In the dusky gray hue of twilight, a truck bearing an unusual load rumbled noisily along a worn, rutted dirt road that had been cut rather haphazardly into the thick forest. A deeply tanned individual wearing a Sherlock Holmes cape sat on the rear of the conveyance, occasionally looking over his shoulder at his prize: a converted porpoise tank containing not cetaceans, but four young human males. They pounded weakly on the glass, rising to the top of the tank every few moments to gasp for air.
The man on the back of the vehicle--known only as Vic--smiled. His captives were worth more than anything he’d ever caught before. His motives were dark and unknown to all but him. Of one thing he was certain--he was delighted by the fine catch riding along with him. He laughed in spite of himself.
He never saw the dark eyes following him through the fog. A shapely mane of black hair followed the eyes. There was a flash of gray and red as the figure moved to follow the noisy combustion vehicle.
Inside the tank, the foursome came up simultaneously for air.
“We gotta get out of here!” one of them spluttered. His name was Micky.
“Thank you for clearing that up!” another replied. “I wasn’t aware we were in trouble!” His name was Mike.
“You weren’t?” still another said. “I knew we were in trouble all along!” His name was Peter.
“Hey, guys, give it a rest!” yet another shouted to quiet the other three. “You’re using up our air!” His name was Davy.
“Yeah, Davy’s right,” Mike said, shaking the water from his hair. “I wonder why that creep’s got us in here, anyway.”
As if on cue, their captor opened a barred trapdoor on the roof of the aquarium and peered down at them. The four glared up at him with unabashed hatred.
“Well, well, well, my pretties. How do you like your transportation?”
“It stinks!” Micky shouted. It was true: the water inside was salty and reeked of brine. “We’re the Monkees, not the Fishies!”
Their captor shook his head in mock regret. “Well, I apologize for this improper transit. Soon you’ll join your simian counterparts--in cages.” He slammed the door down, drowning out their cries of outrage.
“Well, that’s just lovely,” Mike muttered, pounding the surface of the water with his fist.
“’Ey, guys,” Davy said. He motioned for the others to join him as he stared intently through the glass. “What’s that?”
The others waded over. “I don’t see anything,” Micky said, squinting into the blackness through burning eyes.
“No, wait, I see it,” Peter said, pointing to the dim flash of color that darted in amongst the thick grove of trees outside. It looked like a person.
“What is that?” Davy asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.
“I don’t know,” Mike said ominously. “But I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”
~ ~ ~
The young girl who was known only as Andi was very protective of her forest. The road that had been cut through the woods was her only concession to modernity. As long as those who traveled the road were just passing through, she left them alone. Otherwise . . .
She took up her horse’s reins and followed the noisy truck closely, annoyed that it was shattering her peaceful existence. At first she had considered running it off the road, but when she saw the captive quartet her blood boiled. The very idea of slavery or captivity was repulsive to her. She watched them gasp desperately for air and snarled involuntarily.
The horse underneath her snorted and tossed his head, as if reinforcing her feeling of disgust. She patted him on the neck reassuringly. “Easy, Shesha. You’ll get your chance soon. Just a few more moments.”
She rode alongside the truck as Vic resumed his position at the back. She pulled out her long bow and nocked an arrow with a round tip to the string. She aimed it at Vic and fired. The knobby end struck him in the temple and he tumbled to the ground.
Andi reined up her horse and swung him out into the road. Either the driver of the vehicle didn’t notice or didn’t think her much of a threat, for the truck continued on its merry way.
She rode quickly, gaining on the slow vehicle. Her horse’s hooves became a blur as she leaped from his back and landed on the truck’s tailgate. She swiftly climbed to the roof of the tank. There were two chains that secured the tank to the truck, and two large pins that kept the tank latched. She cast a quick glance over the edge before pulling the first pin. The vehicle hit a rut, nearly bouncing her over the edge. She regained her balance and crawled to the other side of the tank. The pin there was nearly rusted shut. She inserted her knife and pried it loose. As it gave way there was a tremendous crash as the glass panel tumbled away, and a massive flood of water cascaded onto the ground. Multicolored arms and legs and a few shocked faces flew by as the Monkees were swept out with the water and crashed unceremoniously onto the ground.
Andi leaped from the truck as it ground to a halt. The driver emerged from the cab, gripping a tire iron. Andi drew her antique samurai sword and placed herself between the driver and the four.
The driver stared at her for several moments before dropping the tire iron and retreating. “They don’t pay me enough for this,” he muttered, starting up the truck. It rumbled away without its cargo and disappeared.
Andi turned to face the coughing and sputtering young men. They shook themselves like wet dogs, sending water spraying over the muddy ground.
“You know, I could ask how you four managed to get yourselves into this predicament, but I won’t. I don’t want to know. Are you all right?”
They all nodded, still coughing the last remnants of salt water out of their lungs.
“Good. We have to go before anyone sees you. Whoever that was who captured you might come looking for you.” Her horse came up beside her and she climbed gracefully onto his back.
“Wait a minute!” Davy called, bringing her up short. “We don’t even know who you are!”
“My name is Andi . Now you know. Come on, now. Otherwise I’ll leave and you can fend for yourselves.”
They stared at each other, then shrugged. How could it hurt? She had saved them once already.
Casting a quick glance over their shoulders, they followed her.
~ ~ ~
Several hours later the Monkees were still following their strange young rescuer. They shivered through their wet clothes and struggled to keep their balance on the obstacle course of tree roots and loose brush. In any other situation they might have tried to start a conversation with her, but they were too tired to think about anything else than placing one foot in front of the other.
Andi was not blind to this. They moved like zombies, and were stumbling more and more often. They were going to have to stop soon, danger or no danger.
The path up ahead was blocked by a thick tangle of vines and brush. Andi smiled. They had made it.
“We’re here,” she announced, jumping down from her horse. She pulled the brush aside and beckoned for them to come closer. As they peered through the opening she had made, their eyes widened.
The firm ground underneath them sloped downward to a deep cratered lagoon, complete with a waterfall and a crescent-shaped beach.
“What is this place?” Peter asked, awestruck.
“It’s my home. You’ll be safe. I don’t think that guy is smart enough to find you here.” She started down the slope and they numbly followed. Andi moved quickly and easily, stopping several times to let them catch up.
It didn’t take long to arrive at the beach, and Andi wasted no time, leading them to several small, thatched huts suspended on stilts, hidden underneath an overhang of thick vines and jungle moss. Inside the nearest one were several small beds--worn and ragged, but serviceable. Her companions ignored their wet, briny clothing and disheveled appearances and slumped into the beds gratefully.
“I would ask you if you need anything, but . . . “ Andi began. She stopped when the only replies she got were snores. “I will take that as a no.”
She closed the door behind her and retreated to the central building, her stomach clenched into an uneasy knot. Why had she brought them back with her?
Because they were in trouble.
She darted inside and closed the door, suddenly out of breath. “I need to get them out of here as soon as I can,” she muttered.
For five years she had lived alone, ensconced in her private lagoon, safely shut off from the outside world, and from the pain that world had given her.
You didn’t know you were so lonely until they came . . .
Andi shuddered. “I know I’m lonely,” she whispered to that little voice in her head that was--as near as she could tell--equal parts subconscious and conscience. “But I’m not going to let them in. I said I wasn’t going to get hurt again and I meant it.”
~ ~ ~
The morning sun peeked over the waterfall, sending diamond drops sprinkling down to the pool below. The trees swayed in the gentle morning breeze, and birds sang joyfully as they darted from branch to branch.
Mike awoke with a start, tumbling from his bed onto a hardwood floor with a loud enough grunt to rouse the others, who all woke with startled cries. After shouting at each other for a few moments, they all remembered where they were.
“Hey, where’s that girl?” Davy asked, pulling himself unsteadily to his feet.
“I don’t know,” Mike muttered. “I hope she didn’t split. We really should thank her.”
“Where are we?” Micky groaned, holding his aching head with both hands.
“I don’t know, but we’re gonna find out,” Mike said, staggering to his feet and heading for the door.
They all squinted their eyes in the bright sunlight as they emerged, slowly and wobbly, from the hut. On the sandy beach before them Andi was tending to her dapple gray horse. She looked up at the Monkees as they approached and favored them with a shy smile.
In the bright light of morning, they got a better look at her. She was tall--six feet if she was an inch--and impressively built, broad shouldered and powerful. Her skin was lightly tanned and she wore simple, light clothing--a sleeveless shirt and a pair of ragged cutoffs. Her hair was long and jet-black, matching her eyes, which gazed at them with curiosity and a bit of mild bemusement. Though she was only nineteen, her bearing and manner made her seem much older.
“I didn’t think you were ever going to get up.” Her voice took on a slightly authoritarian tone. “Now, would you mind telling me who you are and how you managed to get yourselves into a porpoise tank?”
“You said you didn’t want to know,” Peter said.
“I changed my mind.”
They introduced themselves and gave a passable explanation as to how and why they had chanced to be passing through her forest. When they were finished Andi didn’t know whether to laugh or collapse in utter disbelief. She did, however, believe them. There was no other possible explanation.
“In any case, I think it would be wise for you to stay here for a while. It wouldn’t do for you to be caught the minute you set foot on the road.”
What are you doing, Andi ? . . .
“Are you sure we’re not imposing?” Mike asked, ever the gentleman.
“Absolutely. There’s plenty of room for the five of us. Besides, I could use some company.”
Wait a minute! You said you were going to get rid of them as soon as possible!
Andi shrugged inwardly. I guess I changed my mind.
Mike looked over his shoulder at his friends. They looked as tired and beaten as he felt. “Guys?”
They shrugged noncommittally. They needed the vacation, and no one wanted to risk running into Vic again.
“I guess that means yes,” Mike said.
“I need a shower,” Micky said, stretching.
Andi turned to the waterfall and pointed. “Shower’s right over there.”
“You’re kidding,” Mike said.
Andi raised an eyebrow. “’Fraid not. Those buildings do not come equipped with indoor plumbing. I’ll go get some blankets and towels, and while you’re washing I’ll scrub that salt water out of your clothing.”
The Monkees didn’t move, still nervously considering the cascading water. Andi smiled and shook her head. “All right, I won’t look. I promise. Now get moving.” True to her word, she covered her eyes and turned around.
They uneasily stripped down to their shorts and waded in. The water was clear and cool, growing slowly warmer as they approached the falls.
The water that plunged down from above was surprisingly warm, heated by the intense sunlight shining down upon it. They scrubbed the salt water from their hair and washed away the last of the previous night’s unpleasantness. They splashed around a little, too, regaining a little of their playfulness now that they were out of danger.
Andi waited on the shore, watching them frolic with an unsuppressed grin. She had to admit, they were infectious, especially the tall one with the Texas accent, who stood slightly apart from the others, apparently content to watch the other three play.
She didn’t know why she had invited them to stay. “Maybe I have been living alone too long,” she muttered to herself.
She left her armload of blankets and towels on the beach in plain sight, and gathered their clothes, amazed at their color and texture. She smiled as she picked up Mike’s hat, which she had persuaded him to remove and leave on the beach. For the first time she looked down at her homespun cloth and was a little . . . ashamed? She shrugged off the feeling as soon as it appeared.
Nearly half an hour later their clothes--scrubbed clean by Andi --hung on a clothesline that ran between two of the buildings. As she tracked her way down to where they were emerging, she was careful to turn her back to respect their privacy.
When they were sufficiently covered she turned around. “Have fun?” she asked.
“Yeah, it was a real hoot,” Mike said, the barest hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice.
Andi stared at him, puzzled. There was something about him that made the skin on the back of her neck tingle. She cleared her throat and looked away quickly. “Well, your clothes are clean, and breakfast is in half an hour.” She waved distractedly at the beach. “Until then, spread out and . . . relax, I guess.” She stole a glance at Mike again, but this time her skin flushed deep red, and this time he noticed.
He pulled the trailing edge of his blanket over his shoulder and followed her as his compatriots stretched out luxuriously on the sand. He found Andi in the largest of her stilt buildings, slicing fruit with a very large knife. She didn’t notice him until he was right behind her, then jumped with a startled cry.
“Oh! It’s you!” she exclaimed, taking several hasty breaths. “Just a word of advice: never sneak up on someone holding a butcher knife.”
Mike backed away, almost as startled as she. “Good point,” he said with a nervous smile. The two stared at each other for several awkward moments.
“So . . . just what was all that back there?” Mike asked.
Andi pretended like she didn’t know what he was talking about. “What was what? I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”
Mike leveled a stern gaze at her. She tried to look away, unsuccessfully. “You know what I’m talking about. Don’t play dumb with me.”
Andi’s mind raced. What am I going to tell him? That for the last hour and a half I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him?
“I have lived here for a long time--alone, I might add. You all are the first visitors I’ve had in a long while, and . . . I’m a little nervous, okay?”
“Uh huh,” Mike said, not the least bit convinced. He decided to leave it be for a while. Eventually he would discover Andi ’s secret.
They ate a simple breakfast of bread, milk, and fruit on Andi ’s small patio, a light breeze blowing across the narrow valley. Andi had a sneaking suspicion that they were trying to kill her: their one objective seemed to be to make her laugh until she choked.
Micky was the class clown, she decided, sizing them up. His jokes and antics were never-ending and slightly corny, but entertaining. Davy was the cute one, and only too happy to join Micky in trying to make her laugh. Peter was shy--he seemed to keep his eyes focused everywhere except on her.
She glanced surreptitiously over the rim of her glass. And Mike is the big brother--or father, He almost reminds me of my father. It didn’t really make sense, but it was nevertheless true. Andi ’s father had been short, blond, and excitable, with a northern British accent that grew more pronounced when he was fired up about something. Mike was tall, dark-haired, and calm, and his Texas drawl sent shivers up Andi ’s spine.
Still, she trusted him the same as she had trusted her father. When Mike was around Andi had a sneaking suspicion that everything was going to turn out all right in the end.
And that is exactly why you can’t fall in love with him or depend on him--you trusted your father and look where it got you, said the omnipresent voice in the back of her mind.
Andi was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice that Mike was staring at her almost as much as she was trying to avoid staring at him.
On to Chapter Two
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