DOUBLE ZZs

By Peggy

This was the closest they had come to an argument, and neither of them were happy about it.

"Why do you have to go out tonight? There's a bad storm coming in," Elena pleaded.

"I can't let these things go on any longer than I have to. You know that. The people are losing faith in El Zorro because the bad things that are happening are being blamed on him. Worse things could happen tonight, and I have to find out as much as I can as soon as I can."

"What will the people do if you get hurt or killed?"

"Do you think I would let someone take me way from you, Querida?"

"No, but you might not have a choice in the matter, and these men are dangerous," she pouted.

Alejandro put his arms around her and pulled her close. "Try not to worry…haven't I always come home to you? Our love will protect me, you'll see. It's stronger than anything they can do. You know I have to stop them!"

Placing a finger gently under her chin, Alejandro lifted her mouth to his, nipping, tasting, teasing, and tormenting until the look of fear left her eyes and was replaced by one of desire. "That's more like it, my sweet! Be waiting for me…never fear, I'll be back!"

With that, he walked out of the house, mounted Tornado, and rode off…a black specter that vanished into the shadows of the night.

Clouds were boiling overhead. Shades of gray to near black were swirling and cascading over and through each other in the dim light from the cloud-covered moon. Bold slashes of white-hot lightning stood out brilliantly against the murkiness of the stormy evening sky. The violent crack of thunder shook the air and the ground beneath their feet, as the shadowy figure huddled atop the huge black horse. Temptation to find shelter from the rainy onslaught was primary in his thoughts as he peered through the blackness between the lightning strikes. The reality of the situation he was in defied the temptation. He knew this was exactly the kind of night the murderers needed to carry out their foul deeds.

Over the past fortnight, many different events had happened resulting in destruction of homes, property, livestock, and even human life…in the case of his old friend, Don Amelio. Amelio had heard the gunfire in the field behind his hacienda. Taking his rifle from the wall by the door, he had gone into the night to protect his cattle, which were being slaughtered one by one. He didn't have a chance! He was not able to see them clearly and they gunned him down, leaving him where he fell, his lifeblood draining into the soil he had tended and cared for his entire adult life. After their slaughter was finished, the brigands set fire to the hacienda and the outbuildings, sending Don Amelio's hired hands scattering into the trees and brush to escape. Fortunately, Doña Ana and the children were away visiting her parents, but there was nothing now for her to come home to.

That was the worst, but not the only atrocity that had been committed by these outlaws. There didn't seem to be any purpose behind it other than sheer destruction. The cattle were left in the fields to rot. The homes were not robbed, only burned, displacing many families who now had only what shelter they could throw together.

The one piece of evidence that tied all of these events together was the biggest puzzle of all. The hides of the dead animals had been slashed with a sword, forming the letter "Z". At every place of destruction and mayhem, this same calling card had been left. The people were beginning to think that their masked hero, whom they had always looked up to for protection and care, had turned against them.

So, here he was, another night of endless riding to see if he could determine who they were, and where they would strike next. Twice he had arrived at the scene, only to be just a few minutes too late. Since he had told no one of his attempts to thwart their evil plans, he couldn't understand why they were always two steps ahead of him. In spite of his all-night rides, he had deliberately resisted sleeping during the daytime, other than short catnaps, so he wouldn't be missed.

How long, he wondered, before they hit my hacienda? His vaqueros had taken it upon themselves to plan defenses in order to be prepared in case of a raid, but no one knew how effective their efforts would be. I don't even know how many of them there are.

Tornado jumped as another lightning bolt struck a tree about 100 yards away from them. The horrendous reverberation of the accompanying thunder and resulting crackle of tree branches breaking away and falling to the ground unsettled both man and horse. Pulling leather to remain in the saddle, he caught a slight movement in his peripheral vision as the brilliance of the lightning faded again to black. It was only for a split second, but something was there.

Leaning forward, he whispered to Tornado, "Quiet, Amigo, let's go see." Pulling his black, now soggy cape around them, they blended into the blackness of the stormy night, vaguely aware that the rain had stopped and tiny slivers of moonlight were peeping through the softly parting clouds and allowing small rays of light to glint through to the ground below.

Moving into a stand of cedar trees, he left Tornado and crept forward on foot. Within a few feet of them, he heard voices.

"Pedro, you're loco! I thought you told us no one would be watching the Sanchez homestead. You said they had all gone into town."

A whiny voice answered from the darkness, "Well, how was I supposed to know their plans would change at the last minute?"

"You could have ruined everything! That vaquero might have seen Jose's face. Now we'll have to get rid of him fast, before he identifies us. Get the rest of the horses in here."

Again the whiny voice, "Ahhhh, Zeb, he would have thought it was Zorro, isn't that what you want anyway?"

"You're even more loco that I thought, Pedro, do you think Zorro would allow himself to be seen doing what we have been doing? We have to be very careful until we rob the bank. Then while they are looking for Zorro, we'll be long gone!"

Zeb must be a white guy, he doesn't have an accent. Listening from the trees, Zorro nodded his head. So that's what their plan is! No wonder they don't rob these places, they're building a reputation to blame on me. Their ultimate goal is to rob the bank, leave me as their scapegoat, and head out of here with all the money.

The sounds of a galloping horse approaching broke off the bickering. A dark figure on an equally dark horse rode swiftly up to the two men. As he approached, he was silhouetted against the horizon. Even though the moonlight was still dimmed by scattered clouds, Zorro could see the dark, flowing cape. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he was looking at himself. The man was similar to Zorro's height and build, but nothing else about him was discernible in the blackness of the night.

"Jose," one of the men called, "where have you been? We've been waiting for you for over an hour."

"Ah, shaddup! If you hadn't screwed up, I wouldn't have had to lead them on a wild goose chase to get away. I couldn't let them think anyone else was involved besides Zorro. He has to get the blame for all of it!"

"We have to get that vaquero before he can talk. Mount up!" Zeb ordered.

Zorro moved quickly and silently back to where he had left Tornado. Mounting he turned toward the timberline where he could follow the men without being seen or heard. As soon as they got close to the Sanchez hacienda, he would get ahead of them and set his trap.

Being familiar with the territory, Zorro was able to take a few shortcuts while still keeping the three criminals in sight. He arrived at the Sanchez rancho in plenty of time to put his plans into motion. He wished he could recruit help from the vaquero they searched for. That way he could protect him, but, no, he would have to work alone. Those men had made sure that Zorro was thought to be a traitor. Anyone seeing him would probably shoot first, and ask questions later.

This rope should do the trick, he thought as he pulled it from the wall of a shed. Quickly, he strung the rope between trees across the road that approached the entrance of the house. One length was stretched across at a height just below the knee and the other high enough that the shoulders of the men would hit the rope as they rode in. They wouldn't see the ropes in the dark and if all went as he thought it would, it would give him the advantage. When he finished the front roadway, he quickly did the back entrance also.

Loosely coiling another rope, he sat back in the shadows and waited for the three outlaws to arrive.

"Here they come, amigo, are you ready? If you're in the mood, you might help me a bit with these guys," he whispered to Tornado. The big horse turned his head around and looked at Zorro with one eye…letting him guess what his meaning was, then tossed his head.

Suddenly the three burst through the trees onto the roadway. The evil Zorro was in front and hit the ropes first. His horse stumbled as his feet hit the ropes and the top rope caught the rider across his throat. As the man was tipped backward, he pulled back on the bridle causing the horse to rear and fall sideways, trapping the man's leg beneath him. The man screamed in agony as he heard the thigh bone snap in his right leg, which was now pinned beneath the thrashing horse. Zeb heard the commotion and slowed, but his horse reared with fright and he toppled off. He was unhurt and started to run. Pedro was the last to approach the ropes and was able to stop in time.

Dismounting from Tornado, Zorro snaked his whip out to pull the third man from his horse, then he ran after the one who was trying to get away. He had no trouble catching the man, who wasn't in good physical condition. With a sword pointed in the middle of his back, the man walked willingly back to the roadway.

The clouds parted and a stream of moonlight allowed a pretty good view of the scene. Zorro suddenly burst out laughing as he saw Tornado standing over the whiny man who had been trussed up by the whip. He had tried to get away, but Tornado had him on his back, shaking in his boots, as the horse held one foot lightly on the man's chest.

After splinting the broken leg, he tied the men to their horses and led them to the door of the Church. With a quick explanation to the Padre as to who the men were, why Jose was dressed as Zorro, and what they had been doing, Zorro asked the Father to deliver the men to the Comandante.

Wheeling Tornado around, he swiftly rode away from town, into the darkness, and back to his beloved Elena. After a hard night's work, he could use a little tender loving care.

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