Get a Load of This (13 page)

     So Dedos was still alive, he thought with satisfaction. He had managed to get as far as the farmhouse. Perhaps he would get inside. He dare not go down to let him in. Any moment Pablo's men might try to rush the house.
     Again a grenade was thrown. This time it was obvious to Holtz that it was aimed at Dedos below. Holtz heard his yell of terror as the grenade exploded, and the whole house trembled with the force of the explosion.
     Holtz fired a furious burst through the thicket and then shouted down to Dedos, but no one answered him. “I think they have Dedos too,” he said to Castra. “It is well that Pablo's army didn't attack in the first place. These men are very good.”
     Castra didn't hear him. He had died very quietly just before the grenade had exploded. Holtz turned his head to look at him, and as he realized that Castra was dead the sound of something falling at his feet made him jerk round.
     A long, black grenade lay close by him. It had been very skilfully thrown through the hole in the shutter and now it lay there within a few feet of him. He had no time to flatten out or make any effort to protect himself. The word 'Nina' came to his lips, but he hadn't time to say the word before the grenade exploded.
     He was conscious of a bright yellow flash and a lot of noise. Then he sat up on his elbow and stared at the Lewis gun that had fallen over on its side again. He had been thrown right across the room and his hand rested on the spongy pulp that had been Castra's face. Shuddering, he jerked his hand away and tried to get to his feet. As he moved, a wave of pain lurched into him, cutting his breath and bringing a scream fluttering in his mouth.
     He held himself very still. Down the front of his tunic he could see a number of blood-stained little holes and he knew that his chest had been riddled with small splinters of shrapnel.
     He lay on his elbow, waiting for the pain to go away. As he lay, he said in a low, sobbing whisper, “Look what they have done to me, Nina.” Then, because he was alone, hurt and rather frightened, he began to call to Nina as if she could hear him.
     The pain that kept lurching in and out of his chest finally brought him to his senses, and he suddenly remembered the patrol outside. They would be coming to the farmhouse in a moment or so, to make sure that they had killed him. He must get the gun into position and settle them once and for all.
     He knew that it would hurt if he moved, but he mustn't mind a little pain, he told himself. Come along, he said to himself, come along. Now, move your arm. Sit up slowly. That's right. Hell! It does hurt, doesn't it? Hell! Hell! Hell! He began to cry, but he got his body upright and turned on to his hands and knees. Blood began to drip from his chest on to the floor. He remained like that for several seconds, his head hanging, almost touching the floor. Then he crawled slowly over to the gun and sat down heavily beside it.
     The pain took hold of him with steel fingers and ripped into him savagely. A feeling of nausea brought him out into a cold sweat, but he took hold of the gun and dragged it into position. The movement made him lean over the gun and vomit. He was aware only of thinking how glad he was that Nina couldn't see him now. How shocked and horrified she would have been. He pulled the gun carefully round so that the sights covered the road, and then he eased his body against the gun. Sooner or later they would come. If they waited until dark, it didn't matter, because Cortez would be too far away. If they came now, he would be able to stop them. Yes, it was going better than he had hoped.
      
     How are you, Nina? What are you doing now? You really mustn't worry about me, because I am quite all right. You might not think so, if you saw me, but I am really. It is dying alone that frightens people. To be left quite alone. I can understand it, can't you? But I am not alone. I have never been alone since I met you. You are here in my head and my heart and I am not afraid to die. It is you that I grieve for, because you will be left. If you have loved me as I think you have, you should not be alone either. I shall be with you long after I have ceased to walk and talk and laugh with you. Nothing can really part us, not after the things we have done together, and the nights we have spent together.
     I hope the General is kind when he tells you. That will be the worst moment, but when you are alone again, you mil find that there is no pain that is too great to bear. You will have courage because if our love has meant anything at all it will be as a shield in your hour of need.
     You won't have regrets, will you? I don't think you will, but I should be very unhappy if you did. No, there must be no regrets. We must be satisfied that we were happy and we have always been kind to each other. That is so very important, isn't it? You can look back on our life together without any reproach. You have denied me nothing, and I know that I also, so far away from you and so soon to die, have been steadfast to you. I hope you don't hear about the gun, but that is the way of war. You die so seldom for what you are fighting. War is made up of errors and pride and rashness. If Generals are proud or make mistakes, they have tomorrow to try again. So I hope you don't hear about the gun, which was very silly to die for.
     I know you will be lonely. That is a very sad word. I know how I should be if you were taken from me, but that is the price you have to pay for the past, which was so lovely.
     And, Nina, thank you for everything. Yes, really thank you. I am so grateful for what you have given me, and this I promise you. There will come a time when we shall meet again. It may be years and years, but it will come, and we shall be together again. We shall be able to take up our love again. We shall find that our love has not rusted even from your tears. And when we meet again, let life be free from war and hate and uncertainty and distrust. You will not find me changed. So be patient, and although the wait may be long, it will come right in the end. I know it will come right, and because I am so sure, I am not frightened any more.
      
     Two of Pablo's men appeared cautiously from the thicket and looked up at the farmhouse. Holtz watched them through a haze of pain. Come along, he said softly, all of you. Not just two, but all of you. It is quite safe for you because we are dead in this house, so come quickly and keep very close together.
     Three others seemed to materialize out of the ground and the five of them stood hesitating, their rifles advanced, staring up at the shattered window. Still Holtz sat there, holding on to the gun and breathing with great difficulty. This time there must be no mistake. He willed them to come to him, exerting his mind as the blood continued to drip from him, with an irritating sound, on to the floor.
     They finally made up their minds that it would be safe to approach, and in a body they began to move. Holtz waited until they were in the middle of the road, then, with his remaining strength, savagely, and with deadly precision, he cut them to pieces.

     
     The park stretched away into distant flower-beds, trees and heavy shrubs. Near the main gates was a large boating-pond. A number of brightly painted boats rested at anchor in the middle of the pond. Tennis-courts to the right of the pond were deserted. The nets hung slackly, and the white lines stood out sharply against the green grass.
     It was early. If it had been a Sunday, no doubt even at that hour, the park would have been crowded, but it was only Thursday, and there was work to be done.
     So, for over an hour, the park was very peaceful, and the only sign of movement was from the birds that sang in the sunshine, and flew from branch to branch, or suddenly swooped to the ground. Then two young men walked through the main gates and moved down the centre avenue. They looked very much alike. They were both dressed in shabby blue suits, pinched in at the waist, and very baggy in the trousers. They wore pointed shoes that they hadn't bothered to clean, and black, slouch hats worn tilted on the bridge of their noses. Cigarettes dangled from slack lips, and their hands were thrust deeply into trouser pockets, hunching their shoulders.
     Although they were shabby, there was a rhythmic smartness in their movements. Their walk and their balanced poise was similar to the movements of a tiger treading softly through a dense thicket.
     They walked past the boating-pond, leaving a wispy trail of tobacco smoke that floated in the still air behind them. On, past the flower-beds, through the avenue of trees and then, branching off the main avenue, they walked along a smaller path that led to the woods.
     They didn't speak to each other, but their bright bird-like eyes, moving in quick little darts, missed nothing. The path twisted through the woods, mounting gradually to a high mound which overlooked the whole of the park. Walking, now in single file, they finally reached the top and stood motionless, their eyes darting to the right and to the left. The park seemed quite deserted. Except for these two young men, and the birds, nothing moved.
     The two young men remained standing motionless for some little while, their cigarettes bobbing now and then, as they drew in a lungful of smoke. Then one of them nudged the other. A long way to the right he had seen a movement that had caught his eye. His companion's eyes darted in the direction that the other had indicated. He could just make out someone moving towards them, appearing and disappearing behind the screen of trees. Both of them became very intent. Their heads thrust forward and their eyes narrowed.
     After a short while, a girl came out of the wood and moved towards them up the twisty path.
     They looked at each other and nodded, then they separated and vanished into the bushes.
     The girl came on slowly, unconscious that she wasn't entirely alone. She wore a cheap print dress that had once been very pretty, but constant washing had faded its large flowered pattern. She was bareheaded, and carried a perky little straw hat in her hand. She was above the average height and slender. Her figure was rather childish, and she had soft, smudgy curves as if she had never worn a restricting garment.
     She was not exactly pretty, because her features were irregular and her expression vague, but the two young men, watching her, thought she was attractive enough.
     She came on slowly, swinging her hat carelessly, and singing softly. She reached the top of the mound and looked a little vaguely round the park. Then she sat down with her back to a tree, stretched out her long legs and adjusted the dress with a prim little movement.
     The two young men gave her a few minutes to settle down, then they made a quick, silent detour and came out on to the path where she was bound to see them. They walked towards her silently, and without appearing to notice her.
     Under their hat brims they saw that she was startled. In fact, for a moment, their sudden appearance nearly panicked her. She started up as if she were about to spring to her feet, but seeing that they were so close she turned her head, as if she hadn't seen them, and relaxed once more against the tree.
     One of the young men said, “Do you think we ought to speak to her?”
     “Aw, Jakie, why not? She looks sort of lonely all by herself.”
     The girl kept her head turned from them, but they could see by the way she stiffened that she had heard what they had said.
     The young man addressed as Jakie moved closer to her. “It's a nice morning, isn't it?” he said. His voice was very flat, cold and unmusical.
     She didn't say anything.
     “It's swell to walk in the park on a mornin' like this, ain't it?” he went on, gently kicking a root of the tree with his soiled shoe. “There's no one about. You can just wander around an' do what you like.”
     The other young man suddenly giggled.
     Jakie frowned at him. “Gee, Pugsey, can't you behave? Ain't nothin' to laugh about.”
     Pugsey giggled again. “She ain't takin' any notice of you,” he said. “Don't look like you're gettin' places so fast.”
     Jakie turned back to the girl. “You mustn't mind him,” he said. “You see, he don't know how to handle dames. I do.”
     She still said nothing.
     Pugsey said, “Maybe she's deaf,” hopefully.
     Jakie shook his head. “Naw,” he said, “she ain't deaf; she's just a little dumb.”
     Pugsey gave a sudden squeal of laughter. “Gee!” he said. “I bet you read that somewhere. That's pretty smart.”
     The girl suddenly looked at them. Her eyes were scared, not because she was frightened of them, but because she was scared that they were making fun of her. “Go away, please,” she said, “I don't want to talk to you.”
     Jakie took a step back. “Did you hear that, Pugsey? She don't want to talk to us.”
     “Too bad,” Pugsey said, squatting on his heels and staring at the girl. He kept his distance and was to the rear and to the right of Jakie. “Can you think of any reason why she wouldn't want to talk to us?”
     Jakie shook his head. “Naw,” he said. “Suppose you ask her?”
     “You're a smart guy,” Pugsey said. “Isn't he a smart guy?” he went on to the girl. “Jakie always gets to the root of anything. You see, he wants to know why. You tell us.”
     The girl looked away without speaking.
     “She's in a trance again,” Pugsey said, shifting a little nearer. “I don't think she likes you, Jakie.”
     Jakie sat on the ground and leant back on his elbows. The girl was between the two of them. He selected a long blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “What the hell's the matter with me?” he asked. “Why shouldn't she like me?”
     Pugsey considered this. “Maybe you smell or something,” he suggested, after some thought.
     Jakie picked his nose. “Ask her,” he said.
     “What's wrong with Jakie?” Pugsey asked, looking at the girl. “That's a fair question, ain't it?”
     She made a move as if she were going to get up, but the two suddenly became very tense, looking at her coldly with their hard little eyes, and she relaxed again against the tree. She looked rather desperately across the park, but she could see no one.
     The two followed her gaze. “Too early,” Jakie said. “We're lucky to find you, I guess. Do you know, Pugsey, she reminds me of that little judy we ran into a couple of weeks ago on Franklin Street.”
     “The one we took into that empty house?” Pugsey asked.
     “Yeah.”
     Pugsey looked at the girl again. “Maybe you've got something there. Yeah, I think you've got something there.”
     “She ain't so fair, is she? Still, she's about the same age. Jeeze! Didn't that one squawk when we—you know.”
     Pugsey giggled. “It don't matter a great deal if this one squawks here, does it? I mean, there ain't anyone around to come bustin' in. Maybe she'll be sensible.”
     The girl had gone very white and her eyes opened wide. She put one hand on the ground and struggled up on her knees.
     Jakie said, “Looks like she's goin' to take a powder.”
     Pugsey edged a little nearer. “Naw,” he said, “she's going to be sensible, ain't you, baby?”
     The girl said: “Leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you. Go away. Please go away.”
     Jakie put his fingers into his vest pocket. “Hear her talk,” he said, his dark little eyes darting over her. “Think I ought to try and persuade her?”
     Pugsey nodded. “Yeah, we better hurry. Look, it's gettin' late.” He produced a cheap watch and waved it in front of Jakie.
     Jakie took a little green bottle with a glass stopper from his pocket. He said to the girl: “It's acid. Burns, you know; eats into things. Makes holes in your skin.”
     The girl crouched back. She tried to speak, but she could only make a terrified whimpering noise.
     “If I throw this at you,” Jakie said simply, “it'll spoil your pretty face. I just want you to be sensible and do what you're told. If you try and get tough, then you'll get this in your mug, see? Otherwise, you'll be all right.”
     Pugsey giggled again.
     “Maybe we'd better toss for it,” Jakie said, taking a dime out of his pocket.
     Pugsey called and won. Jakie got up and dusted down his suit. He put the little bottle in his pocket. Then he looked at the girl with his cold, unfeeling eyes. “I got it here,” he said, patting his pocket, “be good. I ain't tellin' you a second time. One dame didn't believe me. Remember how she squawked, Pugsey? Remember how she ran down the street with the stuff stripping the meat off her face? She was a dope, wasn't she? Be smart, sister. We ain't going to be long.”
     Pugsey walked over to her and pulled her to her feet. She cringed from him, but she didn't try to run away.
     Jakie sat with his back to a tree, his black hat over his nose, and a cigarette dangling from his thin lips. His little eyes kept watch over the park, missing nothing.
     When Pugsey got through, Jakie went over to the girl, and Pugsey kept watch. Pugsey had to stuff his handkerchief in his mouth to stop his giggles when the girl began crying. He was mighty glad that she hadn't done that when he was with her. Jakie had betted him a dollar that she would be too scared to cry. It amused Pugsey to think he'd won a dollar from Jakie, because Jakie hated giving money away.
     They left the girl on the mound and walked back to the boating-pond. Jakie gave Pugsey the dollar rather sourly.
     Pugsey didn't want him to feel bad about it, so he said: “You're a smart guy, Jakie. I didn't really think it would work.”
     Jakie took the little bottle out of his pocket and fondled it. “I knew it would,” he said, with a thin grimace that served him as a smile. “But it was a good thing she didn't look too close, the bottle's empty.” He went to the edge of the pond and carefully dipped the bottle in, filling it with the muddy water. “It wouldn't do to make the same mistake twice.”
     Pugsey said: “Naw, but these dames are pretty dumb. They wouldn't notice nothin'.”
     Together they went out of the park, moving slightly less rhythmetically than they had when they came in.