Chapter 1
�I won�t let you go,� he heaved, wrapping his fingers around the boy�s forearm, as the heavy rain lashed down on them from the black unwelcoming sky�.
***
�It was a simple task �it was supposed to be. Countless times before he had crept into the cuartel to snatch the wrongfully imprisoned victim right from under the guards� noses. Carlito�s case seemed no different. A thirteen-year-old orphan boy apparently thought it an exquisite joke to throw a small rock at the rear end of the commandante�s horse, as it passed by him. In all honesty, the incredible somersault that the commandante performed in the air before landing face down into the muddy puddle, as his horse reared unexpectedly, amused everyone who happened to witness it � except, of course, the commandante. The latter emerged from the puddle, wiping the dirt off his face and cursing like a madman and calling up his soldiers. They rushed out at the sound of his screams, and, a few seconds later, the frightened and confused little �troublemaker� was shoved inside the cuatel gates.
***
�Hanging him?� Diego stared at the fuming commandante, unable to believe his own ears. �I understand that the boy�s prank may deserve a punishment, but � a hanging? Is not that a bit extreme?�
�I will tell you what is extreme, se�or de la Vega,� the red-faced militant hissed menacingly at the young man, �it is having a commandante, a loyal soldier of the King, humiliated in front of the whole town! Laughed at! That is extreme! This prank, as you called it, is nothing short of a grave military offense � punishable by death.�
�But, commandante��
�That will be ALL, de la Vega!� the capit�n roared in the face of young caballero, causing the latter to pull back an inch to avoid choking from the man�s foul breath.
A grimy smirk on capit�n�s face, however, indicated that Diego�s movement was interpreted as nothing more than a sign of fear, intimidation. Anger flared up in the usually calm hazel eyes at this realization. Every muscle in his body became tense with desire to wipe that ugly smirk off the commandante�s face. But he could not help Carlito this way. It would probably only make it worse � if that were possible. So, instead, he turned on his heels and, without saying another word, walked out of the cuartel, concentrating all of his willpower on keeping his outward calm. And only someone very attentive could see, by looking into his eyes, what kind of tempest raged underneath his cool exterior.
�Tonight,� he thought, trying to reassure himself, �I will end this. Just wait for the night.�
***
And so the night came, and the darkness descended over the pueblo. But the darkness did not come alone. The black clouds that began to thicken ominously in the sky since late afternoon have suddenly erupted with a violent torrent of rain. Water poured down from the pitch-black heaven, turning the normally solid roads into a slippery slush. Sharp blades of lightning cut through the ravaged firmament, already shaken up by the violent peals of thunder. It seemed as though the elements themselves were against Zorro�s rescue attempt that night. The soldiers, unable to sleep in the midst of a raging storm, were just a bit more alert than the outlaw needed them to be. He was detected just as he was helping Carlito to get on Tornado�s back behind him. The stallion charged forward, away from the cuartel gates, but the slippery ground made it impossible for him to pick up the speed fast enough.
The soldiers� bullets whizzed by, and Zorro winced, as the ball hit his arm just below the shoulder, nearly throwing him off balance. The outlaw cursed under his breath, taking a tighter grip on the reins.
�Are you all right, Carlito?� he yelled over the wind and the rain, urging the ebony stallion forward.
�Si, se�or Zorro,� came a weak terrified voice, and Zorro smiled softly to himself, feeling the boy wrap his little hands tighter around his waist, clinging closer to him.
The soldiers fell far behind them, and it seemed that the worst was behind them as well. They were in the clear. And then � the unthinkable happened.
A deep crevice lay on their way. Tornado leapt over it, but the edge of the crevice on the other side was severely eroded by the heavy rain and did not afford a steady landing spot. The animal�s hind legs slid awkwardly on the slippery ground, and the stallion, terrified by the sudden loss of balance, gave out a wounded cry and jerked himself violently upward, pushing away from the edge. This sudden jerk caught Tornado�s riders unawares, and, though Zorro did his best to hang on, his gloved hand slipped on the wet harness, catching nothing but air.
The outlaw was thrown out of the saddle, falling hard on his injured arm. For a brief moment, a sharp wave of pain shot through his body, knocking the wind out of him and clouding his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside.
And then he heard it � a piercing scream of a child that broke into his pain-clouded consciousness. Zorro pulled himself up to the edge just in time to catch the boy�s hand, as it was sliding down the muddy mountainside, desperately trying to grab a hold of something steady.
�I got you,� he breathed, trying to ignore the violent throbbing in his left arm that increased with his every movement.
The rain grew stronger, beating down on them like a lion-tamer�s whip. A strong gust of wind blew Zorro�s hat off, and the water began streaming down his face, blinding him. Biting his lip stubbornly, he wiped his face on the wet sleeve of his shirt, clearing his eyes, and he held on�
***
� �Please, don�t let me fall, se�or Zorro! Please!� the boy pleaded, digging his fingers into the masked man�s wrist.
Zorro gritted his teeth, straining to pull the boy back up onto the ledge. But the rain-soaked mud betrayed him once again, and, feeling his feet slide out from under him, not finding solid ground, Zorro fell on his stomach with a desperate groan. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around Carlito�s arm, but his grip was weakening, as his left arm has gone practically numb.
�Carlito,� he cried hoarsely, �you have to help me. Try to reach up with your other hand.�
�I can�t,� the boy replied weakly, his dark eyes reflecting hopelessness and fear. �Can�t.�
Zorro felt Carlito�s arm slip slowly out of his grasp, and he had no strength left to prevent it from happening. The boy�s eyes locked on his for one last time, and then the tiny thread of force that still held the two of them together broke, and the boy plummeted down into the abyss.
Zorro froze on his knees at the edge of the precipice, stricken with horror and grief, watching as the darkness below him swallowed his little companion, powerless to look away.
The rain kept lashing down on him from the cold dark sky, but he was oblivious to it � oblivious to everything. A terrifying feeling of emptiness spread inside him, choking him. Tears burned his throat, but he found himself unable to cry. It was as though something had broken inside him. The pain in his heart was agonizing, and he could do nothing to relieve it. He felt nauseated and had to force himself away from the edge, as the world began to spin in front of his eyes. Bringing both hands up to his temples, he lingered in that pose, desperately attempting to stop the spinning. Then, with a sharp gasp of a drowning man, he tore off his mask and bandana, as if these objects had been suffocating him. His wet locks flew about, spattering drops of rain to the sides, and Zorro ran his gloved hand absently over his face and hair.
Somnambulist-like, he struggled to his feet and staggered through the sticky mud over to where his loyal stallion stood shaking from his own near-fall experience. Tornado whinnied softly at his master�s approach and nuzzled him almost apologetically.
�It is all right, my friend,� Zorro mumbled in a weary voice, gently patting Tornado�s neck. �Let�s go home.� He grabbed the reins with his good hand and pulled himself up onto the horse�s back.