Zorro and the Little Devil by Peter David

Author:Peter David [David, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: pirates, swordsman, sword fights, buried treasure, zorro, masked hero, spanish california
Publisher: Bold Venture Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

A Most Poorly Timed Distraction

Senor Zorro was riding as quickly as he could along the main roads that threaded their way through Los Angeles. He suspected he could make his way to the docks as long as nothing occurred to distract him.

There was a sharp turn in the road ahead and he galloped around it, moving as fast as Tornado’s powerful legs would take him.

Five soldiers were blocking the way.

He couldn’t believe it. Of all the lousy timing in the world to run into a patrol, this had to be the worst moment.

“There he is!” shouted one of the soldiers, making it obvious that they had been out hunting him.

Except …

Perhaps it could be helpful.

As if he had just happened to run into a neighbor unexpectedly, Zorro raised a hand and said, “Hola, Senors.”

The cheery greeting clearly confused them. They exchanged puzzled expressions and then appeared to pull themselves together. Two of them had their rifles ready and they were aiming at him.

“Those won’t be necessary,” said Zorro as if they were aiming slingshots at him. “We need to speak, gentlemen.”

They were staring at him in obvious disbelief. “What,” asked one, “could we possibly have to talk about?”

“There are pirates abroad this evening. If you are wise, you will ride down to the docks, sit there and wait for them to return to the ship.”

One of them laughed. It was not a sound designed to make Zorro feel any comfort.

“He is feeding us the same story that his idiot friend did!” said a man whom Zorro recognized. His name was Marietta.

His chortling immediately filled Zorro with a sense of great concern. “My idiot friend?”

“Yes, yes. He came to the captain spilling foolishness about pirates. The captain saw through it of course and ordered him imprisoned.”

Idiot. What a damnable idiot.

Another officer said, “He claimed that you had told him the tale. You should come up with better ways of distracting us. Now raise your hands over your head! Immediately! I will not ask a second time.”

“As you wish,” said Senor Zorro. He brought his left arm up and his right hand was a second behind it.

But the right hand was holding his lash.

The whip snapped out and snared around Marietta’s rifle. Zorro yanked quickly, causing it to angle across Marietta’s chest and discharge into the soldier who was holding a rifle right next to him. The bullet slammed into his arm and he cried out in pain, dropping the rifle as he reflexively grabbed his bicep and tried to stanch the wound.

Zorro’s options flew through his mind in an instant. He could attempt to gallop the rest of the way to the docks, but he ran the path through his imagination and it was pretty much nothing but straight road. The horsemen would have plenty of time to aim at him and would probably land a bullet in him through sheer dumb luck, if nothing else.

The alternative was to race toward the woods, where he was reasonably sure he could shake them.

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