Chapter 83 – The flowerpots of wrath (II)

On edge, Doctor Hernández panicked when he saw that dirty finger pulling the trigger, fearing Diego would get mortally wounded and die by his side, because with a bullet through his chest, he would not be able to save him. He cringed when the gun clicked, but it didn't go off, as there was no blast, so no bullet hit Diego's heart at point blank.

Wow! This must be the luckiest man on earth! the doctor thought, letting out a sigh of relief while Victoria cried hysterically, horrified.

The doctor wondered if foxes allegedly also had nine lives, like cats, because Diego had wasted three in a row since yesterday; another one when Mendoza shot him by accident; and another one when he got poisoned with that blade. A few more examples could be added to that list, like surviving that bad fall at the horse race; when he fell into a ravine, banging his head badly; and some others the doctor didn't know about, because in all his years impersonating Zorro, Diego had risked his life many times, and he was probably hanging onto his last fox-life now.

Doctor Hernández relaxed a bit then, but soon enough, that brave man had another gun aiming at his head. Understandably, Diego looked extremely upset and angry when that despicable man assaulted Victoria, and all the doctor could do was holding his arm, trying to restrain him and calm him down, to help him staying alive through that nightmare. Only a sick bastard would rape a woman while making her boyfriend or husband watch the whole scene. The doctor couldn't stand it, livid, so he could only try to imagine what was going on through Diego's head.

Diego de la Vega wasn't the kind of man who would cower in fear in a corner and let that happen without a fight, but if he moved, he would be a dead man, and those cabrones would continue raping his woman, not making any difference to her suffering. Despite his rage, he was smart enough to understand that, so he stood still for a while, stoically doing nothing while that anger and guilt eroded him inside, until he stirred on that chair, like getting ready to make a move.

"No," the doctor whispered. "Don't do it!"

"They're going to kill us!" Diego whispered back. "We won't get away alive because we saw his face!"

Diego was probably right. The doctor also doubted those bastards would let them live in the end, but one can only hope.

When that despicable man lay on top of Victoria, Doctor Hernández had enough. He closed his eyes, unwilling to keep watching such atrocity, and loosened his grip on Diego's arm. Whatever would happen now, it was totally out of his control. At his age, he didn't feel capable of engaging in a fist fight with these men, and without weapons at hand, there wasn't much he could do to help Diego, other than picking up the pieces later on if he survived and was well enough to use his medical knowledge to help anyone, when this horrific episode was finally over.

"Get away from her, cabrón hijo de puta!"

Doctor Hernández looked at the door then and gasped, in awe. He had almost forgotten about him, and he could not believe that man would try to help anybody today, not in the dreadful condition he was in.

The man at the door was no other but Pedro, who had somehow managed to drag his battered body to the library from his room. He looked as pale as a ghost, out of breath after such effort, sweating, frowning and grimacing in pain, and, after encountering such sickening, loathsome scene, just as upset as Diego and the doctor were. He was leaning on the door frame, on his left shoulder, with his left hand holding onto his damaged stomach, obviously in a lot of pain, and with the other one he held a gun, aiming quite unsteadily at the men on the floor.

Tomás stopped for a moment to look behind, laughed at the vision of that gaunt man at the doorway —a sick man who lacked the strength to hold his gun straight, about to collapse— and he carried on thrusting faster, willing to climax quickly.

The doctor smiled with hope when he heard that gunshot outside, and the scream that followed.

"Soldiers! There are soldiers outside!"

Help! It was time!

ZZZ

The five lancers followed Toronado to the hacienda De la Vega. When they arrived there, they saw two people firing from outside, beyond the external wall, and mistakenly thought the bandits were assaulting the main building.

"Where is the sergeant?" said one of soldiers, dismounting quickly. "His horse is there."

"Who's firing? The bandits?" said another one.

Pablo saw the soldiers and signalled to them, urging them to dismount quickly and take cover. The soldiers recognized him as one of Don Alejandro's workers, not a bandit, and when a gunshot was directed at them, coming from the house, they hurried to follow his instructions, joining him by the wall.

"What's going on? Where is Sergeant Mendoza?" one of the soldiers asked Pablo when he crouched beside him.

"He went inside. The plan was to spread out and pretend we are surrounding the house, but it's only Felipe and I out here, changing positions, reloading and shooting to keep them distracted. Now, if you are so kind to keep up pretending, and keep shooting from time to time, we can also go inside and see what's going on. There are at least three hostages in the house."

"All right, we'll take over on the shooting. You two, go with them," that lancer said, pointing at two soldiers.

ZZZ

In the meantime, the other group of soldiers arrived at the Lost Canyon. They took charge of the situation, taking care of the bandits, and after checking Sepúlveda's wound, Corporal Márquez sent a couple of soldiers back to the pueblo to get the large, flat cart, so they could safely transport the injured soldier and all the prisoners.

Don Alejandro got on Dulcinea and returned home, a little bit less anxious now that he knew that at least five soldiers had headed that way to help Mendoza.

ZZZ

When that haggard looking man appeared at the door, the bandit holding the gun seemed to hesitate for a second. However, as his boss laughed and ignored the apparition, not considering that injured man a serious threat, he carried on aiming at Diego's head, impassive.

Pedro growled, annoyed because that scumbag had ignored him, and aiming as carefully as he could with his shaky hand, he fired his gun.

The bullet hit the shoulder of the thug that was holding Victoria's legs. Diego didn't know if this was intentional, aiming high to avoid hurting her, or Pedro had missed the other man, but in any case, that bandit cried in pain and fell on his back, releasing his tight grip on her thighs.

"Son of a bitch!" the bastard raping Victoria cried then, pulling off her. On his knees, he quickly pulled his trousers up and buttoned the front while more gunshots could be heard outside. Free from their clutches, Victoria tried to escape, wriggling away from that man, on her back. "Where do you think you are going?" he cried, punching her face. "Stay where you are, puta! Don't go anywhere, because we'll finish this in a moment."

With a swift move, Tomás grabbed his sword and stood up. The man he had shot in the stomach at point blank the day before still held that now useless, smoking gun in his right hand, and looked hardly able to stand.

"Why are you still alive, motherfucker?" Tomás said on his way to get him.

The doctor stood up and followed the bastard, grabbing a chair along the way.

Diego made his move then. Despite how unbalanced he felt, in that little window of distraction provided by Pedro and the doctor, he suddenly jumped forward to grab the wrist that held the gun trained on him, and he jerked that hand, bending it down. That wrist cracked under that forced, awkward angle. The bandit cried as the bones snapped, and he let go of the gun before he could fire it.

Diego pushed him away, and while reaching for the gun on the floor, misjudging its position, the injured man retaliated fast, attacking Diego with his other hand, delivering a good liver punch to his side that left him bent at the waist. As he could not reach that gun easily without falling on his face, Diego kicked it away before its owner managed to grab it. They engaged then in an awkward fist fight, with the bandit battling one-handed but still landing a few good blows on Diego, while he misdirected most of his punches, getting tired very quickly, unable to focus on his opponent, as dizzy as he was, wasting most of his energy on keeping his balance and standing on his feet while taking that punishment. With his rolling eyes, fists seemed to be coming from every direction, confusing him, and he failed to cover himself efficiently.

While they fought that awkward fight that belonged in a pantomime, Tomás reached Pedro and attacked him with the sword. Desperate, Pedro tried to fend that sword off by using the gun as a short sabre, and he managed to push it a bit off line when Tomás lunged forward. The blade cut the back of his hand badly before it hit his upper chest, close to his shoulder, rather than piercing his heart to instantly kill him. His wife, who was behind him, in the corridor, screamed in horror when she saw that piece of blood-stained metal appearing through his back in a flash, and the red stain that spread quickly on his white nightgown when the blade was withdrawn.

Tomás retrieved the blade, and before he could thrust again, the doctor attacked him from behind, smashing a sturdy chair on his back. Dazed, Tomás fell to the floor, on his knees, but he turned quickly to aim the sword at his attacker. The doctor nearly impaled himself with that blade when he tried to whack that man with the chair one more time. Instead of delivering a second blow, he stepped back, hesitating, unsure how to fight that dangerous man, resorting to keep him at bay with the chair, away from him, while awaiting the soldiers' arrival.

ZZZ

Coming from the parlour, Sergeant Mendoza entered the library from the opposite end to Pedro, after whacking another two bandits with the deadly plant pots while they were distracted, firing their guns at Felipe and Pablo through the windows. So far, against all odds, his plan of "get in and whack them all" had worked wonderfully well.

Mendoza wasn't at all ready for the scene he encountered at the library. The first thing he saw made him blink, unbelieving his own eyes. Armed only with a chair, and resembling a lion tamer at the circus, the good doctor was facing a man with a sword, trying to avoid the slicing blade that once and again flew at him. Then, he saw Don Diego fist fighting with another bandit, falling over when he failed to land one of his ineffective blows, missing his opponent, who took advantage to kick him all over as he lay on the floor, motionless, trying to cover his already hurting head with his arms. Finally, his jaw dropped when he saw Victoria completely naked, fighting with a man that was bleeding from a gunshot in his shoulder, trying to get away from him as he tried to choke her.

Mendoza snapped out of his own shock, rushing to help Victoria first, smashing one of the pots directly over that man's head, rendering him unconscious. He would have stopped to take off his jacket to cover Victoria's naked body with it, but as the man with the sword had pierced the chair's seat, cutting through it, missing the doctor's nose by a mere inch, he approached them quickly, throwing another pot to that man's head, but he missed.

"Doctor, stay away from that blade!" he cried to gain some time, because the man kicking Don Diego had produced a dagger, and he was about to stab the defeated sick man with it, on his back, so Mendoza made a quick decision: he left the doctor and rushed to help Diego, using the last plant pot to break his attacker's skull. Then he got his military sabre out, and just in time, he stopped the blade thrusted at the doctor's chest, coming between the two men.

Tomás and Mendoza engaged in a sword fight then. The sergeant was so angry, and so spurred by the situation, he only needed a few clumsy but mighty blows of his sabre —which he handled as if it was a truncheon— to disarm his opponent. Then, he kicked his groin hard, and as Tomás bent forward with the pain, falling on his knees, Mendoza also kicked his face, hitting his mouth, and that despicable man fell unconscious on his back, with some rotten, broken teeth fragments spread on the floor around him.

If he had not been there to see the sequence of actions with his own eyes, the doctor would have never believed that was exactly how it had happened, if anybody had tried to give him an account of the events later. Sergeant Mendoza had single-handedly neutralized the three bandits in less than a minute, saving everybody from a certain death. He was a hero!

"Doctor, are you alright?" the sergeant said, helping the old man up.

"Yes, thank you. Thank God your arrived!" the doctor said, quite unsteady when he got back on his feet, out of breath.

"What the hell happened here? Never mind, Doctor. Help Pedro, please," Mendoza said when he saw that unfortunate man bleeding on the floor by the door, unconscious. He didn't look good.

At least, Don Diego had managed to sit up on the floor, with his back resting on the wall, and he didn't look seriously injured, only bruised and knackered. What a relief.

And Victoria… Mendoza took his eyes off her gorgeous, naked body as she stood up, looking at the floor instead, by her feet, because that vision was too upsetting for him, and he felt embarrassed. He started to remove his jacket to offer it to her, but she rushed to her husband before he could do it.

ZZZ

Diego opened his strong arms and Victoria took shelter in them, sitting on his lap, crying and trembling out of control, holding onto him while sobbing desperately, burying her face on his chest, clasping his nightgown with both hands, once again hysterical.

"It's over! You are alright, dear. You are alright, calm down, por favor," he said, softly, caressing her head and naked back gently with shaky hands, overwhelmed by the emotion, crying as well, extremely grateful they had all survive the ordeal, specially her. He lifted his right arm and tugged hard at one of the curtains behind him, pulling it down, and he covered her trembling naked body with it. "Please, don't cry, dear. Don't cry. You're fine. Everything is fine. We made it, we are alive. Anything else doesn't matter, don't worry, I swear. You've been very brave, and you saved me by keeping a cool head. Thank you. Thank you!"

She carried on crying while he kissed her head repeatedly, staining her black hair with the trickle of blood that ran down from his bruised, split lip. She continued babbling uncoherent words to his chest, words he couldn't understand, but it didn't matter. She was so distraught it broke his heart. She shouldn't have had to endure this awful abuse. He should have stopped it. He should have prevented it, keeping her safe, protecting her. He had failed her. It was all his fault, because he had allowed it to happen, doing nothing, like a coward.

"I'm so sorry!" they both said at the same time.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, with his cheek rubbing gently on her head, hugging her tighter.

"I wanted to fight them, but I thought they would kill you if you tried to save me!" she said, the first words he could understand clearly.

"But it didn't happen. We are safe now. Let's thank God and Sergeant Mendoza for that," he said, rocking her gently in his arms while she calmed down, kissing her head again.

"Please, forgive me. Please," she said, holding onto him a bit tighter.

"Forgive you? For what? You are the one who should forgive me!"

"Forgive me because I let them do it. I'll understand if you don't want me anymore, because I'm filthy now."

"Don't be ridiculous! You are the victim here, and you are the one who should forgive me because I allowed this to happen! Perdóname, querida. Perdóname, por favor. I'll never be able to repair your sacrifice, I know that."

"After this, you won't love me anymore!" she howled, desperate, not listening to him, lost in her own world of grief and shame.

"No. I'm so sorry this happened, mi amor, but I'll never stop loving you, don't worry. On the contrary, I'll love you even more for doing this for me, for keeping me safe."

Despite his gentle words and his apologies, she carried on sobbing, still in shock, inconsolable.

At that moment, Felipe and Pablo walked in with a couple of soldiers. As Mendoza, they all looked shocked by the scene they encountered at the library.

"Are you alright?" Felipe signed, and Diego nodded.

"And her?" Pablo said, wondering by she was wrapped on a curtain.

Diego didn't reply to that question, but his quivering lips and drenched, red eyes, were enough of an answer for Pablo when he spotted the torn pieces of clothing on the floor. Then he cursed, angry as hell.

"¡Me cago en todos sus muertos, malditos hijos de puta!"

He gathered all her ripped clothes, left them in a neat, little pile beside Diego, and then rushed to check on his friend.

"Pedro! What are you doing here? You should be in bed!" he cried, crouching at his side, spotting the blood only then. Of course, his friend couldn't answer, as he had passed out. "Shit. What happened?"

Doctor Hernández was applying pressure to the fresh wound on Pedro's chest, that was bleeding profusely.

"I don't think he is going to make it, Pablo. He was already on the brink. This is too much."

"Mierda, Doctor, don't say that! I'll bring some rags, and your bag. Keep trying, please, you have to save him!"

"He was already dying with the peritonitis! I can't do miracles!" the doctor cried, stressed, regretting it immediately because Pedro's wife was behind him, already looking like a wreck even before she heard that.

"Of course you can! Keep trying!" Pablo cried as he moved away.

"You don't know how much I would like to perform miracles, María, but I'm not Jesus," Doctor Hernández said to Pedro's wife, disheartened when he couldn't stop the haemorrhage.

ZZZ

"Don Diego, are you all right?" the sergeant said a couple of minutes later, when he approached him after giving orders to the soldiers to tie all the bandits up, checking on him while he rocked the deeply distraught Victoria in his arms, with his unfocused, rolling eyes staring into nothing.

"My father. They kidnapped him," Diego said, looking up at Mendoza, anxious. "You must find him!"

"I know, Don Diego. Don't worry, he's safe and sound," Mendoza said, lying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We found your horses at the Cañón Perdido. We already rescued Don Alejandro. And the horses."

"I… I don't know what to say, Sergeant. I'm so impressed by your actions. Thank you for all you have done today. Zorro would have been so proud of you."

These words made Mendoza stand upright, puffing his chest, feeling proud like a peacock.

"Men of steel, remember, Don Diego? Men of steel…" he said, readjusting his jacket, pulling it straight, dusting off the dirt to smarten up, self-satisfied.

ZZZZZ