David Robbins - Miami Run

The night was perfect for a sacrifice.

A brilliant full moon illuminated the Everglades as the party of 13 robed figures and the woman in the blue dress threaded a path toward the grove on the island 50 yards ahead. A cool, moist breeze stirred the red robes of the 13 and caused the woman to shiver. Her fearful green eyes locked on the island and she stumbled.

The scarlet-robed figure to her rear stepped in close and gripped her left arm to prevent her from falling.

She regained her balance, but she recoiled defiantly at his touch, jerking her arms from his grasp. Her wrists were already hurting from the tight coils of rope binding them behind her back. “Don’t touch me!” she snapped.

“We wouldn’t want you to fall,” the figure responded, his features enshrouded in the hood of his robe.

“I didn’t know you cared!” she stated sarcastically.

“We care, Carmen,” the figure said. “We care about keeping you clean for the Masters.”

“Stuff the Masters!”

The red-robed figure sighed. “Such a childish attitude will only make it worse.”

“What could be worse than dying?” Carmen retorted.

“You have no one to blame but yourself,” the figure noted. “You deliberately violated the Precepts of Dealership. The consequences are inevitable.”

Carmen glanced at the grove of trees and began chewing nervously on her lower lip as they moved nearer.

“You always were too smart for your own good,” the figure commented.

“You thought you were better than everybody else.”

“I was,” Carmen replied. “I was the best damn Dealer in the Dragons, and you know it!”

“Your distribution network was superbly organized,” the figure conceded. “And your enforcement procedures were carried out to the letter. You had everything worth living for. Wealth. Power. Prestige. And you blew it.”

“I was framed!” Carmen declared.

“You were stupid,” the figure responded. “You weren’t satisfied. How did you expect to get away with cutting your own deal? Did you really think the Masters wouldn’t learn about your deception? The Masters know everything.”

Carmen snorted. “They don’t know crap!”

“They know you were cheating them,” the figure said. “They know you were diluting the Powder of Life, then selling the watered-down bags at full market value. You were skimming some of the Powder to sell on the side and make yourself richer.” He paused. “You were greedy.”

“Lies! It’s all a bunch of lies!” Carmen insisted.

“Please,” the man said. “Don’t insult my intelligence. Your hearing was fair and square. The evidence against you was overwhelming.”

“What evidence?” Carmen retorted. “You took the word of a low-life junkie over mine!”

“Four complaints were lodged against you,” the figure mentioned.

“Three were from middle-echelon distributors. Only one was from a street junkie.”

“That damn Harlan!” Carmen muttered.

“Harlan did the right thing. He knew he wasn’t getting his money’s worth, and every customer is granted the right to petition the Directors for a hearing.”

“I was framed!” Carmen repeated.

“Suit yourself,” the figure said. “But the thirteen of us listened to all of the evidence and rendered the only possible verdict. The Masters had advised us to keep—”

“They what?” Carmen interrupted.

“The Masters knew of your deception before Harlan and the others brought their formal complaints,” he detailed. “The Directors were advised to keep an eye on your activities.”

“You were?” Carmen asked in disbelief.

“We were,” the robed man confirmed.

“But how?” Carmen queried.

“The Masters have their ways,” he replied.

Carmen looked to the right and the left, gauging her chances of escaping. They were nil. The path to the island was the only solid strip of ground for hundreds of yards, surrounded by the mucky, peat-filled, treacherous soil of the Everglades submerged under a foot or more of water.

“Don’t even think about it,” the man advised, as if he could read her mind.

The party reached the eastern edge of the island and started up a slight incline. Wax myrtles and willows lined the path.

Carmen gazed toward the top of the rise. “I thought we were friends, Arlo,” she commented.

“That’s a cheap shot,” Arlo said.

“You can get me off the hook with the Masters,” Carmen stated. “They’d listen to you.”

“Be serious.”

Carmen licked her lips. “I am. Talk to them for me. Intercede in my behalf.”

“I can’t, and you know it.”

“Please!”

“Don’t beg,” Arlo said. “It doesn’t become you.”

They climbed steadily higher.

“Tell them I’ll straighten up my act,” Carmen said. “Tell them I’ll turn over a new leaf.”

“Are you finally admitting your guilt?” Arlo questioned.

Carmen’s slim shoulders slumped and she expelled the breath in her lungs. “All right,” she declared. “I admit it. I wasn’t framed.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Arlo said dryly.

“What if I make a full confession?”

“It wouldn’t do any good,” Arlo told her. “The execution verdict is final.”

“I can always try,” Carmen said.

“I expected better from you.”

Carmen glanced over her left shoulder. All she could see was the tip of Arlo’s angular chin and his nose protruding from his hood. “What else can I do? What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“I would never allow my ego to supplant my better judgment,” Arlo remarked.

“I don’t want to die!” Carmen declared bluntly.

“Who does?”

Carmen faced the path, a feeling of utter helplessness welling up within her. Her resolve faltered and her courage flagged. A sensation of weakness engulfed her legs and she slowed.

“Don’t drag your heels,” Arlo admonished.

Carmen looked at him and mustered a feeble smile. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Arlo didn’t respond.

“We organized our distributorships at the same time,” Carmen mentioned. “We rose through the ranks together. Hell, we were even appointed as Dealers on the same day.”

“It won’t work,” Arlo said. “You can’t expect me to change my mind by recalling the good old days. Those days are long gone. We’ve been out of touch in recent years, and the fault wasn’t mine. You set yourself up as a queen in your district. You lorded it over everybody. Where are all your other old friends? I’ll tell you. They don’t want to have anything to do with you. You alienated everyone with your ambition, Carmen.”

“I always treated you with respect.”

“Only because you had to,” Arlo stated. “As a fellow Dealer, I was your equal.”

“And now you’re more than my equal,” Carmen said bitterly. “You were selected to become a Director. I was overlooked.”

“You would have been selected as a Director someday,” Arlo observed.

“Someday! When?” Carmen demanded. “I was tired of waiting! You became a Director over four years ago. Why wasn’t I given a Directorship? My qualifications were as good as yours.”

“The Masters didn’t think so.”

“The Masters have had it in for me since the beginning,” Carmen maintained.

“Have you been snorting your own sneeze?” Arlo inquired.