All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [211]
Robert went to the doors that hung askew in their frames and shoved them back (more or less) into place.
Eliot looked over his shoulder. There was a thump as that helicopter passed overhead and faded—then the shadow of a jet flashed across the street and there was a teeth-shaking rumble—followed by three Humvees that rolled by. They didn’t stop.
Eliot sighed and opened his mouth to ask Robert a million questions.
Robert shook his head. He pulled out a gun from the holster in the small of his back. He pointed his eyes and the up and down the lobby.
Eliot nodded, hung back, and slung Lady Dawn over his shoulder . . . fingers just over her strings.
Robert checked one end of the lobby, then came back and motioned Eliot to follow.
Eliot took one last glance outside. He didn’t see any pursuing soldiers.
He and Robert entered an abandoned courtroom. They crept past rows of seats, flags and official seals, and through the curtain behind the raised judge’s bench.
They found an office with walls of legal books. There was a mahogany desk upon which sat a drained bottle with hand-painted gold leaves embellishing a label that proclaimed: TEQUILA.
Robert nodded toward stairs that led up. A second bottle lay on the steps, liquor spilled, smelling smoky and pungent.
Uncle Henry had to be up there, or someone, at least, who had his car. Either way, there were answers, and maybe a way out of sunny, festive Costa Esmeralda.
They climbed up. Robert swept his aim as the stairs angled back and forth.
Two more flights. This reminded Eliot of the obstacle course in gym, and adrenaline surged though his blood and his fingertips lit upon Lady Dawn’s strings. The barest subsonic resonant thrum came in response to his feather touch. The paint on the walls crackled.
Robert looked at him, but said nothing.
They eased along the last steps to a glass door, pausing to let their eyes adjust to the sunlight.
On the other side was a garden of palm trees, cacti, and bromeliads with flowers like fanged mouths. There was a table with shade umbrella, and lounging there with his back to them was Uncle Henry in his white suit (his jacket off) and straw hat, shot glass tilted in his hand, its contents dribbling down his arm.
Robert eased open the door, scanned the garden right to left.
There was no one else there, but he didn’t lower his aim.
Eliot didn’t understand. It was Uncle Henry. He tapped Robert and gave him a What are you doing? look.
Robert shrugged him off and shot back a glare that could have given Fiona a run for her money in the withering-flesh department.
Without turning, Uncle Henry said, “Robert’s quite right to be wary, Eliot. This is a war, after all.” He gave a dramatic wave that sloshed out the remains of the tequila. “Dangerous elements loose in the streets . . .” He reached for the bottle and knocked it over. “Can’t even trust one’s liquor to stand still at such times.”
Robert sighed, clicked on his gun’s safety, and lowered it.
They went to Henry. Eliot plucked up the bottle and set it right.
“You’re drunk,” Robert said.
“I certainly hope so. Otherwise a perfect waste of several bottles of Tequila Casa Noble Extra Anejo.”
Eliot surveyed the city from behind the glass walls. Tanks and Humvees rolled into the city center where he and Robert had stopped. There were more people in the streets, and more soldiers shoving them around, and one thing he hadn’t seen on the far side of the city’s center square: an older section with a cobblestone courtyard and church that looked like it could have been built by the original Spanish missionaries. Dozens of people streamed toward the church, taking shelter within—scared people, crying people, children, and women carrying bundled babies.
Eliot set a hand on the glass, wanting to help them.
“You said this was going to be a party . . . ,” Robert told Henry, stabbing at him with a finger.
“Did I?” Henry crinkled his brow. “Oh, perhaps I did at that.” He frowned. “Really, Robert, you know better than to take me literally. This is more of a wake for a friend, actually.