The Arrival Read online

  Lee shuts her trap. But it’s a blind spot that’s been re-filled. And now she knows that Shandi town is where to go next.

  Chapter 7

  Darren’s pumping himself up, rolling his shoulder blades clockwise and anti-clockwise, twisting his neck from the right-side and then rotating it and starting again from the left. He then goes for some toughening up, by throwing some punches in continued intervals with no punching bag and jogging on the spot.

  He’s kicking out both his legs and loosening those tight muscles that are knotting from the compression. Darren feels it in the knees, clustered lungs, dry throat, wandering eyes, and racing heartbeat - that he can’t outrun a bunch of rebels with machetes.

  “I can’t see us beating those guys out there, Angelina. What’s a cleaver going to do for me against what they have in their hands?”

  “It’s going to do a whole lot more than just having your 2-fists to game-play with. You’d do better to get to the sanctuary. Because even if my father gets back and they leave, they’ll come searching for you again. This is only as a cautionary item. Use it only if you have to. It might not come to that but if it does, just run. And run fast!”

  “When do we make that move?”

  Angelina heads to the front door, opens it, and then gently closes it behind her before approaching the two rebels. Darren heads to the window to see what on a blue moon is she actually planning to do without answering him. He opens the window to hear their conversation.

  The two rebels show the same level of disbelief at the confidence from Angelina. They disarm their machetes and let it hang by their thighs. The taller one of the two speaks his mind. “If you were that stranger, you’d be dead by now.”

  “But I’m not a stranger. Which means I have no reason to fear you.”

  They both snigger. But the shorter one has a more brusquely tone with his pronunciation. “You are woman. Pretty one too. Should that not be a reason to be afraid of us?”

  “I’m woman who would not come easy. And my father, he’d make sure to get you back!”

  They stay quiet. “Take me seriously here. And understand that the stranger will come out. But we need all four of you to be here when he does.”

  “What do you mean all four?” The taller one asks cluelessly.

  “There are four of you.”

  “And how would you know this?”

  “Rebels never come in 2. They always travel in 4-or-6.”

  “Hmm. You know a lot for your young age.”

  “I have seen rebel attacks when you hunt down certain strangers. It makes it easier for backup to be present.” Darren is rapt with her sureness out there. And judging by what Angelina is saying, the backdoor must not be visible to them. They are only hiding around the back.

  “But what if we said there is only two of us. And we don’t move so predictable?”

  “Then you wouldn’t be following Pumpkins instructions. Even though you are generally allowed to do what you please.”

  The shorter one spanks the chief speaker with his machete on his bum cheeks. “Let them come from back there. This home has no back door.”

  “Let the stranger come out first. And then I’ll think about it.”

  “Play fair. He has no weapon.” Angelina says.

  “A home like Hona’s ... nah, I do not believe that. Bring him out here and then I’ll tell the two from around the back to come to the front.”

  “Bu ...” –

  “Call him out! Stranger, if you come out, I promise that there will be no surprise birthday party.” The shorter man laughs diligently at this. As if paid to do it. “Hahahahaha.”

  Angelina looks to the window, Darren can’t read her facial expression, but he has to ruminate his own device of making a breakaway. If he comes out... starts to make his way to them, then maybe, just maybe, he’ll have time to...Darren shows himself to the rebels in the doorway, cleaver tucked into the back of his trousers and shirt covering it. It sits nicely inside his boxers.

  Angelina doesn’t look pleased with this bravado. She’s shifting her vision from them to Darren with her head doing all the steering. If she could, she’d tell him to wait back inside, but Darren’s taking another step into the sunlight and the rebels machetes start to side-clap their thighs like their slapping slabs of raw beef. “Is the stranger coming out!?” It must’ve been a message. Angelina’s rigidity drops a bar lower when she hears one of them call out.

  “Yes!” The tallest man responds back. “You can come to the front. He has finally shown some courage.” Angelina makes her way to Darren, both of the rebels try to stop her from doing so, “stay put.”

  Angelina jostles them off with both elbows and carries on walking like a trade is being made; her for Darren. The men appear from both corners of the house and have their eye on Darren the whole time as he purposely takes his time to make sure that the gap between him and the door isn’t too great. If he reaches 10 – yards, it will be. He’s nowhere close to that yet. But luckily the rebels seem to be in a hurry to make up the fantastic four.

  Angelina seems to be on the slow-mo train as well. The rebels pass her by. The two behind say nothing now, they think all is well. Why shouldn’t it be kosher and tasty marijuana? Angelina is merely going back to collect the stranger. He needs some guidance. They think this man is in league with a puppy. No courage in that frame of his to be considered a top branded dog.

  Darren gives it 10 more seconds. As soon as the men reach and twist to turn and face him, he’ll make a run for it. He has no idea how that door’s setup. But he’ll soon find out when the rebels do exactly what he had hoped they would and stand in a line of four, aligned with their machetes blades resting on shoulders like they want to cut themselves a treat.

  Angelina winks. Darren blinks. And then she turns around and says, “Bernard is coming!”

  The four men turn frantically and scream out; “Pah-ha!” But when they return, Angelina is shutting her door and Darren is running through the back and finding out that the reason they couldn’t see the concealed door is that it’s been painted the same color as the entire house.

  Darren’s been giving some time...he jumps over Hona’s back fence. Pants for the slope that truly is quite a distance away and hears the men in the background. “Angelina. Send him out. No games. No time wasting.” He keeps slinging his head back with a frequent neck condition. He checks to see if any of them are checking around the back. It seems this ploy has worked. They believe he’s inside. He nearly stumbles, but he’s up and running again!

  He hears her reply, “He has changed his mind. You must wait until my father comes. I’m sorry. But please ...” Angelina’s voice blacks-out and he can no longer hear it anymore. Like the uphill road, the back plains to Hona’s home ascends, and Darren finds his hamstrings and glutes working overtime to not tire from the duress and change of inclination.

  It’s a highway to earthy bumps because he hasn’t trekked over so much elevated green since back in the beat when it was a common lunch-time to jog through the park which involved the most difficult route. Darren’s hip reflexors do not fail him when he hits that 100-yard mark and his chest compress like the praying hand tattoo.

  But he is no longer alone. “Pah-ha! Pah-ha!” They might be at least 70 yards behind, but they’re giving chase for that Olympic gold medal. And as Darren flusters with fright, he finds that the oxygen he thought he could no longer muster for that 20 yards more, comes back in full bounds and gives him a healthy bonus to trigger that boom-bye-bye and skate to the hills and say lardie-da-de-da-de-da- da.

  They move fast. So, he must move faster as that slope closes in with every spring that Darren takes as his feet hit the ground and bounce off quicker than he’s ever had to move before. “heurgh-heurgh-heurgh-heurgh-heurhgh!” Darren spinal cord is faltering, the impact of his run is diminishing, his feet are cramping from tiredness, and his calves are swelling and finding it hard to reprogram themselves. His shortened breaths are stirring him a
nd his quads down the path of caving-in.

  He hears their chasing closing in. If that is even possible? But Darren is attempting the slope, and they still have some way to go. If he can make it to the top then the sanctuary would be in his hindsight, although, there would still be more than 50 yards to go. It’s lucky that Darren’s endurance skills have always been his prized possession when on a job and it’s paying his overdue bill.

  “Heurgh-heurgh-heurgh-heurgh-heurhgh!” – it’s still 40 yards. If the special opps can do it, so can a middle-aged man, not quite 30, but sure as hell reaching it in a years’ time – can. Darren’s now sliding that cleaver out from his back and brandishing its grip in his hands. The weight of it makes him feel more secure. Like just in case...just in case...Angelina is on their side and she’s set him up for capture.

  His hands make fists. His arms are swinging right angles. His whole body is stooped as his pressed hamstrings give him a time-out. He blanks out to not think of how much he needs a glass of water. There’s no point in looking to the past, which is closer than he would like them to be. In the present, a is tree approaching and it signals the vantage point.

  Just...a...few....more...strides – and he’s there! Darren’s there! And he dares gaze back down and sees that the rebels are coming up the slope braving no indication of being weary. They must be used to the chicken-run as they’ve just about ascended. Darren lingers no longer, and he sure as hell, does see the sanctuary, where he mockingly makes the sign of the cross on his chest: up-down-left-right – with his index finger so fast that he wonders if that’s how it’s properly done? Who cares. Darren’s off. They’re grunting in pain. And his phone rings as he scrambles to answer it without dropping his cleaver in the process!

  ...

  “Has it been 24-hours yet?” Lee knows it hasn’t. But usually, they can’t keep a citizen detained for any longer than that. Rules may vary, but here and now, they stay the same. “I think you should let me out? It’s the rules after all.”

  “That is rule I not heard before.” Matilda isn’t buying it. “I want no trouble.” She’s buried her head in a fresh bucket of soapy water as she mops the floor. Not factually, but she’s avoiding Lee’s plea with moping as a distraction.

  “The only trouble will be on my head.” Lee’s use to that as a result. “I’ll take it all.”

  “I have key. They will know that I give to you.”

  “No. Say you came in her to mop and I knocked you out and took the key. They will believe you.”

  “No more talk!” Matilda zones out. And Lee is about to sit on one of the bottom bunks but pauses when the man who was present at the motel comes inside with some shabby comfort jeans; a khaki colored military jacket with a sewn in MMM insignia tapered on a cross, and in need of a close shave.

  “Hona, what brings you here?” Matilda stops mopping to look at the man who’s wiping the round boogers from the sides of his plica semilunaris that come out fairly easy.

  “Who do you think? They may not like me, but I still classify as working for the sham of a force they have out here. He has given me orders. And I refuse to obey.”

  “Oh, Hona! Do not mess with these people.”

  “Pah –“

  “Do not pah! You will have them think you are with Pumpkin.”

  “Let Bernard think this! I am tired. And go back to your café. I’m sure you need all the money you can make with what is going to be happening in the next few days.”

  “What have you heard?”

  “Alabastor is staying for a while. And that cannot be a good thing.”

  Matilda picks up the bucket and mop. “I have fed prisoner. I keep bucket here in case she needs to go again.” Matilda turns to Lee, “Be well.” Lee would reply, but she’s already out the door carrying her own mop and bucket that she brought over.

  Lee finds it odd that Hona is alone, “weren’t you with Darren?”

  “Many hours ago, yes. But not anymore. And I only came back here to get you out so that we can drive you to his location.” Hona walks closer to the desk. Lee grips the bars.

  “Is he ok?”

  “I’m truly not sure. But my daughter sends word that he’s a strong runner with a good set of legs on him. But these rebels, they are used to such games and would give it their best shot at keeping up with him.”

  “Shit! I need to get out here pronto!”

  Hona takes hold of the keys and walks to her cell. But hesitates. “Why aren’t you opening this up? Let me out.” Hona stares at the lock. And then to Lee with a weird sort of clingy idea that he has stacked up in that brain of his. “Hona, can you let me out of here? I don’t have time for manners. I had to put up with Matilda and her mood. It’s etched off on me. So, open this fucking cell!?”

  “Bad language won’t help you much. I’m only hesitating because I wonder if you wouldn’t be safer in here than out there.”

  “I can choose my own path.”

  “No. Unfortunately, the rebels have grown weary with communication. Last night, the rebels that walked through this town, made the journey to Shandi and killed quite a few of the army there. Some had managed to get hold of weapons and broke out into fire. A few civilians died in the uproar. And now, Bernard, and a few of his wealthy friends want to punish the rebellion by hurting the ordinary people. And they will. Because we are nothing but peasants that can work to the death for them.”

  “I understand and feel sorry for you. But Darren and I are not a part of this. We are tourists. Caught up in whatever it is going on out here.”

  “You and your friend Darren are more than just tourists. You operate to much like private investigators of a kind. And in truth, nobody knows about this island.” Hona changes his tone fiercely. “Whoever sent you had ill intent. Nobody would want to be a part of what is happening out here.”

  “I feel you’re going somewhere with this. Are you asking me for a confession of some sort?”

  “I would like to know something about yourself, yes. Just enough for me to know that helping you two out will be worth it in the long run.”

  “Fine. Ask me what you need to know.”

  Hona pokes out his index finger to gets Lee to follow it all the way to the photograph of Camila. “That girl. Do you know her? And please tell me the truth? She was the only woman who tried to do some good. And if you are here to help her then I and my daughter’s work would not be in vain.”

  “I’m not sure who that is. And that’s the truth, Hona. But I will tell you that she’s just as much a tourist as we are. And I’ll be happy to get out of here and see if we can find her. But finding Ringo is also something that Darren and I need to do.”

  “Ringo will be a problem to find if he ran off. And locating him will be something that you and Darren will have to do through other sources. Also, the same plane you probably flew in with will have been destroyed. And will be re-built into another one.”

  “Then I need to go back to that hangar and have a word with the people who work there?”

  “Not for now. No inbound or outbound flights have been permitted. And work will now be on a standstill for the next couple of days.”

  “Jeeze –“

  “You picked an unusual time to travel.”

  “Can we then make a head start and find Darren?”

  Hona decides to open the cell. Cli-klank. “I need to go back to the motel and collect my things.”

  “Don’t worry about that for now.”

  “Hona. I have no form of protection on me.”

  “So, you carry protection?”

  “In a strange place like this, yes. And with rebels kidnapping strangers too ... I think it would be wise.” Lee walks around Hona who spins at the same time, “I’m heading back there.”

  “I still haven’t asked you questions about the murder.” Hona tries to slow Lee’s roll.

  Lee ignores Hona and is out that station, trying to gauge her bearings and figure out which way is the motel. She sees, at least 45 yar
ds away, the signpost and pathway for the horses crossing-line. She heads in that direction because she remembers Ringo driving directly east from that point onwards.

  Lee hears in the background like a picked zit being busted, “stop walking, stranger.” It hurts to hear it because she doesn’t recognize the voice and has no way of defending herself against the dominance that shackles her ankles. Lee stays still. “Hona should be respected. You seem like a lady who lacks that very much.”

  “Leave it be, Timothy. Leave it. ” but Hona gives up repeating himself when there’s no use. Timothy wants a word with Lee, and he’s not going to change his mind over that. When Lee gets a glimpse of the man, he’s oriental with an almost heart shaped skull. His eyelids are tightly engorged and that falls under the same term for the rest of his features: that’s an upside-down triangle.

  He dresses like Bernard, importantly corporate in a burgundy suit that out here, makes them look so mundane and conventional. It’s more than a few hundred dollars, and his well brushed and prepped hair looks shinier than his waxes brown leather shoes. His fringe curls upwards like a tick.

  “Another man who falls under the bought luggage label?” Lee doesn’t want Timothy to come any nearer. She’s just about had it with all this interrogation.

  “No. Bernard takes that line. I more employ his type because they’re so good at treasury and finances.”

  “I seriously don’t care. I’m not going back in there.”

  “Fine. Fine.” Timothy pouts his lips and then points to the station with a thumb back. “But will you have a war with me if I tell you that I know exactly who you are? And you’d be better to speak with me somewhere else?”

  “I’m a tourist.”

  “Henny did say that he was sending an unusual tourist our way.”

  Clam-shells and fucked up oysters, Lee doubles her vision back to Hona, who seems to be creeping away from this scene. She wishes she could do the same. This man knows Henny. The same Henny who said that they had gotten on the wrong plane.