That was it.
Brick was cold, tired and hungry. His broken nose was throbbing with almost unbearable pain. And a man had just winked at him for the second time in one day. He had had enough.
Knowing that Sylvio and Harley would be more concerned with getting as far away from the Russian helicopter as possible, he didn’t bother to be subtle as he rolled onto his back. Never very flexible, he brought his knees up to his chest as far as he could and forced his zip-tied hands over his feet and to the front of his body, nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process. Then, with a determination that can only be accomplished through the power of spite, he chewed through the zip ties.
His hands finally free, Brick turned around on his knees and saw Sylvio and Harley arguing through the back window of the cab of the truck. He spit, cracked his knuckles, and then in one swift motion punched through the glass and pulled out the parking brake, bringing the big truck to a screeching halt and sending him flying into the cab.
Both Sylvio and Harley were thrown forward with the jolt and sat there, stunned. When they finally realized what had happened, Brick was facing them, covered in broken glass, his back against the radio, his legs sticking out of the gaping hole in the back window, and his nose dripping fresh blood. But he had a gun in each hand, one pointed at each of their faces. They both instinctively reached for their empty leg holsters at the same time.
“Now listen to me very carefully,” said Brick, his voice level and his hands perfectly steady. “First off, Happy Thanksgiving. Secondly, I want that gold. No more distractions. No more running around. I just want what I came here for. You can either help me, or I can kill you both right here.”
Sylvio grinned. “Just tell us what you want us to do.”
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Part 8 - From Mario E. in La Quinta, CA
Thoughts were racing through Brick’s mind. It’s not like his brother and him were ever the best of friends, but he had always thought that they were at least there for each other. But now he was riding in the back of a pick-up truck, in a truck bed that seemed ravaged by countless wars and years of rust, tied up and feeling like the end would come fairly soon.
Humphrey already looked like he had a plan about to hatch. The rust on the broken pieces of the truck looked like they could EASILY cut through the zip-ties that were on their wrists. No sooner had Brick thought this than Humphrey showed him his un-zip-tied hands in triumph. Brick started cutting the zip-ties with his own side of the mangled truck, when the truck suddenly stopped.
Silvio walked out of the car with his goon to the back of the truck. “You didn’t think I was THAT stupid, did you little brother?” Brick looked at him with a blank look on his face. Humphrey exchanged the look, hoping along with Brick that Silvio had not figured out their plan to break free of their captives.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Silvio,” Brick replied in his low voice.
Silvio responded with his cold calculating tone, “Little brudder, you didn’t think I wouldn’t have been able to tell that you stuck this tracking device on the bottom of the car, did you? I work with the NSA, remember? We know aaaalll about tracking and finding information.” With that, Silvio took out his switchblade and cut a tiny transponder off the bottom of the truck.
“Okay, Silvio. I know in my current situation, with being tied up and all, I don’t really have any clout in trying to convince you that it wasn’t me. But in all honesty, I’m a little afraid, because even I don’t know who put that there,” replied Brick.
“Then who could’ve possi-” Silvio was suddenly cut off by the sound of gunfire raining down around them from a Havoc attack helicopter.
“Now the fucking RUSSIANS are involved?!?” exclaimed Harley. “What kind of shit ya’ bringin’ me into boss?”
Suddenly the firing stopped and a booming heavily accented Russian voice thundered down onto the ensemble below. “Give us the hunchback, and you will be allowed on your way. Failure to comply will result in immediate termination.”
Brick stared dumbfounded at Humphrey, who could only manage a wink before a rope dropped down and he grabbed on while the helicopter took off. Then the truck peeled out and took off with Brick still in the back. They drove around a bend in the crude jungle road, and his friend was obstructed from his view.
Humphrey already looked like he had a plan about to hatch. The rust on the broken pieces of the truck looked like they could EASILY cut through the zip-ties that were on their wrists. No sooner had Brick thought this than Humphrey showed him his un-zip-tied hands in triumph. Brick started cutting the zip-ties with his own side of the mangled truck, when the truck suddenly stopped.
Silvio walked out of the car with his goon to the back of the truck. “You didn’t think I was THAT stupid, did you little brother?” Brick looked at him with a blank look on his face. Humphrey exchanged the look, hoping along with Brick that Silvio had not figured out their plan to break free of their captives.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Silvio,” Brick replied in his low voice.
Silvio responded with his cold calculating tone, “Little brudder, you didn’t think I wouldn’t have been able to tell that you stuck this tracking device on the bottom of the car, did you? I work with the NSA, remember? We know aaaalll about tracking and finding information.” With that, Silvio took out his switchblade and cut a tiny transponder off the bottom of the truck.
“Okay, Silvio. I know in my current situation, with being tied up and all, I don’t really have any clout in trying to convince you that it wasn’t me. But in all honesty, I’m a little afraid, because even I don’t know who put that there,” replied Brick.
“Then who could’ve possi-” Silvio was suddenly cut off by the sound of gunfire raining down around them from a Havoc attack helicopter.
“Now the fucking RUSSIANS are involved?!?” exclaimed Harley. “What kind of shit ya’ bringin’ me into boss?”
Suddenly the firing stopped and a booming heavily accented Russian voice thundered down onto the ensemble below. “Give us the hunchback, and you will be allowed on your way. Failure to comply will result in immediate termination.”
Brick stared dumbfounded at Humphrey, who could only manage a wink before a rope dropped down and he grabbed on while the helicopter took off. Then the truck peeled out and took off with Brick still in the back. They drove around a bend in the crude jungle road, and his friend was obstructed from his view.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Part 7 - From Gampy in Rancho Mirage, CA
The light reflecting through the shards of broken beer bottles was like sand in Brick’s eyes. As the gorge came up in the back of his throat, Brick realized that the grits of which he’d been dreaming must have been the vomit and blood he’d swallowed during his lights out.
Spitting ferociously, Brick came fully awake and found himself still bound, though the hood had been removed. He was lying on rough, sandy ground, his back to a warm, misshapen body, apparently Humphrey.
He didn’t know how long he was out, but he noticed that the campfire had been rebuilt, by someone who knew what they were doing.
A voice from across the flames greeted him: “Hello, brother -- so good to see you again after all these years. I’m not particularly impressed with the company you’ve been keeping, Clarence. Where did you find this hunch-backed dummy? I’ve been trying to have a civil conversation with him and all I can get is grunts.”
“Silvio,” muttered Brick, “imagine finding you here alive and well. I’d believe you came to rescue me but for the ‘welcome’.”
“I’m truly sorry I had to whack you Clarence, but the NSA folks are still paying the bills. I had to convince them you were a national security risk before they’d even spring for a charter down here. At least I had the decency to wait for you to wake up.” Silvio burped as he finished his latest beer and crashed the bottle on a rock.
“NSA...So that’s who you’ve been working for?” asked Brick.
“Indeed,” replied his long lost brother.
“And that’s who sent you?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re on an assignment?? Give me a break -- what possible interest could the NSA have in finding me?”
Silvio chuckled, “I convinced them you had joined the Churromatsu terrorists and the only way to capture the cell was to find you and convince you to bring them to justice. The NSA has a BIG interest in stopping terrorism these days.”
“Have you lost your mind? There are no Churromatsu terrorists - Churromatsu is a treasure fable,” Brick replied sarcastically.
“Ah Clarence, you’re so naïve. I know there’s no terrorists, but you have to remember the world we live in. Talk about terrorism and it gets the boss’s attention. Talk about a terror threat and it gets the money for expenses flowing. Well listen, I’d love to reminisce with you about the family these last few years but...I’ve got an itch for gold. Let’s roll. YOH, HARLEY!!”
A ramshackle pick up truck soon backed up to the campfire and a heavily tattooed man hopped out. Harley and Silvio tossed Humphrey into the back of the truck. Brick could hear the hunchback's head thump. “Oh shucks, I’m sorry, dummy -- feel free to tell me how much it hurt,” said Silvio. Harley chuckled menacingly at his boss’s little joke.
Turning to Brick, Silvio said, “Okay brudder, up you go. Once we get along farther, you’ll get to ride up front with the adults. But for now we’ll let you relax with your hunch buddy.” Silvio and Harley tossed Brick into the back with Humphrey, this time facing each other. As the truck pulled away, Humphrey managed a clandestine wink. At least Brick thought it was a wink. Humphrey only had one eye, so it was hard to tell.
Spitting ferociously, Brick came fully awake and found himself still bound, though the hood had been removed. He was lying on rough, sandy ground, his back to a warm, misshapen body, apparently Humphrey.
He didn’t know how long he was out, but he noticed that the campfire had been rebuilt, by someone who knew what they were doing.
A voice from across the flames greeted him: “Hello, brother -- so good to see you again after all these years. I’m not particularly impressed with the company you’ve been keeping, Clarence. Where did you find this hunch-backed dummy? I’ve been trying to have a civil conversation with him and all I can get is grunts.”
“Silvio,” muttered Brick, “imagine finding you here alive and well. I’d believe you came to rescue me but for the ‘welcome’.”
“I’m truly sorry I had to whack you Clarence, but the NSA folks are still paying the bills. I had to convince them you were a national security risk before they’d even spring for a charter down here. At least I had the decency to wait for you to wake up.” Silvio burped as he finished his latest beer and crashed the bottle on a rock.
“NSA...So that’s who you’ve been working for?” asked Brick.
“Indeed,” replied his long lost brother.
“And that’s who sent you?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re on an assignment?? Give me a break -- what possible interest could the NSA have in finding me?”
Silvio chuckled, “I convinced them you had joined the Churromatsu terrorists and the only way to capture the cell was to find you and convince you to bring them to justice. The NSA has a BIG interest in stopping terrorism these days.”
“Have you lost your mind? There are no Churromatsu terrorists - Churromatsu is a treasure fable,” Brick replied sarcastically.
“Ah Clarence, you’re so naïve. I know there’s no terrorists, but you have to remember the world we live in. Talk about terrorism and it gets the boss’s attention. Talk about a terror threat and it gets the money for expenses flowing. Well listen, I’d love to reminisce with you about the family these last few years but...I’ve got an itch for gold. Let’s roll. YOH, HARLEY!!”
A ramshackle pick up truck soon backed up to the campfire and a heavily tattooed man hopped out. Harley and Silvio tossed Humphrey into the back of the truck. Brick could hear the hunchback's head thump. “Oh shucks, I’m sorry, dummy -- feel free to tell me how much it hurt,” said Silvio. Harley chuckled menacingly at his boss’s little joke.
Turning to Brick, Silvio said, “Okay brudder, up you go. Once we get along farther, you’ll get to ride up front with the adults. But for now we’ll let you relax with your hunch buddy.” Silvio and Harley tossed Brick into the back with Humphrey, this time facing each other. As the truck pulled away, Humphrey managed a clandestine wink. At least Brick thought it was a wink. Humphrey only had one eye, so it was hard to tell.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Part 6
Brick dreamed of the night his wife gave him the news. Everything was as he remembered it. Except this time they were the only ones in the restaurant. And for some reason he was eating grits, which he hated. And it was at Church’s Chicken instead of Red Lobster.
But the conversation was the same. She started off with the crying and the apologies. Then she transitioned to making those feeble excuses movie characters make. Finally, she offered to let him run around on her for a while, as some kind of restitution. But he would have none of that. He had never cheated on anyone before and wasn’t about to do so now. Brick had plenty of flaws: Sometimes he drank too much. His temper was terrible to behold in the right circumstances. He wasn’t very sentimental. Gambling addiction. Not much of a cook. Almost never flossed. Fidelity, at least, was a quality he could choose to have.
As he finished his 1st beer, which had started him on the road to destruction that fateful evening, he refused her offer. She seemed to will her eyes dry then, as she had done in real life. Then came the anger. She berated him for the better part of an hour, listing all the aforementioned flaws and many more. It had been embarrassing then as it was now, even without an audience. His reaction was the same: staring at the table and finishing beer after beer, which in the dream seemed to come out of nowhere. Originally, he had finally stood up, threw a hundred dollar bill on the table and cut her off with, “You know what? I’ll just walk back to the base. Maybe I’ll stop by the motor pool…” and walked out.
But now his dream suddenly became lucid near the end of her tirade. As soon as he knew it was a dream, the scenery changed. They were still at a table, but now they were in the Death Star, where Emperor Palpatine had died. Brick slowly and methodically stood up, picked his wife up over his head, and walked to where Luke Skywalker had been saved by Darth Vader. Laughing like a madman, he tossed her into the reactor shaft, and she fell screaming into the cold, metallic abyss.
“Hehe, sweet,” he muttered weakly, before his eyes were even open, as he slowly began to wake up. He opened them a crack and the flood of light brought with it a pounding headache.
But the conversation was the same. She started off with the crying and the apologies. Then she transitioned to making those feeble excuses movie characters make. Finally, she offered to let him run around on her for a while, as some kind of restitution. But he would have none of that. He had never cheated on anyone before and wasn’t about to do so now. Brick had plenty of flaws: Sometimes he drank too much. His temper was terrible to behold in the right circumstances. He wasn’t very sentimental. Gambling addiction. Not much of a cook. Almost never flossed. Fidelity, at least, was a quality he could choose to have.
As he finished his 1st beer, which had started him on the road to destruction that fateful evening, he refused her offer. She seemed to will her eyes dry then, as she had done in real life. Then came the anger. She berated him for the better part of an hour, listing all the aforementioned flaws and many more. It had been embarrassing then as it was now, even without an audience. His reaction was the same: staring at the table and finishing beer after beer, which in the dream seemed to come out of nowhere. Originally, he had finally stood up, threw a hundred dollar bill on the table and cut her off with, “You know what? I’ll just walk back to the base. Maybe I’ll stop by the motor pool…” and walked out.
But now his dream suddenly became lucid near the end of her tirade. As soon as he knew it was a dream, the scenery changed. They were still at a table, but now they were in the Death Star, where Emperor Palpatine had died. Brick slowly and methodically stood up, picked his wife up over his head, and walked to where Luke Skywalker had been saved by Darth Vader. Laughing like a madman, he tossed her into the reactor shaft, and she fell screaming into the cold, metallic abyss.
“Hehe, sweet,” he muttered weakly, before his eyes were even open, as he slowly began to wake up. He opened them a crack and the flood of light brought with it a pounding headache.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Part 5
“You talk,” Brick finally said, flabbergastedly, when his own speech returned.
“I do indeed,” replied Humphrey.
“Why didn’t you speak before?” asked Brick, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.
“I find one learns more by listening, especially one of my…condition. People tend to let their guard down in the presence of a mute one-eyed hunchback.”
Brick stared at the fire a moment. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a hip flask. He unscrewed the top, took a long drink, and tossed it across the fire to Humphrey, who caught it in the air.
As Humphrey drank, Brick asked him, “So how’d you end up down here? That ain’t no jungle accent.”
“I was born here.” He tossed the flask back to Brick who killed it. “My parents were missionaries. When I was born, many thought they were cursed. As my deformities became more pronounced, the villagers became increasingly hostile toward me. When I was 10, I took up juggling and was subsequently accused of witchcraft. A group of villagers came to our house to take me away. My father, always a man of peace, met them on the steps with a shotgun. He took down a couple, but they overpowered him and killed him. However, his actions bought my mother and I just enough time to escape. We fled to England.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Brick.
“Revenge. But those that killed my father were dead by the time I returned. A sickness had passed through the village and killed many. I suppose it was they who were cursed. I thought about digging up their skeletons and juggling the bones, for some kind of symbolic vengeance, but I decided against it.”
Brick smiled, remembering the skeleton festivals of his youth.
“Soon enough,” continued Humphrey, “I fell in love with a village girl and married her. And now, 13 children later, here I am.”
“You helped me escape,” said Brick. “Will your family be in danger?”
“I do not think so. My wife is a cousin of the chief, and while he is fairly unforgiving to outsiders, he is loyal to his kin. Nevertheless, I will go back to rescue them.”
“As I will go back to rescue the gold.”
“Ahhh, the Gold of Churromatsu.”
“You’ve heard of it. Do you know where it is?” Brick’s eyes lit up.
“No, but I may be able to find it. If you help me get my family out, I will help you find the gold.”
Brick pondered that a moment. “Deal,” he finally responded. “I’m not much for heroics, but I’ll make an exception this time. Now, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What did you do while you were in England?”
“Well, when we first arrived-ARGH!” Suddenly, two hands came out of the darkness and pulled a burlap sack over Humphrey’s head and yanked him back. Before Brick could react, the same thing happened to him. His hands were soon zip tied behind his back and someone was holding him from behind. Someone else stepped in front of him.
Brick heard a familiar voice say, “Clarence Brickhausen. Do you know who sent me?”
“Uh…your mama?”
The man chuckled. Then something hard and flat hit Brick square in the face, and the last thing he heard was the crunch of his nose breaking before he lost consciousness.
“I do indeed,” replied Humphrey.
“Why didn’t you speak before?” asked Brick, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.
“I find one learns more by listening, especially one of my…condition. People tend to let their guard down in the presence of a mute one-eyed hunchback.”
Brick stared at the fire a moment. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a hip flask. He unscrewed the top, took a long drink, and tossed it across the fire to Humphrey, who caught it in the air.
As Humphrey drank, Brick asked him, “So how’d you end up down here? That ain’t no jungle accent.”
“I was born here.” He tossed the flask back to Brick who killed it. “My parents were missionaries. When I was born, many thought they were cursed. As my deformities became more pronounced, the villagers became increasingly hostile toward me. When I was 10, I took up juggling and was subsequently accused of witchcraft. A group of villagers came to our house to take me away. My father, always a man of peace, met them on the steps with a shotgun. He took down a couple, but they overpowered him and killed him. However, his actions bought my mother and I just enough time to escape. We fled to England.”
“Why did you come back?” asked Brick.
“Revenge. But those that killed my father were dead by the time I returned. A sickness had passed through the village and killed many. I suppose it was they who were cursed. I thought about digging up their skeletons and juggling the bones, for some kind of symbolic vengeance, but I decided against it.”
Brick smiled, remembering the skeleton festivals of his youth.
“Soon enough,” continued Humphrey, “I fell in love with a village girl and married her. And now, 13 children later, here I am.”
“You helped me escape,” said Brick. “Will your family be in danger?”
“I do not think so. My wife is a cousin of the chief, and while he is fairly unforgiving to outsiders, he is loyal to his kin. Nevertheless, I will go back to rescue them.”
“As I will go back to rescue the gold.”
“Ahhh, the Gold of Churromatsu.”
“You’ve heard of it. Do you know where it is?” Brick’s eyes lit up.
“No, but I may be able to find it. If you help me get my family out, I will help you find the gold.”
Brick pondered that a moment. “Deal,” he finally responded. “I’m not much for heroics, but I’ll make an exception this time. Now, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What did you do while you were in England?”
“Well, when we first arrived-ARGH!” Suddenly, two hands came out of the darkness and pulled a burlap sack over Humphrey’s head and yanked him back. Before Brick could react, the same thing happened to him. His hands were soon zip tied behind his back and someone was holding him from behind. Someone else stepped in front of him.
Brick heard a familiar voice say, “Clarence Brickhausen. Do you know who sent me?”
“Uh…your mama?”
The man chuckled. Then something hard and flat hit Brick square in the face, and the last thing he heard was the crunch of his nose breaking before he lost consciousness.
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