Chapter 50 – A pueblo without justice

Before dawn, Ramón got up to launch the promised search party, waking Mendoza and the rest of the soldiers up, calling them to the patio. He couldn't sleep much that night while thinking of ways to make the best of the situation to catch Zorro, so in the end, fed up of twisting and turning in bed, he got up ahead of schedule to have everything ready when the first rays of light hit the horizon. He had a plan to lure Zorro, involving him in a wild goose chase, and he got fuming when he found out the masked bandit had already found Esteban and the three kidnappers were locked in his jail, all without his knowledge.

"Mendozaaaaa! What happened here last night? Why I wasn't told?"

"I don't know what happened, mi alcalde," the sergeant said, yawning, still half asleep and only half dressed, with the top buttons of his jacket and shirt undone, and his greasy hair uncombed. "I wasn't on duty last night. Corporal Sepúlveda was."

"Corporal, tell me what happened!"

"Zorro brought three men to be kept in custody. He said they kidnapped Don Esteban de la Vega and Victoria Escalante."

"And why you didn't tell me about it?"

"It was late. You were asleep, Alcalde, and it wasn't really necessary to wa—."

"Release those prisoners immediately!" Ramón interrupted, going ballistic. Not only he could fail trapping Zorro now after a long night of planning; if those men were in jail it meant they had not finished Esteban off. And that annoyed the hell out of him, after all those expectations.

"Are you sure? They abducted Don Esteban, and they—."

"And who said that?!" Ramón interrupted again. "I'll tell you who: the most wanted criminal in the territory! Who is obviously lying. As I said, release the prisoners immediately! They are respectable citizens from Spain, at the service of the Duke of Cádiz, not criminals like Zorro!"

"Sí, Alcalde. Ahora mismo," Sepúlveda said, heading for the jail, happy to get out of the way of Ramón's fury.

By releasing them, Ramón hoped he could still catch Zorro when he showed up to put things right. But he wasn't expecting it would be so soon.

ZZZ

Zorro could see a flurry of activity at the garrison just before dawn.

Alcalde, what are you up to? he thought from his advantage point at the tavern, when he saw all the soldiers getting out to the patio. He couldn't hear them, so he left the window to get closer to the action. Esteban was still asleep, and Zorro pondered what to do. He looked at Victoria's gun and sword at the corner of the room, and shook his head: his cousin was in no condition to play hero that night. Not only he could still have a seizure at any moment, which was always a liability; now he didn't have the strength to handle that sword. Which was a shame, because for once, he could do with some backup.

He made up his mind quickly, leaving Esteban behind, and got out of the room, closing the door silently.

ZZZ

"You are free to go," Corporal Sepúlveda said, opening the cell's door.

"What do you mean we are free to go? Is this a trap, or a joke, or what?" Carlos Berlanga said.

"No. The alcalde's orders. He said Zorro is lying and you should be released immediately."

"All right! That's terrific. Where are our weapons?" Carlos said, stepping out of the cell.

"You didn't have any weapons when Zorro brought you in. But we kept your horses at the stables."

"That's true," Matías said. "Zorro stripped us of all our weapons, and we left them behind in that cellar. They should still be there."

"We can't go out without any weapons. That dangerous masked bandit could be out there waiting for us. We need guns and swords," Carlos said.

"I can't authorize that. I have to ask the alcalde. Why don't you get out of here through that back door and wait outside? Zorro won't be around now. I'll bring the horses there, and some weapons if the alcalde agrees to that."

"All right. Hurry up."

ZZZ

Zorro was furious when he saw the three men walking out of the jail's back door, just as Esteban had predicted. What was the point of following formal procedures to bring criminals to justice if that devious alcalde could break all the rules and do as he pleased? Maybe his impulsive cousin was right, insisting on taking justice in his own hands by killing those dangerous men rather than taking them to jail, because to Esteban, that was a pointless act, a total waste of time.

Zorro shook his head, desperate. In a rotten system, there was no real Justice. And, until that rotten apple called Luis Ramón left office, there was no hope for Justice in Los Angeles. Not at all, despite all his efforts and all the sacrifices he had made during the last few years.

Hiding on top of the jail's roof, he wondered what he should do. He was only a man, and he could not take on the whole garrison on his own. But at least he could confront those men for the second time, and if necessary neutralize them before they could damage any members of his family again. Esteban would agree with that.

He stood up then and jumped off the roof, landing close to that back door.

"Where do you think you are going?" he said, unsheathing his sword. The men moved back a bit, but the door was closed, and they could not get back in.

"We are walking free to continue our mission, and you are not going to stop us," Carlos said, too cocky for an empty-handed man facing a sword.

"Of course I am. Where is your sword to say otherwise?"

At that moment, Corporal Sepúlveda stepped out of the back door carrying a few weapons. When he saw Zorro, he dropped the swords and the guns and ran back into the garrison's jail, closing the door again, leaving those men to deal with the black ghost on their own.

"Don't you even think about it…" Zorro warned, but the three men looked at each other, and at once reached for the weapons that lay on the ground behind them.

Zorro lounged forward, trying to stop the closest man, Matías, who was the first one to grab a gun and turn towards Zorro with it, but the masked bandit was faster and ran that man's chest through with his sword before he could fire, with so much force the tip of the sword sank in the wooden door behind him, getting stuck.

While Zorro struggled to withdraw the sword, Carlos attacked him with a military sabre. He was about to slice his back open when a blast echoed in the plaza. While still pulling from the sword, weighed down by Matías body, Zorro turned to see Carlos dropping to the ground. Esteban stood behind him, with a smoking gun in his hand.

"I told you this would happen, didn't I?" Esteban said.

Sword in hand, the bewildered third man moved away from the back door, trying to escape. Esteban tossed Victoria's empty gun and attacked him with her brother's sword, moving as fast as his broken ribs allowed him. Using one of Zorro's moves, it took him only a few seconds to disarm Alberto, and when Esteban placed the tip of the sword at his throat, he immediately lifted his hands up, surrendering. In the meantime, Zorro finally managed to retrieve his blood-stained sword by pushing with his left foot on Matías abdomen, leaving his lifeless body free to slide down to the ground in slow motion. He then cleaned the blood on his victim's clothes and approached his cousin, sheathing the sword.

"Please, don't kill me!" Alberto cried. "I am so sick and tired of everything going on in that house, I swear! I had enough a long time ago, but I feared for my life if I walked away. I want nothing to do with them. They are monsters."

"Are you talking about the Duke of Cádiz?"

"Yes, and all his friends."

"Do you know my mother, Elena de la Vega?"

"Yes, I do. She is a saint, that woman. The most decent person I have ever known."

"Did something happen to her? Don't lie!" Esteban cried, pressing harder with the sword.

"She is fine, I swear. She is well connected, and took protection from the Condesa de Ávila. The duke never touched her. He can't."

"That's what I thought," Esteban said, lowering his sword then.

"Thank you," Alberto said then, sighing, relaxing his body for a moment.

"But, how can I trust you, really?" Esteban said, lifting the sword again after that moment of weakness, making Alberto stiff again, tensing his body against the wall.

"I won't tell anyone! I'll disappear. I don't want to go back to Madrid."

"Are you willing to stay in America and never return to Madrid? Never restore contact with the Duke or his friends?"

"Yes, please, don't kill me. Let me go, por favor."

Just as Esteban lowered his sword again, Zorro jumped to push him out of the way. The alcalde was at the door, aiming his gun at him, and when the blast coming out of that pistol lit the darkness of the night for a split second, the two cousins hit the ground. Alberto cried when the bullet hit his chest, right in the middle, and he dropped to the ground too, dying shortly after.

"Come on, get up. Let's get out of here!" Zorro said, standing up quickly. While he helped Esteban up, he felt a sharp pain in his back, but he ignored it and carry on as if nothing had happened, because it would be better that not Esteban, nor the alcalde knew he had been hit.

"Oh, shit. Damn it!" Esteban said, resting his back against the wall with his hand at his side. "Hold on."

"What's wrong?" Zorro said, fearing he had injured his ribs even more by forcing him to crash-land like that.

"Sorry. I think I am about to have another fit," he apologized while panting in pain. "Go, please. Don't worry, the alcalde has nothing on me this time. I'll be all right. Go."

"Lancers! Zorro is here! Kill him!" the alcalde cried then, cross because he didn't hit Zorro with any of his weapons, and he was too much of a coward to use the sword against him without backup.

"Go!" Esteban said, starting to twitch, with that particular empty stare appearing in his eyes.

Mierda, Zorro thought, letting go of his cousin, who sat down, sliding his body down the wall. As Zorro ran out into the darkness, Esteban started convulsing one more time, between the bodies of the three dead men.

ZZZ

Zorro ran to the other side of the plaza, behind the tavern. There, he stopped to remove the knife sticking out of his back. When he saw the distinctive handle, he cursed to himself. That looked like Lucía's dagger, the poisoned one that killed Don Luis. If the blade was still poisoned, that explained why he was feeling so weak and dizzy all of a sudden, because the stabbing wound, although painful, wasn't that serious. He whistled for Toronado, and the black stallion came out of the shadows shortly after to take him to safety. But there was no point in riding him, because he probably didn't have much time before he passed out, like Don Luis did. He didn't have much time for anything, actually, so he should be selective with the little amount he had left.

"Go home," he said, but Toronado didn't move. "Go home I said!" Zorro cried, slapping his rump. The black stallion galloped away, across the plaza, as if he knew it was important to draw the soldiers' attention away from the tavern.

"There is Zorro! Lancers, follow him!" Ramón cried, pointing at the black horse in the dark, without noticing he carried no rider.

Zorro entered the tavern through the back door, which he had left open before, staggering and swaying to the sides. He had only one thought in mind: to see Victoria one last time, but he didn't make it past the kitchen. He tripped over a crate and fell to the floor. Unable to stand up again, he sat down to rest against the wall, where he passed out while cursing his bad luck and regretting his recent life of misery.

ZZZ

Esteban woke up where he fell, close to the jail's back door, and close to the dead men. No one seemed interested in him, with some lancers running past him, aimless like headless chickens, shouting something about chasing Zorro. He took a bit of time to fully come around, and then stood up slowly, blaming Zorro for the enhanced pain in his already battered side, because he had hit the ground too hard before. With the first light of day, he collected Victoria's weapons and made his way back to the tavern slowly, holding his side, amazed how he had been able to help Zorro in his sorry state, and how he had stayed alive to see another day, seizuring and all. And, the three men from Madrid would not cause him any problems ever again. It was a fantastic outcome.

He entered the tavern through the back door, secured the latch, and made his way through the kitchen. Half way on, he stopped in his tracks when he spotted the black figure leaning against the wall, motionless.

"Oh, no. Zorro! Are you alright?" Esteban cried, dropping the weapons. He ran to his side to check on him, and he soon realized Zorro was unconscious. He checked his torso and could not find any wounds. While doing so, Zorro's inert body slipped off the wall and fell to a side. Esteban gasped when he saw the blood staining the wall. "Shit."

He propped Zorro up against the wall again, and then hesitated with his hands on his hat until he took it off and left it at Zorro's side. When he pulled off the mask his heart nearly stopped.

"No!" he cried, jerking back, tripping over and falling on his rear end while shaking his head in denial. "No. Oh, God, no, please, no. Not him!"

He recovered enough from the shock to kneel at his side again, and then he touched his cousin's pale face to make sure it was real. It felt cold, but it wasn't his imagination. That was Diego. He slapped his face gently then, trying to wake him up, and then shook his shoulders.

"Diego! Diego, please. Please, wake up."

But Diego didn't react at all.

A torrent of memories came flooding Esteban's mind. All the little details, all the little warning signs he had ignored since he arrived in Los Angeles. All the things that, if he had paid more attention, should have made obvious the painful truth: only Diego could be Zorro. But he had ignored all the signs, just like everybody else, and had emotionally stabbed his cousin in the back, just like someone else had done to his body now. Why did you never tell me?

"Why didn't I see this coming? I'm so sorry, Diego. You have to forgive me," he said then, with a couple of shameful tears running down his face. Irritated by them, he wiped them off quickly because he had no time for self-blame and shame. "We are going to get you through this! Don't worry. I'll get the doctor!"

He replaced Zorro's mask and hat and ran out of the kitchen to the doctor's house, as fast as his battered body could go.

"Doctor Hernández, please, open up!" he shouted while knocking at the front door.

"Esteban, what's wrong with you now? Do you need more painkillers?" the doctor said when he opened the door. Esteban stepped inside quickly and slammed the door behind him.

"It's Zorro. He's been shot, or stabbed in the back. I'm not sure, but it looks serious. I don't know what happened."

"Oh, my God! Where is he?"

"At the tavern, in the kitchen."

"Did you… Did you remove his mask?" the doctor asked, although for the way his cousin was behaving, it was quite obvious that he had.

"Yes," Esteban said, struggling to keep himself under control.

"I'm so sorry. This shocking discovery was going to happen sooner or later. Come on, take me to your cousin, quick."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew. The shocking thing here is not that I knew, but how none of you De la Vegas realized what went on under your nose in that house."

"I agree. Now I realize I should have known. I'm such an idiot. No wonder he calls me idiota all the time."

"Wait until your uncle finds out. The shock might kill him with a heart attack."

"Oh, God. I don't want to be the one telling him. Come on, let's go. It is pointless to waste time talking about this. You have to save him, please. You have to!"

The doctor grabbed his bag and followed Esteban to the tavern. He examined Diego quickly and soon realized he was in deep trouble.

"He's in a pretty bad shape. I'm sorry, but I don't think he is going to make it. Not this time," he said, shaking his head.

"Don't say that! Ever!"

"Someone stabbed him. Unfortunately, with this," the doctor said, holding a dagger by the handle between his thumb and index finger, careful not to touch the blade. "It was on the floor, by his side."

"What's that? Why is that so especial?"

"I think this is the dagger that killed Don Luis. He described the handle to me before."

"No! Is it still poisoned?"

"I can't be sure, but I think so, because that stabbing wound looks deep, but not serious enough to have him unconscious and unresponsive like this. He hasn't lost much blood yet for that."

"What can you do?"

"Not much, if that is the case, other than praying. I could do nothing for Don Luis, and I still don't know what poison Lucía used. I have no idea, and nor did Diego."

"Fuck!"

"You can curse as much as you want, but that's not going to help," the doctor said while applying pressure to the wound.

"What are we going to do? There must be something we can do!"

"First thing, we have to move him to a bed. I still need to examine that wound properly. And then, we have to hope the blade didn't have enough poison left, or that it's not as active anymore."

"We can move him to a room up there, but I have to tell Victoria first. God help me; she is going to pass out when she finds out who he is."

"Be gentle there."

"It doesn't matter how I tell her. She'll have a massive breakdown anyway."

ZZZZZ