you’re growing on me. We can try tomorrow, but there’s a pretty major hitch…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“It has to do with who’s in charge of lending out equipment,” she said.

“Let me guess…”

“Doyle,” they both said together. Carrie smiled, “You
are
a bright one. We take turns overseeing the lending out of resources – including the bikes. The assignment changes every month. This month happens to be Doyle’s turn.”

“We’ve had it, then,” said Richard. “He’s the last person that would ever lend me a bike.”