DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the NWZ series. It is a non-profit project intent for entertainment purposes only. All copyrights on the characters belong to Zorro Productions Inc. except the new originals created by me, i.e Eagle Eye.
Intro
The alcalde's office door slammed with a loud bang behind Luis Ramón as he rushed out in a foul mood. A heat wave of extremely hot air welcomed him on the street, an annoyance that only served to increase his irritation.
"MENDOZAAAAAA!" the alcalde called while tugging at his collar.
The heat reminded Ramón one more time how much he hated that forsaken, roasting hole of a place called el Pueblo de Los Angeles. He walked briskly across the street then, covering the short distance to the tavern as if he feared the blistering hot ground would burn a hole in his soles.
ZZZ
Zorro had been hiding between the rafters in the ceiling for a few minutes, waiting for a chance to sneak into the office undetected. Due to the black Zorro outfit, in this heat he was dripping with sweat. His mask was soaking wet, and little drops trickled down from his chin. The alcalde, busy as he was with his precious papers and malicious scheming, hadn't noticed the tiny puddle already forming close to his desk.
Staying for a while in that confined space, so close to the roasting roof, Zorro felt like a turkey in the oven. What he wouldn't give for a nice cold glass of lemonade. He fervently wished Diego could be wasting the afternoon at the tavern, maybe helping Victoria while feeling ashamed of himself for his last episode of clumsiness; or he could be at home enjoying a well-deserved siesta, away from the blazing sun. Anything rather than being there, boiling under the hot roof.
When the alcalde charged outside Zorro moved in quickly, carefully climbing down from the rafters. Hanging briefly from his hands, he let out a groan before letting himself down on the floor with a soft thud. This time, supporting just his own body weight was too much for his badly injured shoulder.
ZZZ
"Sí, mi alcalde," squeaked a nervous, hesitant voice in the plaza. Sergeant Mendoza had reluctantly left behind a plate of delicious tamales, which lay untouched on the table, and had left the tavern in a rush to meet the angry alcalde outside.
Ramón pointed his furious index finger at the soldier, baring his teeth through a menacing grimace.
"My office. Now!" he shouted, marching back across the street, followed by the bewildered soldier.
Madre de Dios! What does he want now? What did I do? Mendoza thought, lagging behind, blinking under the glaring sun. Oh, no… No! My tamales… They'll get cold!
ZZZ
Zorro dashed around looking for two items, the proof he needed. Frantic, he ruffled the papers on the desk, carelessly dropping some on the floor. When he found the document he was looking for, he turned his attention to the safe box. Luckily for him, the thick iron safe was already open with the door ajar, as Ramón had not bothered to close it when he walked out in a hurry. The safe contained a small chest. Zorro searched the room for the silver key to open it, but before he could find it he heard stomping footsteps approaching, so he gave up the search. Quickly, without much thinking, he grabbed the small chest and ran to hide beside the door. The wooden and silver chest, heavily decorated and expensive looking, was heavy enough on his left hand to send painful signals to his shoulder. Determined, he held on to it as best he could, because he needed the right hand free to fight.
"Zorro! He was here!" the alcalde cried, stopping in his tracks when he saw the mess of papers on the floor. How can that snake break into my office in such short space of time? I've been out just for a minute, for goodness' sake!
Before the alcalde could start searching for the black masked ghost, Zorro kicked him hard on his rear end, and sent him flying across the room. Ramón landed on his chest among the stranded papers, sliding over them. Annoyed and frustrated, he growled like a wild animal, pawing at a sheet of paper that was covering his face. Meanwhile, Zorro slammed the door shut, hitting Mendoza's face when he was about to step into the office just a few seconds behind the alcalde. With the blow, the sergeant bounced back to the street, where he landed on his butt.
"Lancers! Vengan, rápido! Zorro is here!" the sergeant said. Dazed, he carefully felt his painful, bleeding nose with his right hand. With a broken nose, he figured he was seriously injured this time. What a fantastic excuse to remain on the ground! Shame the soil is so hot my rear end will get fried like a crispy tortilla, he thought.That food analogy reminded him of his tamales and, in his misery, he moaned even louder.
ZZZ
While Zorro latched the door, the alcalde crawled on his knees to his desk and rummaged through the upper drawer, looking for his pistol.
I've got you now, he thought while turning to face Zorro with a broad grin, only to feel a stinging whiplash which took away the pistol from his hand. He looked at his bruised wrist, disbelieving, upset because once again he had missed a good chance to trap his nemesis. Hesitating for a second, he decided to get his sword.
"Alcalde, I really don't have the time for this today," Zorro shouted, advancing when he saw Ramón reaching for his sword. Zorro punched the alcalde's jaw quite hard, knocking him half-conscious on the desk. Right then, the first soldiers arrived from the plaza, banging on the front door. It would not take long before some others would try the back door, which was unlocked. Zorro jumped on the desk beside the alcalde, kicked him down to the floor, and quickly wrapped the whip around the small chest. With a great effort, he pulled himself up onto the rafters to exit through the ceiling. Any other day he could have hoisted the chest in a second, pulling from the whip, but today it felt as if it weighted a ton. He lifted himself and the chest up onto the hot roof just in time, when the soldiers came charging through the back door.
Regaining consciousness, Ramón roared: "Get him!"
The alcalde staggered toward the front door while palpating the left side of his face, cursing Zorro and his smashing right hook. He unlocked the door and waddled out, tripping on the unfortunate Mendoza, and they tumbled to the ground in a tangled mess of arms and legs.
"Get out of my way, you dimwit!" the alcalde shouted, waving and kicking to set himself free. He accidentally hit Mendoza's nose and the soldier yelled in pain, only to receive a snappy: "Mendoza! Don't be such a baby! Mooooooove!"
ZZZ
Zorro ran over the scorching roof tiles whistling for Toronado. The horse came at once, willing to take his master home so they could rest in the comfort of the dark cave, away from the sun. Toronado ran parallel to the houses so Zorro could jump onto the saddle without stopping, and they headed to the pueblo's entrance. However, before they could get so far, the soldiers blocked their way, pointing their muskets at them. Annoyed at their unusual efficiency in that torrid roasting day, Zorro pulled from the reins in his right hand and turned his stallion back to the plaza. The lancers fired their muskets then, but they missed the fast moving target as they had done so many times before.
"Give me that!" Ramón said, back on his feet, grabbing a musket from the nearest soldier. When he aimed at Zorro, he recalled the advice he'd been given: "Shoot the horse. It's a much bigger target." So, he carefully aimed at Toronado's chest instead of his rider's. He fired the musket and to his surprise, as this had never happened before, the horse bolted and fell to the ground neighing in pain. As a result, Zorro was thrown off the saddle.
Another loud scream pierced the air right after that, coming from the tavern door. It was Victoria, horrified to see her masked hero shot down to the ground.
Zorro found himself on his back, empty handed. The wooden chest lay out of reach and the soldiers were closing in from every direction. With his left shoulder suffering at the slightest movement now after hitting the ground so badly, Zorro reached for his sword, wondering how he had managed to get into this predicament at all, and how to get out of it.
ZZZZZ