NOTE BY THE ACCOUNT HOLDER: THIS STORY IS NOT MINE!

WRITTEN BY KARLA GREGORY

Chapter Nine

Diego could do nothing to help himself. He slipped in and out of consciousness for hours. As the first light of dawn came, he was awake enough to realize that if he was to escape, he had to try today. Another night like the last one and he would be far too weak to attempt anything.

As he sat up, he had to put both his hands on the sides of his head to keep the pain from knocking him unconscious again. He knew that another blow to the head would leave him too dizzy to be able to function. Taking the water jug that had been left from the night before, he drank greedily, again just leaving enough water to tend to his wounds.

He felt so bad that he was tempted to skip it, but he knew that he would be the better for it, so he made himself go on and clean each wound. First, though, he took off the hated manacles. As he worked, he doubted there was much of his hide that had not been punctured. He worked around the bandage on his left arm not wanting to disturb it in case the deep puncture wound should start to bleed again. He didn't wonder that it was bandaged. He could imagine Monastario seeing that it was done. He would not want Diego to expire merely from loss of blood.

Finally done, he mustered all of his strength and stood up. He fell against the wall, hanging onto the chains of his manacles for support with his head resting on the cool stones of the wall. Slowly he took a few steps and then a few more, holding onto the wall. Then gradually as he regained his equilibrium, he moved across the cell to the door. Holding onto the bars of the window for support, once again he reviewed his options of a hiding place in the floor beams above the stairs.

As soon as he was satisfied, he decided to get moving. The bone deep aches and pains were such old friends now that he was able to force them into the recesses of his mind. He walked around the cell several times, flexing his arms and legs, ignoring the fresh blood that appeared as he reopened some of the cuts. He found he was still dizzy anytime he moved his head very fast, but if he shut his eyes it helped somewhat.

Eventually he gained some ground over his dizziness, but found a new worry. His left arm was very apt to give way with him since Monastario had pierced it last night. It was bound enough to have stopped the bleeding, but he felt that if the binding was tighter, it would give his arm more support. So he spent the next few minutes doing that. He looked back at the water jug wishing it held just another mouthful of water. He was still very warm and thirsty.

Putting the thought away, Diego began again to walk and move to gain more freedom of movement. He focused on one thing. He was going to escape or die trying. No longer would he submit to Monastario's sword or Escobar's taunts and jeers.

Shaking himself to awareness, he realized that he had heard the door at the top of the stairs open and that the guard would be coming down. Quickly, Diego sat down on his bed and put the manacles back on (for the last time!), but he did not lock them. He fell into a slump. The guard noisily opened the cell door and came in leaving it open. Seeing that Diego did not move, he kicked his foot. Slowly Diego opened his eyes and feigned being fuzzy-headed which did not require much acting.

The guard set the meal down along with a cup of water and at the same time picked up the water jug that Diego had emptied and proceeded to leave the cell to fill it. As the guard reached the door, Diego had already freed himself and had grabbed the rock he had used for a hammer. He hit the guard on the back of the head as hard as he could. Grunting, the guard fell down in the doorway sending the jug to smash against the stone floor. Diego froze, thinking that someone might have heard so loud a noise, but apparently not since no one came to investigate.

Quickly he searched the guard and found the keys to both of the doors. He also relieved the man of his knife, pistol and saber. Back in the cell, he hastily drank the cup of water and stuffed the food inside what was left of his shirt. Then going up the stairs, he made sure the door at the top was ajar to give the impression that he had fled. He went downstairs again and attempted to climb up into the floor beams using the torch holder beside the cell door.

His left arm was proving to be a significant problem. He struggled to pull himself up. Then with his feet on the holder and his hands on the beams, he was suddenly hit with such a wave of dizziness that he only remained upright through a miracle. Hearing voices in the hall above; however, lent him the impetus he needed to pull himself up and into the shadows where he tried to still his heavy breathing.

Monastario could be heard asking, "Who is the fool who left this door open?" as he angrily descended down the stairs. The sight that greeted him sent him into a panic. The guard was lying unconscious in the open doorway of the cell. Quickly, he peered in. Yes indeed, de la Vega was gone, but how? Where? Drawing his sword in fear, Monastario began backing up the stairs looking as if he feared imminent attack.

At this, Diego allowed himself a grim smile from his vantage point above. "Yes, Capitán Monastario," he thought "you do well to be afraid."

Monastario gained the top of the stairs and began to cry out for the guards to search the house for the prisoner. Diego decided to find a more comfortable place in the floor beams to pass the time. He would make his escape after dark and he had a long time to wait. He ate what had been brought to him for his breakfast slowly throughout the day, but what he wouldn't give for some water!

Eventually someone remembered the unconscious guard and came to remove him. Diego was glad to see that he was not hurt too badly. Even though Monastario had treated him horribly, the guard had done his job and no more.

The day gradually wore on and finally it got dark outside. Diego had alternately suffered by being very hot followed by having chills. He threw it off by force of will and got down from his perch. He was so stiff, he thought he wouldn't be able to stand up, but after he forced himself to climb the stairs he began to loosen up a little.

Slowly he turned the lock in the door, stopping at each little click the mechanism made. He opened the door a crack and peered out with one eye. All seemed to be in darkness. His years as Zorro had sharpened his night vision so he was able to see perfectly. Too perfectly. As he looked at the battered remains of his shirt he realized that even though it was dirty and covered with dried blood, it was still a white shirt.

Going down the stairs again, he took the shirt off and rubbed the ashes from the dead torch over it until it was black. He also rubbed the ashes and pitch on his face and hands. How much better it was back in California, when he had clean, black clothes to put on whenever he needed to be moving around in the dark, he thought. Bernardo's face flashed before his eyes, but he put it away under the necessity of the moment.

Back at the top of the stairs, Diego slipped out into the great hallway closing the door behind him. To his left down the hall he could see light spilling out of a doorway flanked by two guards. Fortunately the rest of the hallway was in darkness. He could clearly hear Escobar whining and worrying Monastario about what they were going to do now that Zorro had escaped. Monastario told him to be quiet.

For a full minute Diego paused and almost gave in to the urge to stride down the hall and have it out with Monastario now that he held a real sword in his hands. But logic gained the upper hand. He knew he was too weak and dizzy yet to have any hope of success. But later . . . . Diego's grim smile turned feral.

"Until later," he whispered. "We will meet again, Señor, and when we do, it will be the end for one of us."

Turning back to the right, he began tracing his way out of the house. He had to duck into corners or behind furniture several times before he reached the front of the house as guards or servants passed by. Seeing there was a guard posted at the front door, Diego turned into a side room which he took to be a salon. Here he found a window which he pried open. Unfortunately, there was a ten or twelve foot drop into some sort of stone courtyard. There would be very little cover for him.

With a little sigh of resignation, Diego slipped out the window and hung by his fingertips while trying to judge the drop. Just then, a light came into the room.

He could hear Monastario's voice say quite clearly, "What is that window doing open?" as he came over to it.

Diego had to let go no matter what might be below. As he landed the saber he was wearing rattled against the stone of the courtyard. Quickly he ducked back against the house and made himself as flat as he could.

Monastario's face appeared above him as he looked out trying to pierce the darkness. "What was the sound I heard? Guards! Someone is in the courtyard and I want him captured! Come with me at once!"

Diego laughed to himself, even as he was in great danger. This was just like old times! But then, these guards were not like the guards in California. They were harder and more disciplined. He had better get out of the courtyard fast. He could hear the running footsteps of the men coming out of the house.

Moving to the courtyard wall, he leaped up and grabbed the top expecting to pull himself up and over, but he had forgotten about his weakened left arm and fell back into the courtyard. Looking for a place to hide, he could see nothing except the shadows in one corner produced by a large tree just outside the wall.

Grabbing a patio chair of black wrought iron, he brought it with him into the corner and crouched down behind it. Some small pebbles rolled around under his feet. Picking them up, he waited to see what Monastario and his soldiers would do. Thankfully, none of them had had time to pick up a lantern.

Suddenly he had an inspiration. If he just had the strength to make an accurate throw . . .

Taking one of the pebbles he had picked up, he threw it with all of his strength at the window he had just come through. As he had hoped, the rock sailed into the open window and hit, who knew what, making a great deal of noise.

Immediately Monastario jumped to the conclusion Diego had hoped for. "Quickly, back into the house! He must still be in there!" Monastario cried. He motioned the guards to go ahead of him as they were closer to the courtyard entrance.

Diego, seeing their backs turned, chose that moment to climb on the chair and get up on the wall. Again the accursed sword gave him away with the softest of clangs as he gained the top of the wall. It was just enough to reach Monastario's ears. He turned and looked and saw a dark form there on top of the wall.

The Zorro in Diego could not resist. He saluted Monastario in the familiar way saying, "Adios, Monastario. I can no longer accept your hospitality. But let me warn you. When next we meet, only one of us will live to tell about it. Watch yourself always, for you will never know if I am going to be there in the shadows waiting for you." With that he dropped over the other side of the wall.

Monastario stood there stunned. His quarry had been in the house all along! Shouting for his guards, he ran to the chair and leaping up, hung his upper body on the wall so that he could see into the street. De la Vega was no where to be seen. There were enough street lamps to show the truth of it.

The guards clattered back into the courtyard to find their leader hanging on the wall. Monastario looked back over his shoulder and seeing them, dropped to the floor of the courtyard again. He saw some of the guards trying to smother smiles. If it were the last thing he ever did in this world, Diego de la Vega would die for once again humiliating him in front of his men!

"Lopez! Garza! Wipe those smiles off of your face. The rest of you come to attention! You will not rest this night until you have searched everywhere for the prisoner! Do you hear me? You will break up into two groups and search everywhere. Lopez, you take one and Garza the other. Do not come back to me without him," he paused, "Dead or alive. Now go!"

Seeing the murderous look in Monastario's eyes, they fled the courtyard.

When they had left, Monastario found Escobar standing there looking at him. He seemed to be stone, cold sober. "He will kill us, you know," he said. "In California, he opposed us because of what we did against his people and against the law. He would never have killed us in cold blood then. As evidence, we were left alive to return to Spain. As long as we left California alone, he would do nothing else against us. But now, having brought him here; wounding him physically, humiliating him, and making him desperate, he will not leave until we are both dead. For how could he trust we would not do the same or worse another time? Oh, we two have been too clever by far and have brought our own executioner to us."

Turning, Escobar walked into the house leaving Monastario with his mouth open to protest. But he realized Escobar was right. If he did not find de la Vega first… he would not complete the thought. He turned and ran out of the courtyard and into the street to begin his own earnest search.