Andi raced after the wagon, fiercely determined not to let it out of her sight. It was, however, moving much quicker than the porpoise tank had been. Shesha was a healthy young horse, though, and easily caught up with the vehicle.
Andi pulled out a small hatchet and took careful aim at the latch on the wagon’s rear door. She hoped none of them were leaning against it. With an angry shout she hurled it with all her might. It sliced through the air and severed the latch, burying itself deeply into the faded red wood.
“Guys!” she hollered sharply. The door swung open, and four shocked--but wonderfully familiar--faces peered out.
Gripping his mane tightly with one hand, Andi guided Shesha closer to the wagon and reached out to Peter, who was closest to the edge.
“Peter! Take my hand!”
Peter’s eyes went wide and he shook his head vehemently, but the look on Andi’s face was so intense and imperious that he found himself reaching out to her. Her fingers found his, and she pulled him onto Shesha’s withers with strength born of fear and a massive dose of adrenalin. She wrapped her left arm around his shoulders and brought Shesha to a grinding halt.
“Go and hide,” she said breathlessly, releasing him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with the others.” With no further words of comfort or reassurance, she dashed off once more. Peter did as he was told and obediently disappeared into the dense foliage.
~ ~ ~
Andi echoed her feat with Micky and Davy, who vanished as soon as they hit the ground. She took off after Mike, easily catching up to the wagon. By this time the driver had probably noticed that his cargo was disappearing, but didn’t seem to care.
Mike was gripping the doorframe nervously, watching as Andi raced up beside him.
“Okay, Mike, your turn!” she shouted. Mike took a deep breath and croutched down, reaching out with his right arm. Shesha was tiring, but somehow Andi coaxed a last burst of speed from him and grabbed Mike’s wrist. At the last second Mike pushed off from the edge and landed on Shesha’s withers--hard. The air left his lungs in a woosh and he felt his tenuous grip on Shesha’s mane begin to slip. Andi grabbed him by the belt and pulled him further up, balancing him as she once again brought her horse to a stop.
For a few seconds neither of them moved, expecting the driver to stop and get out--perhaps wielding a gun. But the driver had apparently decided to cut his losses, for he kept going. Andi waited until the wagon had disappeared from view before she eased Mike to the ground. He dropped to his hands and knees, gasping for breath.
There was a slight rustle from above as Andi dropped down beside him.
“Mike? Are you all right?” It was a few moments before he could respond.
“Yeah . . . I guess . . . so.” He looked up at her, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “Man, I am glad to see you.”
Her eyes instantly filled with tears. “Me too. I thought . . . I thought I lost you.” Her hands turned to claws and dug themselves into the dirt.
“Hey, Andi, it’s okay. I’m still here, in one piece.” He looked down at his arm. “Well, sort of.”
She laughed and pulled him into her arms. After a few moments he gently pulled away.
“There’s plenty of time for that later,” he said, a small, enigmatic smile on his face. “C’mon. We’d better go get the others before they start getting any ideas.”
~ ~ ~
They found Micky and Davy exactly where Andi had dropped them, dirty but none the worse for wear. As they tracked their way back to where she had left Peter, she heard distant but unmistakable cries for help.
“Peter . . . ” she breathed. There was the soft whisper of steel as she withdrew her sword. “Mike, get down and stay here.”
Though normally he would be inclined to argue, Mike slid off Shesha’s back and stood next to Micky and Davy, who exchanged mystified looks.
“I’ll be right back,” she said grimly, charging off into the trees.
~ ~ ~
Peter had indeed hidden himself exactly as Andi had told him to, but neither of them had reckoned on one of Vic’s men following them. He had waited, his scared, shallow breathing giving him away; then he had run, panicking, the man’s footsteps following closely behind. He was now backed up against a tree, feeling the rough bark digging into his shoulder blades. The man was taking his time, moving with the slow confidence of a predator who knows his prey is trapped.
~ ~ ~
Andi took in the whole scene in a matter of seconds. She charged forward, snapping off a long tree branch. She hurled it with all the force of her anger, and it sank into the ground inches from Peter’s attacker. While the man was momentarily distracted, she brought the flat of her sword down upon his head, knocking him unconscious.
She dropped to the ground even before Shesha had stopped and ran over to Peter. His arms and face were bleeding, scratched from his panicked run through several thornbushes. He was still backed up against the tree, his breathing rapid and panicked, his soft brown eyes wide.
“Peter?” Those wild eyes stared at her, uncomprehending. “Peter, it’s okay. It’s over.” She reached out to him, as if touching him would instantly bring about the end of the nightmare, but he shrank away, eyeing her armor fearfully.
Andi tore off her armor, her fingers fumbling on the straps and buckles. As each piece came away, she hurled it into the trees, until the last vestiges of her warrior appearance were all but gone.
“It’s okay. It’s over,” she repeated.
“Are you sure?” he asked in a tiny voice. Tears appeared in his eyes.
“Positive. They won’t be hurting you any more.” Her heart ached with sympathy for him.
He breathed what might have been a sigh of relief, then put his face in his hands and shook with silent sobs.
The last remnants of Andi’s resolve crumbled. She put her arms around his shoulders and held him gently, her words soothing.
“Easy, Peter. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you ever again. Not while I’m alive.”
He pulled away from her. “Do you mean it?”
Do you?
“Yes, I do.” She wiped the tears from his cheeks and took his hand. “Come on. The others are worried about you.”
~ ~ ~
The reunion was brief but emotional. Andi helped Peter and Mike up onto Shesha’s back, and they slowly made their way back to the clearing.
The remains of Vic’s camp were a smouldering mess. His men had all fled. Vic himself was nowhere to be found. She knew that they would never see him again.
“Well, that takes care of that,” Andi said grimly, bringing over two of the horses that had apparently been abandoned by the fleeing men. Davy climbed up on one, Peter and Micky on the other, and Andi crawled wearily onto Shesha’s back behind Mike.
“Here,” she sighed, handing Mike the reins. “You take over. I’m tired.” She rested her head on his back and closed her eyes, willing the night to be over.
~ ~ ~
Several hours later the five were gathered in the main room. No one had found a reason to argue with Peter’s assertion that they should stay together, so the Monkees moved the matresses from their shattered room to the main room. They went outside and cleaned themselves off, changing into some clothes that Andi dug out of one of her storage rooms.
The spartan nature of the main room meant that cleaning up took very little time, and within a hour she sat at her table, carefully cleaning and dressing the cut on Mike’s arm, then taking care of Peter’s scratches.
When everything was finally finished she collapsed on her couch, more tired and yet more satisfied than she had ever been in her life.
“Hey, Andi,” Micky said. “Thanks for comin’ to get us.”
Andi smiled tiredly. “You’re welcome, Micky. It was least I could do for my friends.”
“You know, we’re going to have to go home soon,” Mike said, voicing the words Andi had been dreading.
“I know,” she said. “While I was in town yesterday I called a cab company. There will be a car waiting on the road tomorrow at eleven.”
Mike raised his eyebrows in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to be so cooperative. “You tryin’ to get rid of us now?”
“No. But you have lives you have to get back to. One can only be a beachcomber for so long.”
“Will we ever see you again?” Peter asked.
“Oh, yes. There’s no doubt about that.”
“You know what?” he said, propping his head on his hands. “You were wrong.”
Andi looked at him archly. “Wrong about what?”
“Your parents weren’t the only friends you ever had. You have us now.” Davy and Micky and Mike all nodded their agreement, and Andi felt her cheeks burn with equal parts joy and embarrassment. Her vocal cords refused to work, so all she could manage was a smile.
After the others fell asleep Andi and Mike sat together, watching the light from the oil lamps grow more and more dim.
“Did you mean what you said?” Mike asked quietly.
“About what?”
“About seeing us again. Did you mean it?”
“Of course. I plan to be a regular visitor at Casa de Monkees. Will you wait for me?” It was the question that had been stubbornly stuck in the back of her head since he had kissed her: would he go back home and find someone else to be with?
He lifted her chin. “You even need to ask?”
“Oh, I knew there was a reason I fell for you,” she said, pulling the blanket a little more snugly around them. She fell asleep in his arms, warm and safe and, most importantly, content.
~ ~ ~
But by the next morning it was time for farewells. Andi watched the taxi pull up with a heavy heart. Micky and Davy each embraced her before piling into the car, and Peter gave her one of his wide, dimpled grins as he kissed her lightly on the cheek.
Finally it was time to say goodbye to Mike. She pushed the tears away and tried to be brave even as she felt her heart breaking.
“Well, Mike, take care of yourself, and them.”
He took a piece of paper from his pocket and slipped it into her hand. “That’s our address. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t,” she managed to choke out. “Now get out of here before I start bawling.”
Mike paused, then leaned over to kiss her. She closed her eyes, willing the moment to last forever, but then it was over and Mike was crawling into the car next to the driver. With a final wave they disappeared around the bend, and Andi was alone once more.
“I won’t be for long, though,” she said, looking down at the paper and the promise it held.
AND SO THE TALE ENDS, BUT THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING . . .
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