Act V: And the Light is Nearly Gone
Eric scrambled for the nearest tree. There was another shot. He felt the shockwave brush past his leg. He cowered between the roots as best he could. Another shot--this one hitting the bark.
Eric had no gun. The shooter--the dragon--could just stand up, waltz around with his gun and pop him off. The guy was probably doing that now.
Running was the only option. Where? There was the road. His bike. There was a crevasse into a cave. A tiny gully way south. The road--too far, and his bike--no protection. The crevasse--a trap. The gully--useless. Wait. The mirror tree. He knew exactly where that was. Adrenaline was surging through his veins. The sound of his heart pounding was louder than the gunshots.
Eric's higher functioning brain had not worked out all the details. All he knew was that he had to get to the mirror tree. He looked and found it. It was a bit shorter, and fatter, and sort of squirmier than the others.
Eric jumped up and ran for it. As he did so he caught a glimpse of the dragon, who was indeed on his feet. Less accuracy than lying down still. Eric's feet pumped and left little energy for breathing.
The next shot missed. The one after that hit his leg. He fell and scrambled to the tree. The mirror tree was mostly dead, with a large hollow in the center. It had previously been called the hollow tree, before Saudade, as a little girl, saw a movie where a dead person talked to a live one through a mirror. She stole a hand mirror from her mothers bedroom and met Eric at the hollow tree, where they tried to use the mirror to contact her late father. The hand mirror failed to bring back her father. Sauda blamed the mirror, and returned the next day with another one. Then another. And another. Then a mirror from the school bathroom, and then a full length mirror. The mirrors, being stolen, had to be left in the tree. After that, the proper name was obvious.
Eric took one of the hand mirrors and used it to peer around the tree. He got a damn good look at the dragon, who was approaching at a walk. He stopped immediately and fired at the mirror. It shattered into a hundred pieces. Eric grabbed another hand mirror and looked. The dragon was standing still. He shot that mirror too. Eric pulled out the mirror from the bathroom. It showed the dragon behind a tree.
Eric watched the dragon take aim and shoot the corner off. It was a strange sort of intimacy between too men trying to kill each other. And it was fairly clear that the one holding the rifle was confused and scared. Eric pressed the mirror game, sliding the mirror out just a little each time, letting the dragon dismantle it one chunk at a time. Could it really be this easy?
/* note: rifle is AR-15 w/ 30 round mag */
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
Biff, and a girl, were waiting next to a large rental truck when Dave arrived in his F150.
"What's this about?" asked Dave.
"Dave, meet Daisy. Daisy is Candy's sister."
"Oh...." said Dave.
Daisy gave him a half-smile.
"What do you need?" asked Dave.
"You're gonna ride with Daisy and make a furniture delivery. Also I need your truck."
"What? Whose furnit--wait what do you mean my truck? Its my truck."
"I need to haul something."
"Get another rental truck."
"I need to haul something...quickly. And away from the eyes of law enforcement and various thug assholes that call themselves a family."
"Oh no. Oh no hell no. Fuck no. You're not going fuck up my truck. Get your own fucking truck. I take the whole night off to help you out. You're not gonna-"
"Dave, please," said Daisy.
Dave jerked his thumb as his vehicle. "These things don't grow on trees. I had to save up three years for that."
"Damnit Dave," said Biff, "people are dying. Her sister is dead-"
"And I'm sorry for that," said Dave.
"-and there is another woman who will most certainly be murdered if we don't make these two deliveries as soon as fucking possible. We shouldn't be involved but we are. And I can't ...I can't just sit out and let this shit go down bro. I can't. And if you want to be my friend after tomorrow you can't either."
Dave glared at Biff. "Fuck!"
"Good man." Biff held out his hands for the keys.
"If you don't bring that back to me, you're buying me a Trans Am," said Dave.
"Fine." Biff took the keys and started walked to the pickup.
"A blue one. With a t-top."
"Whatever!"
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
Back in the white forest Eric had done his best to manage his leg but he knew it was getting worse, and the adrenaline had worn off. Now all he had was anger, and thousands of glass shards circling his body. He drew it out as long as he could, trying to sort of maximize the number of shots he could goad out of his enemy. The dragon appeared to have no shortage of bullets, and no interest in changing the status quo. He clearly believed, still, that those mirrors were a threat, even though he had seen no gun. He used up another mirror and reached into the tree for another one, only to discover that there was one left. It was a hand mirror. Old, heavy, likely metal. The rim was white with purple flowers sculpted onto it. He felt his heart sink. This was good for one shot. Maybe two, max.
Then the thing happened that Eric had been waiting for. A click. It sounded like nothing compared to all of the gunshots but it was clear and unmistakable. He watched his enemy look down as his rifle in surprise. It was a quick glance but to Eric it happened in slow motion. Then Eric screamed.
He was out of adrenaline. His leg was shot and bleeding out, and he didn't have any useful narcotics on his person. It was just him and his iron will. So he screamed a blood-curdling battle cry and ran for his enemy. The dragon was close; it turned out he wasn't that great of a shot and didn't even have a scope on his rifle. In fact, depending on how you looked at it, the dragon was just one tree over from Eric.
Eric crossed the distance, screaming to keep the pain at bay, and descended upon his victim.
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
There was an enormous line of cars waiting to go through the roadblock on Kemp road. It stood to reason that similar blocks existed on the other roads. Three police cruisers and as many men were comparing the occupants of every car with the printouts of Sauda's face they had in their hands. Trunks were getting opened. No space was left unturned. The police even made Dave and Daisy open up the trunk, and the got in and fished around.
"I need you to pull some of this furniture out so we can look in the back," said one of the cops.
"I ain't pulling this fucking shit out for you," said Dave.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm fucking not. I don't know the all the laws about probable cause, but I'd be happy to let this truck sit here for twelve hours while I call my uncle who is a lawyer and ask him about it. He's currently in china. Might take a while to reach him though; he's a heavy sleeper."
"Sir hand me your keys," said another cop.
"Can't. My lady friend here," Dave gestured at Daisy, "stuck the truck key up her asshole. You're gonna have to get a female cop down here to work her over."
Daisy gave them the finger.
This time the cops didn't say anything. They looked about ready to tackle and arrest him, which would seriously and harmfully compound their furniture mission. Behind them, cars started laying in on their horns. One of the cops, Craig Capulet, looked behind him. The line was at least...four times as long as it was just ten minutes ago, and they were all impatient. There were a lot of sports cars in the line. Mustangs, Corvettes, Cameroes, oh and a red Miata that Craig was certain had come through the checkpoint three times already.
"Got any friends in the TSA?" asked Dave.
"You can pull over there and wait for your lawyer," said the cop.
Inside the truck, Daisy slapped him. Hard. Then she threw the keys at him.
Outside one of the cops screamed "move already!"
Another cop moved onto the next car. It was a purple road runner, and he was certain that he'd seen it before. Twice. "What are you doing back here?"
"Got lost."
"Get out of here." The cop motioned violently. The Road Runner moved forward an inch. The driver motioned at the moving truck ahead of him and shrugged.
An hour later the line stretched out of sight, the cops were rushing to check three cars at a time, the moving truck was still on the side of the road, and a black Boss 429 pulled up to the front, followed by a pickup with a coffin in the bed.
A cop approached the pickup truck. "Sir I need you to pull over."
"Name's Jason," said the driver. "Jason Web." He spoke with deliberate slowness. "Whats all this about?"
Ahead of them, Craig Capulete approached the 429 and recognized Biff immediately. He pulled his weapon. "Show me your hands!"
Biff raised his hands slowly. It was tough to see; the spotlight of one of the cop cars was pointed in his general direction, but he knew who he was talking to. Craig order him out of the car, or whatever. Biff slowly closed the fingers in his left hand, except for the middle one. Then he floored it.
That got their attention fast. As soon as Jason's officer was distracted, he followed. The cops were running back to their cars but were significanly delayed by a purple road runner that pulled in front of them and seemed to have a lot of trouble getting out of the way again.
Biff and Jason had a decent head start but it wasn't great and an F150 is no match for vehicles designed for pursuit. Biff called Jason on his cell phone.
"I'm a little busy!" said Jason.
"Keep going," said Biff. "I'm gonna to try something. Whatever you do, just keep going." The call ended. Jason watched Biff's black muscle car swerve into the oncoming lane and brake hard, ducking behind him. Then Biff pulled a 180 at 50 miles per hour on a curvy back road, and started driving backwards, flicking his high beams on to blind the cops. The entire chase sort of slowed down at that point, but it was far from over. The cops were probably on the radio by then, giving all of their friends the boys position and heading. It was only a matter of time before the got cut off.
Then they reached the river.
Biff's first idea for this part was a large ramp. He even showed Jason the ramp. Jason stared at Biff, silently, for at least five straight minutes until Biff got the idea and stopped talking about the fucking ramp. Plan B was the trick gate. Jason went through first. Biff--facing forward again--followed, driving his car into a large trash can. The trash can launched into the air and bounced once on the roof. Behind them the gate slammed shut. One of the cop cars attempted to ram it. The gate did move about 5 feet, but by the end of those five feet the car was stopped and the airbags were deployed. The others skidded to a stop behind it.
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
Arthur Capulet looked, and dressed, like a cowboy. All the guy really needed was a ten gallon hat and some spurs. And he had the best white whiskers. He was enjoying a quick nightcap in the living room when there was a loud knock on the door. The room was large and airy. It smelled of whisky, cigar smoke, and old money. The knocking happened again. It was loud, like pounding. Arthur put his cigarette down and looked towards the door. The pounding came again, louder, harder, and longer. It sounded like it was going to rattle the door clear off its hinges.
The chair creaked as Arthur sat up. He traded a drink for his sidearm on the way to the door. When he opened it, a pickup truck squealed out of his driveway. In front of him, in front of his door, was a casket. Arthur clenched his teeth and bent down to open it. Candy wasn't exactly an innocent girl, but she had never wronged the capulets. Arthur got a good look at her face, and then reentered his house. He picked up a phone. It was an old phone; the kind where dialing a number involved turning a plastic circle to the irst digit and waiting for it to turn back before giving it the next digit. Arthur took his time with this.
John answered immediately. "Hi, Dad."
"I would like you to explain why the corpse of a young woman was just dropped off on my doorstep."
"That son-of-a-bitch. My ex-wife-"
"This is not your ex-wife. I want an explanation for this and I want it now. In person."
"Dad I kind of have my hands full..." John started talking a lot. It gave Arthur a headache to listen to that many words through a tiny piece of plastic in his hands.
"John. John. Jonathan! Come here. At once. I expect to see you in twenty minutes." Arthur hung up.
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
Dave and Daisy had little trouble quitting the town once the cops
were distracted. They arrived at the lake with the furniture on time,
but there was no house and no one to meet them there. They waited.
"Something is wrong," said Dave. "Wasn't Biff supposed to meet us here?"
"He'll be here. He's never let anyone down before," said Daisy.
"There's a first time for everything."
"Don't say that." Daisy looked cross.
"He had three cops following him. Biff is good but he's not that good. What if he's in a lockup now? What do we do them?"
"The question you should be asking," said Dasy as she slid
towards Dave on the bench seat, "is what are we going to do to pass the
time?"
"Yeah I guess I should have brought a book or something..."
Daisy put her hand on his leg.
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
"I love it when a plan comes together." That is the line Biff was rehearsing on his way to the lake. He just couldn't quite get the intonation right. Not enough tv as a young child; that was the problem. It was coming together though. And they were almost out of the woods. Then he received a phone call.
"Eric," said Biff.
"Hey little buddy. Heyyyy. The dragon got the drop on me. I got him, but...he got me too. I don't think I can make it to my final battle with John."
"No!" Biff pulled a very loud u-turn in the middle of a busy road and punched the gas.
"I'm bleeding out here Biff. Just listen. I need you to do something for me."
"NO!"
"Biff."
"No! You can't! You're the only one left."
Eric mumbled something, but that was it. The call didn't end but there was no sound coming from the other line. Biff called Eric's name a few times and then just concentrated on getting to the white forest.
When he arrived he found Eric leaning against his bike. There was blood everywhere. Eric didn't respond. Eric didn't have a pulse. Erics eyes were closed. Biff sat down next to him and lit a cigarette. He was supposed to have arrived just in time to hear some final words and watch him that close his eyes, right? He missed his cue. Biff looked at the white forest, at the dead or dying trees, trying to imagine what Eric would have said.
Eric's dead body was clutching a piece of paper. It was a sealed envelop addressed to Sauda. Biff opened it.
"Oh Eric," Biff shook his head, "Oh...oh Eric...so gay." Biff lit the letter on fire and made sure it burned entirely. He took the mirror.
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
Jason and his new friend with the purple road runner, were lounging in the Cathedral when the thugs found them. The Cathedral would have indeed made a sweet "hideout" ...all except for the hiding part. In fact, it was quite conspicuous. The thugs were previously unmentioned Capulets. They set fire to the Cathedral and beat on Jason and his friend until they told them where Sudade was hiding--Eric had drugged her and hitten her in a coffin for safekeeping. The Capulets didn't believe them until they saw the freshly disturbed earth at Candy's gravesite.
The Capulets started digging. As they dug the twilight faded to darnkess. One of the Capulets fell in the hole. Jason stood over with with a shovel, wondering whether he had it in him to attack the man. He wasn't sure.
Then one of the Capulets got a phone call. The conversation was short and involved a lot of "yes sir." Then the Capulets left. All of them.
"I don't think there's a coffin down here," said Jason's new friend. "I think we are past 6 feet."
"Oh yeah, there's no one here. Frankly, I'm disappointed. I bet we could have gone another 5 feet before those numbskulls realized they'd been fooled."
"So...where is this 'Sauda' chick then?"
~ . ~ . ~ . ~
Biff arrived at the lake just in time to watch a small dresser fly out of the back of a moving truck and burst into shrapnel on impact. I mean Dave really launched the thing. Daisy was in the truck too. They were amassing a pile of now-broken furniture behind the truck. Dave also appeared to be in an exceptionally jovial mood.
"No no no," Dave was saying, "don't throw that one, I like that. I could use a coffee table. Biff!"
"How you doin?" said Biff.
"We're almost to the back," said Daisy.
"Well lets haul ass than. She's been back there long enough," said Biff.
With Biff's help they cleared the rest of the furniture until they reached the coffin.
"What is that?" asked Dave.
"Help me move it out of the truck. Cafeful now."
As soon as they started moving it there was a furious banging and a woman's voice screaming "LET ME OUT" over and over again.
Dave's face turned snow white and he stumbled back. Daisy caught him in time to keep him from falling out. Daisy and Biff burst out laughing.
The coffin was opened on the soft ground next to the lake. Sauda popped out, angry as a hellcat. Piles of books and tasty cakes and unused glowsticks fell off of her. "What the fuck were you thinking?"
Biff shrugged. "Eric said he saw this in a play once."
"Shakespeare..." said Sauda.
"Yeah I don't know who that is," said Biff. "Dave, Daisy, meet Soda. Soda, meet-"
"Its Saudade you dumb fuck. Where is Eric? I'm going to kill that little cunt. I really am. I'm going to fucking kill him. Where is he?" asked Sauda.
"Eric didn't make it," said Biff. Sauda, Dave and Daisy all looked at him in shock. Biff held out the mirror.
Sauda appeared to recognize it immediately. She stood up, teetering a bit, and took the mirror. Tears ran down her cheeks.
Somewhere over the water the sun ducked behind the tree line, leaving only the twilight.
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