Title: Never Let Go
Rated : PG
Synopsis: Zorro is presumed dead. Diego is missing and Felipe must complete one final task before putting Zorro to a final rest: Deliver two letters that Diego had written in the event of his death.
Misc Notes: This story takes place a few months after the series finale 'A Conspiracy of Blood'
Written: 6/05
Disclaimer: This story was written solely for the enjoyment of other Zorro fans and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights held by Goodman/Rosen Productions, New World Television, Zorro Productions, the estate of Johnston McCulley or anyone else.
Never Let Go
Gunshots whizzed past his head as Toronado galloped ahead of the lancers struggling to keep up with the stallion's fast gait.
Once again, de Soto thought he had a chance to catch the masked man. And the romantic fool's desire to see his tavern wench had provided just the right opportunity. He'd waited months to catch the masked fiend visiting his lady, and today was finally the day.
They had chased him from the pueblo into areas they'd never before traveled but the masked man still retained his customary lead. Zorro could see a ravine approaching and urged Toronado on with a gentle squeeze of his thighs. They'd made this jump many times before and he hoped no lancers would make the attempt to cross the dangerous precipice.
Lancers aimed unsteadily at the black-clad man and fired pistols primed prior to the chase. De Soto had insured they were armed with multiple pistols giving them more chances to take down the fleeing man. He'd given them accuracy lessons and fervently prayed they were not forgotten as the time drew near to call on the recent training.
De Soto cheered with glee when the masked man jerked sharply to one side as if he'd been shot.
"Good shot, man! Keep after him! Shoot that horse!"
Zorro grasped his left leg in pain as further shots flew dangerously close to Toronado. The stallion could feel a musket ball sail past his ear that only caused the horse to run faster. Toronado could feel his rider flinch and shift unsteadily in the saddle but the horses' instinct for self-preservation motivated him to keep his quick gait.
Another shot struck the masked man's right shoulder and he cried out in momentary pain, further startling his stallion. Zorro's eyes glazed with pain and he fought the urge to slump in the saddle. But his equilibrium shifted as Toronado navigated the rocky plain, and he slid from the saddle with a loud groan.
De Soto urged his men on with a triumphant cry when they noticed the masked man slide from the saddle, dangling precariously on the side of his large black steed.
Zorro's left ankle twisted sharply in the stirrup and tears pricked the corner of his eyes. He could hear the bones snap and cried out as he wrapped Toronado's reins tightly around his wrist to slow his descent to the ground.
The wind was momentarily knocked out of the masked man as his back impacted with the hard ground His ankle caught in the stirrup, he was dragged unceremoniously beside Toronado who still ran as instinct propelled him toward self-preservation.
The masked man knew he had seconds before they reached the ravine. Ignoring the pain in his battered body, Zorro unsheathed his sword and sliced upwards, catching the reins as closely to Toronado's neck as possible and the chest harness holding the saddle in place. He knew he couldn't just release the reins as they would impede the stallion's jump as well as his ability to run. And he needed to free the saddle or his own weight would drag the stallion down into the ravine with him. Toronado shook his head and snorted as the blade made a shallow cut in his neck.
Zorro's eyes clouded with pain but he knew this was the only way to save his trusted mount. Gun shots echoed behind him frightening the horse and he bolted just as any would do when so threatened. Toronado moved too swiftly for Zorro to have any hope of cutting himself free before reaching the ravine. Adrenaline propelled Zorro to move swiftly, despite the pain.
Toronado set his hind legs and jumped just as Zorro's blade sliced through the cinch holding the saddle in place. Once Zorro's dead weight was released, the stallion made the leap over the ravine with ease. The forward momentum caused the saddle to slide off the horse and its weight dragged Zorro's body into the ravine below.
Zorro clawed at the dirt, the rocks, anything to slow his downward fall but the weight attached to his already injured leg was too much for his battered body to bear. His sword gone, Zorro didn't have the time to reach for his knife and cut the stirrup. He struck the water with a loud splash.
The rapidly moving water assailed Zorro's battered body mercilessly as the weight of the saddle dragged him beneath its clear surface. He coughed and sputtered sucking in a huge gasp of air moments before his head disappeared beneath the water.
His sword had slipped from his hand and he ignored the sharp pain in his wrist as he reached behind him to draw his knife from its sheath. If he didn't do something quickly, he was going to drown. Adrenaline numbed the pain as he deftly sliced the leather tethering him to the saddle.
The air in his lungs gone, Zorro's head burst from the water and he inhaled sharply, his chest heaving with breath once again.
He struggled against the swift rapids, made even stronger by recent winter rains, but found himself unable to do anything but keep his head above the water. His battered body was carried swiftly downstream and he was powerless to stop it.
De Soto stood at the edge of the ravine, a wide smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "At last!" he cried. "The great Zorro has met his end!"
Mendoza dismounted his horse and reverently picked up Zorro's sombrero, staring at it in disbelief. "He's really gone." He said sadly, unable to gaze away from the item clutched tightly in his hand.
"Yes! Finally!" de Soto cried. He snatched the sombrero out of the Sergeant's hands and gripped it tightly. "Get a search party down there immediately. I want the body!"
Mendoza stared at the alcalde for a brief moment, weighing his options. He didn't really want to follow that order. A stern look from de Soto hastened his steps and soon he was mounted and searching for a way into the ravine.
Felipe was helping Alejandro unload a cart full of wine and fruit when he noticed the familiar black form appear in the distance. The mute glanced around for Alejandro, but the man had already stepped into the hacienda with an armful of wine bottles.
As Toronado galloped closer, Felipe's eyes narrowed in concern. Something was wrong. Where was Zorro? The stallion's normal proud gait was noticeably slower and the large horse was limping. As the horse came closer, Felipe noticed that he was covered in lather and panting raggedly.
Felipe gasped in shock and despair at the sight the sweat-soaked stallion's sudden, rider-less appearance presented.
Toronado came to a stop right in front of Felipe and nudged the boy's suddenly shaking hands. His reins were sliced very close to his neck and a shallow gash ran the length of it. There was a much deeper cut along his side, and he was without a saddle.
Alejandro watched slack-jawed as Zorro's proud stallion stopped nose to nose with his young servant. The ranchero jumped off the steps and joined the young boy, who looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.
Toronado snorted and pawed the ground anxiously at Alejandro's approach. Alejandro glanced at the apple he'd snatched off the kitchen table on the way back from delivering the wine bottles to the cellar.
"Easy, Toronado. It's all right, boy. I won't harm you. Easy." Alejandro soothed, offering the half-eaten piece of fruit to the stallion.
The horse sniffed the fruit before plucking it hungrily from Alejandro's hand. The ranchero calmly rubbed his fingers over the stallion's nose, hoping the well-trained horse would understand the friendly gesture.
After a few tense moments, Alejandro was permitted to brush his hands over the dark, sweaty coat.
"Felipe, go fetch some warm water and alcohol so that we can clean these cuts." Alejandro's long-practiced instincts kicked in but Felipe hesitated, drawing a questioning gaze from his patron.
"Felipe! Go now. Quickly!"
After another brief moment of hesitation, the boy rushed into the hacienda to complete his task.
Alejandro whispered quietly to the horse upon noticing the large animal's growing agitation when Felipe left. Shelving that odd occurrence for examination later, he calmly stroked the stallion's nose.
"Where's your Master, boy? Hmm?" Alejandro asked gently trying not to sound as afraid as he felt. He had a bad feeling about this. A rider-less Toronado could only mean one thing and Alejandro didn't want to examine that possibility too closely.
"It's all right, boy. We'll take care of you. You're safe here." Alejandro gently rubbed the stallion's nose and the horse sniffed deeply of the man's almost familiar scent.
"Don't worry. Be calm." Alejandro rubbed the horse's eyes in a comforting gesture. The stallion pushed hard against his hand, which gave the ranchero some measure of hope.
When Felipe returned, Alejandro marveled at the stallion's tolerance. The mute's hands brushed carefully at the bloodied gash on the stallion's side before moving up to the long neck to tend to the shallower wound.
"The cinch was cut," Alejandro said, looking at the position of the deep gash on the stallion's left side. "And so were the reins and the chest harness." Alejandro shook his head, staring at the longer, but shallower cut along the stallion's long, proud neck. "Dios, what's happened?" He rested his hand on Felipe's shoulder. "Let's get him into the barn. We can't let him be seen here."
Without more than an acknowledging nod, Felipe gripped what was left of the reins and led Toronado toward the barn.
Why had Toronado come to the hacienda? As years of experience had taught him, Alejandro knew that a frightened and injured horse would go to the one place he knew – home. And why had the stallion nuzzled Felipe as if the boy had known him?
Alejandro stared after the boy with an oddly curious expression before following. He'd ask Felipe later. Right now, Toronado's health was more important.
De Soto grinned with glee as he watched the soldiers pull the familiar sword from the leafless tree-stump. Apparently, it had fallen from Zorro's grasp and stuck into the first object it had come into contact with.
"We've got it, Alcalde!" Mendoza held the blade with a sad remembrance as he walked over to where de Soto waited.
"Excellent!" de Soto plucked it from Mendoza's grasp and held it aloft with childish glee. "This will hang in my office as a reminder to any who may think about following in that masked fiend's footsteps."
Mendoza nodded sadly, unable to share his commander's enthusiasm.
"Continue on, Mendoza. I want that body!"
"Si, Alcalde." Mendoza said, the usual desire to please absent from his voice.
"Make sure those ties are secure, Felipe." Alejandro advised as Toronado was led into a large, vacant stall.
Felipe cast a longing look toward the opposite end of the barn and was surprised when Esperanza's head lifted from her feeding trough to watch him.
Tying Toronado firmly, Felipe rushed into the tack room and searched frantically for the rag Diego had used this morning to rube down Esperanza. The familiar scent of his master would hopefully calm the large stallion.
Felipe returned moments later with his rag and a few other items Diego routinely used when tacking his mare.
Alejandro expertly cleaned and medicated the stallion's injuries while Felipe rubbed down and brushed the sweat-soaked beast.
When Felipe removed what was left of the bridal, the stallion attempted to rear. The ties prevented much movement but Alejandro and Felipe pressed themselves against the wall anyway.
After a few tense moments, Alejandro caught Felipe's eyes over the stallion's broad back. He glanced down at the damaged tack and to the cleaned and bandaged cuts along the stallions left neck and side.
"Something's happened to Zorro, Felipe," Alejandro finally gave voice to the fear that had welled in his heart from the moment he'd seen Zorro's stallion. "He would never allow his horse to be injured like this."
"You must cover his tracks." Alejandro said suddenly. "The alcalde will be eager to find Zorro's horse. "
"Go now, I will make up some kind of disguise so that Toronado won't be recognized if de Soto comes across any tracks that lead him here."
Felipe nodded, his eyes betraying the fear he'd struggled to keep hidden. But the fearful beat of his heart increased with each passing moment.
They found the battered silver-gilt saddle lying on the rocky bank miles down the rapidly moving river.
De Soto cooed with glee. "Ahh, I shall mount this in the plaza as a memorial to our town legend."
"Alcalde?" Mendoza couldn't even bring himself to look at the saddle.
"What is it, Mendoza?"
"It will be dark soon and we're very far from the pueblo." Mendoza wanted to go home. He didn't want to find Zorro's body. He just wanted this day to end.
De Soto glanced up at the darkening sky. "So it is. We are several hours ride from the pueblo as it is. We'll go back and return at first light."
When de Soto strutted proudly into the tavern, Victoria frowned. It was a rare day when she saw him so - happy. He looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, she thought with disgust as he stopped at the bar and ordered a round of drinks for everyone.
"Well, that's very generous," Victoria commented dryly. "Institute a new tax today?"
"Better!" He regarded her with a smile that stretched into his eyes. " Zorro is dead!"
Victoria set the bottle of wine onto the counter with a soft chuckle of disbelief. "You've made that mistake before."
De Soto smirked and lifted Zorro's famous blade onto the bar. "Here is my proof, though I hardly believe I will need to provide any more when we retrieve the body tomorrow."
"If the coyote's haven't gotten to it first," Mendoza added sadly.
"Oh, Mendoza, don't sound so sad. "De Soto rested a hand on his shoulder. "We've put an end to that masked menace once and for all. You should be proud to have been there to witness such a monumental event!"
Victoria stared at the well-known blade in disbelief. That was Zorro's all right. Blood stained its toledo steel tip and a breathless, "no," slipped from her lips before she could stop it.
"Oh yes." De Soto confirmed with a wide smile. "We witnessed his fall ourselves, didn't we Sergeant?"
"Si, Alcalde." Mendoza buried his sorrow in his tamale.
"Fall?" Victoria asked, her voice a strangled whisper.
"Oh yes, he plummeted to a very hard, painful death."
"Si, Alcalde!" Corporal Sepulveda joined the conversation and eagerly recounted everything that had happened during their chase.
Victoria's heart was in her throat as the Corporal excitedly told how Zorro had lost his seat after being struck by multiple musket balls and had been dragged behind his precious stallion.
"Toronado wouldn't have done that," Victoria snapped, grasping at any plausible reason to discredit the alcalde's story. "He wouldn't cause Zorro harm."
"He would if he feared for his life, Señorita." De Soto laughed at her attempt to deny his claims. "He is, after all, only a horse and its top concern is self-preservation - even with the strictest training."
"Oh si, our shots spooked him good!" Sepulveda said with a wide smile. "He was still running even when that saddle came off in mid-jump!"
Victoria leaned against the bar, suddenly feeling faint. Alejandro and Diego were horsemen, they would be able to assure her that what had happened just simply couldn't be possible. She would go see them as soon as she closed the tavern.
De Soto smiled and placed his hand over Victoria's in a mock gesture of concern. "You don't look so well. Perhaps you should go lie down."
"I'm fine." She hissed through gritted teeth.
De Soto smirked and turned to address the gathering crowd. "I will mount the saddle in the plaza tomorrow as a . . . memorial to our fallen hero."
"He's not dead." Victoria whispered, staring at the sword that lay atop her bar. "I won't believe it."
De Soto laughed. "You continue to live in your fantasy if you wish, señorita. I witnessed his death with my very own eyes. It was quite a sight."
"I hope you spend all of your spare time in confession with such hateful words." Victoria spat, angry tears beginning to well in her eyes.
De Soto cocked his head and leaned close. "Not very much at all, I'm afraid. But, I didn't come here just to gloat over my spectacular victory today!"
"You could have fooled me."
De Soto leaned against the bar and gave Victoria a knowing grin and a wink. "I must pay you the most deserving of compliments, señorita Escalante."
Victoria's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and you could have heard a pin drop in the tavern as everyone waited to see what this compliment could possibly be.
"Keep them to yours-" Victoria began but De Soto cut her off by shouting loudly, "For being such attractive bait!"
Victoria's heart plummeted into her stomach. He was right. She was the reason Zorro was in town today; the only reason. A great sob shook her body and she quickly retreated into the solitude of the kitchen.
Consciousness slowly returned only to be replaced by a pain so great, Zorro wished he were still unconscious. His arm was painfully wrenched over the branch of a nearby, partially submerged tree while coo,l white water stung the man's bare skin.
He groaned and tried to pull himself out of the water but there was no strength left in his well-muscled frame. He slumped against the tree, silently wishing unconsciousness would grip his mind once again and stop the pain. But he knew that he needed to stay awake. He knew the kinds of injuries he must have sustained would very quickly kill him if he weren't careful.
His arm was badly twisted and he couldn't move his wrist without a sharp stab of pain. He deduced quickly that it was badly broken. When he tried to move his leg, the one he remembered having been caught in Toronado's stirrup, he groaned loudly, closing his eyes against the nearly unbearable pain. That leg was broken, too.
Zorro groaned, unable to keep the tears of pain from stinging his eyes. He was badly hurt, he was numb, and he didn't have the strength to lift his head much less his entire body.
He closed his eyes as the branch began to crack, loosened by his attempts to crawl out of the water. He was too heavy and the branch couldn't sustain his weight. He tried once again to pull himself onto the rocky shore but his muscles refused to obey his commands. He slumped weakly as the branch finally broke, buoying his head above the water as the white rapids carried his body further west.
His last thoughts before darkness crept over his mind once again were of Victoria and the promise he'd made to her that he feared he would not be able to keep.
TBC