Run into Trouble

CHAPTER 3

Border Field State Park marks the United States side of the border with Mexico. The route for Running California starts here and wends its way north along the beach past the Oneonta Slough. Some wading may be necessary. The route continues along Imperial Beach and then across the narrow isthmus that separates the Pacific Ocean from San Diego Bay. It may be easier to run on Silver Strand Boulevard (Route 75) than the sand here. Stay on Route 75 and continue to the entrance to the San Diego-Coronado Bridge.

The official Giganticorp bus was bright green with “Giganticorp” written on the side in large orange script. Below the company name the words “Running California” were painted on it in purple. The whole scene would have been impossible for Drake to miss, even if Melody hadn’t been standing beside the bus waving frantically at him. He limped over to her.

She looked at him, not trying to hide her dismay. “Where were you? I rang your room, but you didn’t answer.”

“Good morning to you, too. My first problem is going to be getting up these steps.”

The initial step, especially. He’d had enough trouble negotiating a few much lower steps. Drake tried to lift one foot, but the pain in his back stopped him well before it reached the level of the step. If the bus had been able to pull up to the curb in front of the hotel, he might have had more success. The extra nine or ten inches of height from street level was a killer. He did no better with the other foot. His run of the California coast might end right now.

“Could we have a boost here?” Melody called to Peaches who was sitting in the driver’s seat.

Peaches got up and stomped down the steps. Without saying a word, he positioned himself behind Drake, grabbed his elbows, and lifted him up to the first step with about the same effort that it would take most people to lift half a dozen hardcover books from a table. It hurt to be lifted, but Drake squelched a groan. The other steps were lower, and Drake managed to escape further humiliation; he pulled himself up by grabbing the handrails and putting most of his weight on his arms.

Ignoring the stares of the other runners, he stumbled along the aisle and fell into an empty seat.

“Move over-if you can.”

He laboriously moved over to the window seat as Melody sat down beside him. In contrast to his elephantine moves, she was so graceful that it almost looked as if she sat on air just above the seat. Peaches shifted into gear, and the bus started rolling.

Melody looked at him. “I didn’t think you were going to show up. Maybe it would be better if you hadn’t. You’re fit for nothing but lying in a bed of pain.”

“You always did have a way with words. But to answer your earlier question, I was on the floor stretching, and I couldn’t get to the phone when it rang. The pain woke me at four, and I spent the next three hours alternately icing my back and trying to stretch without killing myself.”

“Did you eat?”

“I had room service bring me breakfast. I figured if Casey could afford a million dollar prize, he could afford that. Tell me about the dinner last night.”

“I met the runners I didn’t meet yesterday afternoon. Naturally, they’re completely discounting us.”

Drake shrugged. “They’re not used to seeing women runners. That would work to our advantage, but because of the shape I’m in, they’re quite correct to discount us.”

“There’s another thing.” Melody lowered her voice. “I’m the only one not from California.”

Drake pondered that. “I think we have some questions to ask Casey. Did he make a speech?”

“Actually, he did. He’s quite the orator. He talked about the glorious adventure we were embarking on and how much good it was going to do for the great state of California.”

“Did he mention the million dollars?”

“He managed to toss that in. And he emphasized the tax free part. Although I’m not sure how he’s going to manage that. One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been in the States is that taxes are inevitable, just like they are in jolly old England, and just like it says in the saying.”

“I suspect he’s going to pay additional money to the winners to cover the taxes. Although, if he does that, the additional payment becomes taxable, and he’ll have to give more money to pay those taxes. And then-”

“I get your point. It goes on forever. Well, I’ll let you be the calculator for our team. You always were more calculating than I was.”

“We missed you at dinner last night.”

The man avoided looking at Drake’s bandaged face.

“I heard it was a lot of fun.”

He shook hands with the eighth or ninth runner he had just met. He thought this one called himself Glen. The names and faces blurred together, although he realized that their body types were similar-thin and not too tall. Not one was over six feet, and the shortest had only an inch on Melody who stood about five and one-half feet. In contrast, Drake cleared six feet by a couple of inches and had a stockier build.

One of the runners had a name that sounded familiar: Tom something-or-other. Drake mentioned this to Melody who was standing beside him, also trying to learn the names.

“Tom Batson. He’s the only Californian ever to win the Boston Marathon.”

“I should know that.”

“After what you’ve been through, it’s a wonder you remember your own name. These are serious runners. Even if you were healthy, we wouldn’t stand much of a chance.”

Peaches had brought them to Border Field State Park. Drake didn’t know it until he swung himself off the bus using mostly his arms, but Casey had ridden on the bus with them. He was wearing runner’s clothes, and he was going to run with them today. Fred had driven separately. There were no reporters here at the boundary between the United States and Mexico.

Fred herded the runners over to the Mexican Border Monument, a marble obelisk proclaiming the friendship of the United States and Mexico, and took pictures of Casey and the runners. The ugly metal and wire border fence extended on either side of the monument and into the ocean. Drake could see a section of Tijuana through the fence, complete with a bullring, which contrasted to the barrenness on the U.S. side.

Casey addressed the group. “I realize that this is an inauspicious start to a grand enterprise, but you’ll receive a proper sendoff this afternoon at the Coronado Bridge. So let’s get going. We’re going to run up the beach for awhile before we hit the road. There may be some swampy places, but we’re runners, and we don’t mind getting our feet wet, right?”

Everybody echoed, “Right.”

“Okay, follow me.”

Casey set off along the sand at a moderate pace. The runners, all wearing shorts and singlets with Running California printed on them, easily kept up with him. Drake’s clothes had been delivered to his room by the taciturn Peaches. Only his running shoes were his own. Fortunately, he had been wearing them yesterday. If by some miracle he was able to continue, he would have to buy at least one more pair of shoes and break them in as they went.

Drake and Melody started behind the others. At first, Drake could hardly walk, let alone run, but after a while he loosened up a little and accelerated to a slow trot. Melody floated effortlessly beside him.

She watched him closely. “You’re looking a little better. How do you feel?”

“Like somebody is sticking pins into my voodoo doll.”

The cloudless sky proclaimed that it was a California August-summer at its peak. How could anybody feel bad on such a beautiful day?

Surprisingly, within a few minutes Drake felt better. The movement helped. Running elevated his spirits, as it often did. Producing endorphins, or something. They sped up to a jog. He and Melody chatted about inconsequential things. His problems seemed to melt away. He almost forgot that someone might be trying to kill him.

They splashed through shallow water as Oneonta Slough lazily joined the ocean, but wet feet were par for the course for marathoners. Running on sand didn’t jolt his back as much as running on a hard surface, but the tradeoff was that it required more effort because the sand gave beneath his feet. That slowed them down, but speed was the least of his worries.

Soon they were passing a row of houses that were right on the beach. Piles of dark rocks formed a wall in front of them-a breakwater, evidently to ward off extra-high tides. Casey was sitting on one of the rocks. Had he given up already?

He rose as they approached and fell into stride beside Drake. He didn’t look winded at all. He was wearing dark glasses against the August sun.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Nothing to worry about. Either I can do it or I can’t. I figure today’s run is the equivalent of perhaps half a marathon. Challenging but not conclusive since we’re going to be running daily marathons soon. We put a man on the moon in July. This can’t be any harder than that.”

Casey laughed. “Giganticorp helped create the technology for the space program. Fred is setting up an appointment with a chiropractor for you after you cross the bridge. We should be able to get you one every day as long as we’re in the populated area of Southern California.”

“Thanks, but it’s going to take more than a chiropractor, I’m afraid. Like rest.”

“Rest is the one thing I can’t promise you, although you’ll get a day off from time to time.” Casey grinned at Drake. “But I know you’ll stick it out. You’ve done harder things in your life.”

From the other side of Drake, Melody said, “Why should we stick it out if we have no chance of winning the money?”

Casey’s face had a look of surprise, whether real or feigned Drake didn’t know. “I don’t believe that for a minute. You’ve got the experience and persistence the others don’t have. They can run a single marathon, but can they run a marathon day after day without burning out? Do they know how to pace themselves? I figure you two should know how to do that. When they start to fade, you’ll eat them up.”

Right. What did he mean about experience and persistence? That Drake was the oldest entrant and thus had more life experience? Age wasn’t a plus here. He had other questions. “Why teams? Running is an individual sport.”

“Practical considerations. A lot of the California coast is pretty desolate, and we don’t have the manpower to keep track of every runner all the time. We figured that you have an incentive to stay with your teammate and make sure he’s okay.”

“I understand that all the runners are from California, except Melody. Why did you pick her?”

“Don’t you like having Melody as a teammate?”

That was a non-answer. Drake and Melody glanced at each other.

Casey must have seen the look. He turned on his ingratiating smile.

“I heard somewhere that you two already knew each other and figured that you might like to run together.”

Drake and Melody exchanged another look. Casey was in effect admitting that he had access to classified information. Either that or he knew somebody who had known them in England. Whatever the truth, they couldn’t probe without being in danger of violating their personal secrecy prohibitions. They couldn’t even admit they had known each other before yesterday.

Drake pulled a canteen from a small pouch strapped to his waist and took a couple of swallows of water without slowing down. He decided to change the subject. “I’m concerned that whoever hit the taxi yesterday-”

“May try again. Don’t sweat it. As long as you’re part of Running California you’re under the protection of Giganticorp. You’re safe.”

It was the second time he’d said that. Melody moved over so that she was on the other side of Casey. “You just said yourself that parts of the California coast are desolate, and you don’t have enough Peaches clones to patrol them.”

“I’ll tell you what. If either of you gets injured in any kind of attack, I’ll give you a million dollars. How’s that for a guarantee?”

Drake smiled. “My sister will love it. But it won’t do me any good if I’m six feet under.”

“You’re not chickening out, are you? After the firefights you survived in Korea?”

Giganticorp had investigated his military career. Found out about Melody. Now Casey was appealing to his manhood. He really wanted Drake on this run. Why? Something to think about. He changed the subject again.

“I wonder if a really high tide ever reaches those houses we passed.”

Casey took in the entire beach around them with a sweep of his hand. “This belongs to everyone. Nobody should be allowed to build houses on the beach.”

“You mean because of the danger that they’ll be washed away?”

Houses on Malibu Beach, north of Los Angeles, were periodically damaged during storms.

“Because the beach belongs to everyone.”

Casey was repeating himself. Drake decided to test him. “According to California law, the part of the beach below the mean high-tide line does belong to everyone. The part above that is private property where it isn’t a government-owned recreation area.”

“The boundary line between public and private property should be at least an eighth of a mile inland.”

Melody laughed. “Based on my observations so far, I would say it’s a little late for that.”

Casey looked up as if searching the heavens for some kind of truth. “Is it?”

Casey stayed with them as they ran along the isthmus between the bay and the ocean. They ran on the silky white sand instead of the pavement of Silver Strand Boulevard because the softer surface was easier on Drake’s back.

“Unidentified vehicle at nine o’clock.”

The other two followed Melody’s pointing arm and saw a jeep coming across the sand at an angle to cut them off. She turned to Drake. “Do we need to take evasive action?”

Although what evasive action they could take without weapons, in the middle of the beach, Drake didn’t know. They certainly couldn’t outrun the jeep. They stopped running and watched it approach. Melody moved away from Drake so that they wouldn’t present an easy target. Casey watched the jeep too, but didn’t seem to be alarmed.

The driver wore a fatigue uniform, and Drake concluded he must be a naval officer. He relaxed a little. As far as he knew, the navy didn’t have anything against him.

The jeep stopped beside them, and the officer bid them good morning. When they responded in kind, he said, “There may still be unexploded shells on this part of the beach from training exercises. For your own safety I recommend that you run on the road.”

“No problem.” Casey smiled at the officer. “We’ll do that. We don’t want to get blown up.”

The officer thanked them and drove away.

Casey turned his smile on Drake and Melody. “False alarm. I told you I’d protect you.”

Drake noticed that he took a large handkerchief out of his waistband and wiped the sweat from his forehead.