The following afternoon
"Where is Grasshopper? He should be back by now," asked Diego. Felipe shrugged his shoulders. "Have a look in the house and outside. I'll come out at the back and look around the fields. Maybe it was him shaking the bushes before."
Diego got out of the cave through the passage hidden door. Immediately, he realized something was wrong. He could see two sets of prints on the ground, one with small feet, and signs of struggling. The most worrying sign was the precious collar of the Indian boy, which he found broken and discarded on the ground. Diego examined the prints, and concluded someone had forcibly taken the boy for a ride in a horse. He clenched his right fist in anger, and came back to the cave to change into Zorro's cloths, even if he didn't feel well enough for it. And Toronado would struggle too with his injuries, but there was no other way. Zorro had to ride.
ZZZ
Victoria was on her way to the Hacienda de la Vega. Don Alejandro had been at the pueblo earlier on, and had told her about Diego not feeling very well. It was quiet at the tavern, so she had got on her horse to visit him and cheer him up with a lemon tart. Her broken hand was still quite painful, but she could manage to ride her gentle horse quite well with the reins in one hand only. It was a beautiful sunny summer morning, although quite hot already, and she thought she could do with some exercise as well.
ZZZ
Zorro followed the trail of fresh hoof prints left by the kidnapper. He wasn't completely surprised when he realized they led to the Hacienda Lozano. Rather than heading straight there, he made Toronado climb to the top of a nearby hill to look at the property from above. The black stallion was limping, with his lacerated pectoral muscles resented every stride. The wounds were bleeding again, but he marched forward uphill, bravely ignoring the pain. From the top, Zorro spotted two riders on the plain, far away in the distance, heading to the pueblo. He squinted, using his hand above his eyes to deflect the sun glare. He wasn't sure, but one of the riders could be carrying something in front of him. Maybe his little Indian friend; maybe not. But he was quite sure one of the riders was Don Alfonso, due to his unmistakable round, large shape.
"I am sorry boy, but we need to run quite fast if we want to get them before they reach the pueblo," said Zorro, patting the horse's neck. "Can you do that?" The black stallion neighed and shook his head up and down like saying "yes", determined. "Come on then. Go get them, boy!" Toronado neighed loudly again, and started a frantic run, galloping downhill as fast as he could.
ZZZ
Oliver looked at his companion, annoyed. Don Alfonso was puffing and grunting, complaining on the effort of a sustained gallop. After a while, with laboured breathing, he slowed down his horse to a gentle canter, and then a slow trot. Oliver slowed down his horse as well, until the red-faced don caught up with him.
"What are you doing? I thought you wanted to get to the pueblo as soon as possible."
"Well, nobody is chasing us. And I don't think Zorro would even realize that he needs to chase us, probably not yet," he said, out of breath. "I am tired, and my horse is tired. Half an hour more to get there won't make a great difference."
"Maybe to you. I am holding the boy, here, and he may wake up at any time," complained Oliver. "Hurry up, will you?" But the overweight don ignored him, and continued his way to the pueblo at a leisurely pace.
They carried on marching slowly for a while, until Oliver had the odd feeling of hearing hooves behind them. He turned around to see a black horse with a black clad rider approaching fast.
"Mierda! That's Zorro behind us! I told you to hurry up!" shouted Oliver, urging his horse to a fast gallop. Don Alfonso followed him, cursing too, hardly able to stay on the saddle at that speed.
Sitting in front of his kidnapper's saddle, Grasshopper had regained consciousness, but Oliver hadn't noticed it. He was holding the boy by his waist with his right hand, while he held both reins on the left. Otherwise, the boy wasn't restrained, and his hands were free. He looked back over his kidnapper's arm, and saw Zorro approaching quite fast, but not enough to catch up with them. Then, taking Oliver by surprise, the boy suddenly grabbed both reins and pulled back with all his strength. The horse neighed loudly in pain, complaining, and he lifted his head back to avoid such sharp pain and pressure in his mouth. As a result, the horse lost his balance and fell to the ground. The two riders also fell, flying into the bushes at the side of the road, rolling over them.
The boy stood up first, covered in superficial scratches but otherwise unharmed, and ran away to hide on the nearby wood close to the road. Oliver took a bit longer to recover from the fall. Ignoring the kid, he ran to the horse to get his favourite weapons from the saddle: his Indian bow, and the arrow case, which he hanged on his back. The horse had damaged one of his front legs badly, probably fracturing it, and was useless for riding.
When Zorro was close enough, he slowed down Toronado and jumped off the saddle before he had stopped completely.
"Go find the boy!" he said, slapping his rear end. The horse limped away towards the wood, snorting and foaming all over the bit after the strenuous effort, glad it was over.
ZZZ
Don Alfonso was a coward. He had always been one, the same as he had always been fat. That was one of the reasons by his own father didn't like him much. When Don Alfonso was twenty-five, his father came back from a long journey to the North, and brought back with him Oliver, whom he legally adopted shortly after. Don Alfonso equally hated and feared Oliver, his new brother, who was a complex, dangerous young man, although immensely loyal to his adoptive father. He had told his father about a place in the mountains in California where gold could be found easily, and he invested a large amount of time trying to find it. When Oliver finally found the gold, his father died of pneumonia, and he never got to see it.
The horse was running as fast as he could away from Zorro, to reach the security of the pueblo. Don Alfonso didn't think much about leaving Oliver behind, secretly hoping he would be killed. His heart was racing with all the fear and the intense exercise, and it suddenly gave up when its clogged cardiac arteries shut down. Don Alfonso felt an intense pain in his chest and became out of breath. He fell off the horse, suffering a heart attack at the side of the road.
ZZZ
On her way to the Hacienda de la Vega, Victoria saw a rider coming fast from the opposite direction. She recognized him easily: it was the unmistakable large shape of Don Alfonso. She wondered why he could be in such a hurry, punishing his poor horse like that. When she saw him falling off the horse, she urged her own ride to a faster gallop to reach him.
"Don Alfonso, are you alright?" she asked, kneeling by his side. He certainly didn't look right. His face was extremely pale, with cyanotic purple lips, and he was completely out of breath, gasping for air.
"Zo…rro…" he managed to whisper.
"Zorro? What about Zorro?" Don Alfonso could not speak, no matter how frantically Victoria would shake him. "What about Zorro? What happened?"
When he passed away to never wake up again, she mounted back on her horse and galloped fast in the direction the rider had come from, anxious about her lover.
ZZZ
Oliver looked at the black clad figure in front of him. Fast as lighting, he reached for an arrow in the case at his back and quickly pointed to the masked man's chest, shooting it at great speed. Zorro –also unbelievably fast– had drawn his sword at the same time, and effortlessly deflected the arrow to his left while smiling smugly. Oliver reached for another arrow, and then another, and another… He continued shooting non-stop until his case was empty. The result was always the same: Zorro deflected all the arrows with ease, and none reached its target, no matter which body part it was aimed at. Open mouthed, Oliver could not believe it, and he stayed rooted to the spot while Zorro advanced with his sword up and ready, menacingly.
"Why are you doing this? Why are you involved in this dirty business?" asked Zorro.
"What do you care?" was Oliver's reply, tensing his neck to move his head a couple of inches away from the sword pointing at it.
"I do care about anything that threatens innocent people. How do you know how to use a bow, and where did you learn to make these arrows? They are different to the ones the native Indians use in California. I guess they are from the North."
"Yes, they are. I learned with the Cheyenne Indians. It's a long story."
Zorro smiled widely and despite the pain opened his left arm with flair, while pressing the tip of his sword on the stranger's chest. "I love stories! And we have plenty of time. Nobody will bother us."
ZZZ
From the distance, Victoria saw Zorro standing in front of Oliver, who was shooting arrows at great speed at him. Thankfully, her beloved was so skilful with the sword he deflected them all away. She still had a large distance to cover, but she slowed down a bit when she saw Zorro holding his enemy at sword point. She didn't want to get on the way and risk jeopardizing whatever Zorro was up to with her presence. She would not interfere as long as he was winning.
ZZZ
Oliver hesitated for a moment. But finally, he shouted: "I hate Indians! They killed my parents and then kidnapped me when I was a baby. I was raised as a Cheyenne warrior, until I discovered the truth. Nothing gives me more pleasure than helping to track Indians, and kill them if I can!"
"Who told you that? It doesn't make sense that they kept you alive and taught you like one of their own."
"Don Alfonso's father told me. He rescued me when I was seventeen, and made me realize how different I was from them. He became a father figure to me."
"Still doesn't make sense."
"I know it is true. What I never got to know is why the Indians kept me alive. I think they were short of frontline warriors. They trained me well for that role."
"How did you know there is gold in San Bernardino?" pressed Zorro.
"There was some gossip in the Indian community, a legend about a place in the South where you could find gold by the river quite easily. But, it was sacred and not to be touched."
"Exactly. And that's what is going to happen. It won't be touched. It belongs to them." Oliver laughed.
"You can't stop it. It will happen. Too many people know about the gold already."
"How many people?" Oliver didn't answer, so Zorro pressed a bit with his sword in his chest. "How many?"
"Enough. I don't know exactly how many. It doesn't matter. All the Indians will die soon, and we'll get the gold. I hate them. I wish them all death."
"You are a sick man." Zorro lowered his weapon slowly, pitying the deeply disturbed man in front of him.
Oliver walked a couple of steps back, away from Zorro. "And you are stupid," he said, quickly drawing a loaded gun from behind his back. "Don't move… Diego de la Vega."
ZZZ
Victoria panicked when she saw Zorro in danger. She urged her horse to a fast gallop again, heading straight to the trouble. She had taken a bullet for Zorro before, and she could do it again if it was necessary.
ZZZ
Before Zorro could react to the menace, shocked by Oliver's words as he was, an arrow came whizzing by. It passed by Zorro nearly scratching his right arm, and got lodged into Oliver's chest, right in his heart. He fell backwards, firing the gun when he clenched his fists in a reflex. The bullet, missing Zorro's head by an inch, hit Zorro's hat, which flew away to fall rolling on the ground behind him. Oliver died instantly.
"Had to be done. No other way," said Eagle Eye, coming out of the bushes behind Zorro, with a bow in his right hand. He approached Oliver's dead body to remove the arrow off his chest while Zorro looked at him with his jaw dropped. Eagle Eye turned to face him with the arrow in his hand, which was dripping fresh blood from its sharp end to the ground. The Indian didn't show any kind of emotional remorse or joy of revenge for his actions; his eyes were cool as ice. "Had to protect our land. And you. Better this way. He deserved to die." Diego nodded slowly, wondering how much easier his own life would be if he could manage to be as practical about killing as the Indian was.
"How did you find us? Is your son alright?" The Indian nodded, with a serious expression.
"Had dream last night. Crow told me come home this way today, not shorter way."
"What?"
"I knew had to be here today." Zorro looked at him, puzzled. But he didn't have time to think about it because Victoria arrived at the scene. Zorro was so busy fighting for his life, that he hadn't even seen her approaching on her horse.
"Zorro! Are you alright? I saw that man shooting at you! I was so worried," she said, jumping of her horse to run into his arms.
"Victoria! What are you doing here?"
"I was on my way to visit Diego. He is not very well. Are you sure you are alright?" she asked again, still shaken. Zorro was delighted to know she was worried about him and was making the effort to come for a visit, even if Diego was the one who had broken her hand.
"Yes, don't worry. Everything is fine" he said, hugging Victoria tightly, caressing her back. But the cuddling moment didn't last too long, when Zorro realized Don Alfonso had escaped, and probably also knew his identity. He gently pushed Victoria away. "I am sorry, Victoria, I have to go. Have to get to Don Alfonso before he reaches Los Angeles."
"Don Alfonso? You can't. He is dead," said Victoria.
"Dead? Are you sure?"
"Yes. I saw him falling from his horse. I think he had a heart attack. He was purple, and couldn't breathe." Zorro felt so relieved at her words that he had to kiss her, impulsively.
"You look happy that he is dead," she said, frowning.
"Yes. No. Not really. Almost," he mumbled. Victoria looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
"You don't make any sense."
"It's a long story. Oliver and Don Alfonso kidnapped Eagle Eye's son; I don't know with what purpose. They are the ones responsible for the fire at the Indian land. Oliver is the one who shot m…. Diego." At that moment, he wished he could kick himself. But Victoria didn't notice the lapse.
"He shot Diego? With the arrow? Why?"
"I don't know. And we will never know, as both are dead now. I think you should continue your way, Victoria. Give my regards to Diego. Eagle Eye can escort you to the Hacienda de la Vega, so you can have a smooth journey." The Indian nodded, with a hint of a smile. He knew what he had to do: to stall Victoria so Zorro could go back home before she did. They could take the "scenic" route.
Zorro whistle loudly. Toronado came out of the woods with a little delighted rider on the saddle. When they got close to the group, Grasshopper leaned out to hug his father, and jumped down of the horse, hanging from eagle Eye's neck.
"There. I think this is yours" said Zorro, handing over the collar to the boy. He grabbed it anxiously and started to sob in his father's arms, releasing all the accumulated fear and tension he had suffered. Eagle Eye talked to him gently in his native language, hugging him tightly, and the boy smiled back again, looking at the collar with his head resting on his father's shoulder.
ZZZ
Victoria sat in one of the armchairs at the library, telling Diego all about Zorro's adventures. Diego was so exhausted with all the action that morning, that he didn't have any trouble to pretend he was still sick. He welcomed the chance to rest in the other armchair, close to her. He was listening to her, but filtering her voice because all that chatter about Zorro was getting on his nerves. In his head, he managed to quiet down her real voice until the only thing he could hear coming from her lips was a fainted: "I love you… Diego." But the spell was broken with her next set of annoying and deeply hurting words.
"That horrible man could have hit Zorro with one of his arrows as well. Can you imagine? Zorro would not have been able to save the day if he was injured like you are." Diego looked down at his own hands in frustration, fighting the urge to clench them in a tight fist, and he nearly screamed. He managed to control himself and sighed deeply instead, before he spoke slowly, dragging his words to a whisper.
"No, he wouldn't." He took the parcel off Victoria's hands, willing to change the subject. "What have you got there? Is it for me?" he asked, unwrapping it. "Lemon tart! My favourite. Thanks, Victoria."
He tried to relax and enjoy the moment, but his work wasn't done yet. Zorro would have to ride one more time that night. "Yes, Victoria. Diego is injured, but still going. How you like me now!?"
ZZZ
*** Author's notes ***
Sorry for the totally out of place and historical context "How you like me now!?" but I couldn't help it. I even hear the song in my head every time I read these words. I hope you are all laughing with me. If I was Diego, I could smash the lemon tart on her face. :D (Of course, feel free to complain about this, it you must. More reviews! Yay!)