by Kae Bell
Andrew had photographed half of the pages when he realized the snoring behind him had stopped. Too late he felt the presence and turned just as a sharp ax came down on his left shoulder. The blade cut through his backpack strap and his light jacket. Andrew wrenched away before it cut deeper, and knocked the weapon to the floor.
He turned and punched Rith hard across the chin and kicked out his knee, then raced toward the unguarded window. Rith yelled out to his guards, who roused from their stupor.
From the other tents, the men heard the alarm and raced out to join the chase. A few were fast, faster than Andrew and one of them tackled him, knocking Andrew to the ground. Andrew held on to his attacker and rolled right to avoid the onslaught of others charging toward him. He rolled into the cooking fire, which still had red coals hot enough to burn the soldier’s bare back. As the man felt the coals burn into his flesh, he released his own grip on Andrew, screaming in pain.
Andrew ran now toward the gate, but got only a few steps farther before the next shadowy figure tackled him, grabbing his wounded shoulder, causing Andrew to yelp in pain. Andrew whirled around, grabbing his gun from the small of his back, and shot his attacker, who fell to the ground.
Reaching the gate, which was lower than the wall by a couple feet, Andrew jumped to grab hold of the top. Shots rang out as the men fired in Andrew’s direction, the sound echoing in the night. It was dark and the shots pinged left. Andrew threw himself over the gate and ran into the jungle.
Behind him, he heard the gate roll open behind him and swift footsteps as the men fanned out into the forest. These guards had spent the past year living in this forest. They knew the terrain. There would be few places for Andrew to hide.
*******
Andrew pushed his way through the underbrush. He’d covered about four hundred yards, but without any guiding moonlight, he wasn’t even sure what direction he was going. The guards pressed behind him, yelling to each other in Khmer. They were younger than he was. Faster. It would only be a matter of time before they caught him.
As Andrew ran forward in the dark, he tripped and fell, his boot caught on something. He pulled at it, but the lace was caught. He felt around then flicked on his flashlight. A metal bar protruded from a round stone structure. His bootlace loop had caught the end. He reached to untangle himself. The guards’ yells were louder.
He heard a voice directly behind him.
“Howdy fella.”
Andrew turned, shining his light at the voice. He saw an elderly white man, wearing a faded Yankees ball cap, staring at him.
“If you’ll come with me, I’ll get you somewhere safe. Quick now. You’ve created quite a ruckus.”
Andrew’s options were few. He stood and followed the man, who moved with knowledge and ease through the dark brush.
Chapter 20
Severine stopped by the orphanage in the morning. She knew Andrew was in Mondulkiri and she was anxious for news, but all she could do was wait. She walked in to the courtyard.
Normally at this time, the children would be enjoying morning recess, playing loudly. But instead the kids were seated in small quiet groups, talking. A couple children cried. Severine spotted Kolab standing in a courtyard corner by the tallest tree, talking on the phone. When Kolab saw Severine, she hung up. Severine walked to her. The children watched.
“Kolab, what is going on?”
Kolab wrung her hands. “They’ve taken Samnang.”
“What are you talking about? Who has?”
“I don’t know. Two men came in, they had guns. They looked at all the children. Then they took Samnang with them.” Kolab was dressed in her nightgown and her black hair, usually braided down her back, hung loose on her shoulders.
Severine felt sick.
“Did they say anything? Did they say why they took her?”
“They saw her necklace. They tried to take it from her but she screamed. So they took her.”
Severine tried to remember a necklace but couldn’t.
“What necklace?”
“It was a trinket on a string. It was not even pretty. A broken piece of clay or stone on a chain.
Severine’s throat constricted. “Where did she get it?”
“From Ben. Ben gave it to her for her birthday last week.”
Chapter 21
The dirt road through the slums by Wat Steung Meanchey was pitted from the combination of heavy rain and heavy traffic. Metal shacks lined the streets. Inside, fires cast sad light on meager dinners.
It was after 9:00 PM, but barefoot children still played in the road. They scattered like roaches as the tuk-tuk approached, its lone headlight shining bright. The driver Kiem slowed to a stop in front of a yellow three-story house set back from the street. He turned back to his passenger.
“We are here, Miss Severine.”
A heavy-set guard with close-cropped black hair sat outside on the concrete stoop, leaning against the wall, half-asleep. He opened one keen eye when he heard the tuk-tuk approach and then the other when its engine cut off in front of the house. He shifted his gun in his thick hand and waited.
The street smelled of glue. Across the street from the yellow house, several young men sat on the floor of a shack, working in dim light with their hands, their fingers turning, lifting, bending. Severine saw they were making flip-flops, cutting and pasting the pieces together. The men, high on fumes, were oblivious to her.
The guard called out and Kiem nodded to him as he took off his helmet.
Severine asked “What did he say?”
“He asked why we are here. He knows who you are, Miss Severine.”
Severine stepped down from the tuk-tuk and took several steps forward to approach the guard. She’d seen him around town at the clubs. His name was Cho. She knew he did security for a couple local gangsters. He was a brute with a reputation for unwarranted violence.
“If you know me, you know I want Samnang. She is my responsibility. I have money to give for her release.” Severine lifted a plastic bag above her head, her bare white arm gleaming in the light.
A second guard emerged from the yellow house and glanced at the street and Severine. The two guards conferred. The second guard yelled to Kiem, who listened and translated, twisting his soft hat in his hands.
“He says give them the money and they will bring it to Heang.”
Severine shook her head.
“No. I will only give the money to Heang in exchange for Samnang...”
The guard interrupted her, letting loose an angry string of guttural sounds that encompassed the entirety of Khmer profanity. He took several quick long strides forward to Severine, his arm raised. Severine backed away, stepping on a loose stone in the road, nearly losing her balance.
A large, broad-shouldered man appeared in the doorway and spoke a single word. The guard stopped in his tracks and his shoulders slumped. He stomped off down the road like a petulant child. Severine breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the angry guard fade into the night.
“You are Heang,” Severine said and bowed low, her white hands folded in front of her forehead, as she bent forward. She stood upright. “I am here for Samnang. I have money for her, a lot of money.” She opened the plastic bag and took out a bound stack of fifties. The edge of the bills flipped in the breeze.
Heang waved his hand as if plagued by a pesky fly.
“Samnang is no longer your concern,” he said.
“Please, let me have her. I can get you more money.” Desperation had crept into her voice. Her face was wrought with fear for the scared little girl somewhere in that vast house.
Heang spoke to Cho, who rushed forward and grabbed the plastic bag, sneering at Severine, and gave it to Heang. Heang reached in and pulled out the bound bills, sniffed them then chucked the hunk of paper, underhanded, toward the open fire. The money fell short, landing in a deep puddle with a splash.
Cho eyed the wet bills. It was more money than he’d make in a lifetime.
He
ang seethed. “I don’t want your dirty money.”
Down the street, barking and yelling ensued, as a vigilant guard dog surprised the disgraced guard. Barking and yelling ensued for several seconds until a single shot sounded in the night. Then all was quiet again.
Severine approached Heang. She knew Samnang was inside this rickety house, steps away, scared and alone. She would not leave without her.
“Please, may I see her for a moment? If you let me see her, I can tell you where the necklace is from.”
Heang’s eyes narrowed. He stepped out of the doorway and down the steps until he stood on the ground.
“You know about the necklace?” he asked.
She glanced at Kiem. Now she would have to bluff.
“Yes. Yes, and there is more, much more than that. Please let me see her and I will tell you.”
Hakk stared at her.
“Five minutes.” He jutted his chin out at Cho and yanked his head toward the house.
In three strides Cho was by Severine’s side, grabbing her arm and dragging her forward. She stumbled in surprise as she hurried along the courtyard with his assistance.
Inside, a television played on full blast. A tiny old Khmer man was sprawled on a ripped couch in the corner, cackling at the TV. The guard barked and the old man sat up and stood.
Severine saw it was actually an old woman, with very short gray hair and a deeply wrinkled face. There was not a patch of skin that was not lined. The woman smiled broadly as she listened to the guard’s instructions, making sounds of agreement every few sentences. The guard frisked Severine, feeling over her loose clothes and her belt. Satisfied, he gave her a look and left the room.
The old woman smiled, displaying a few remaining yellow teeth, and took Severine’s hand in her own. She led Severine through a doorway and down the hallway, to the back of the house and a stairwell.
The hallway walls were covered with cheap tapestries featuring the temples of Siem Reap, held to the walls by colorful plastic thumbtacks.
Climbing up the stairs, Severine listened for any sound from the closed doors but the house was quiet. She could hear the guards heckling Kiem outside but knew he could take care of himself.
Upstairs on the landing, the old woman stopped by a door and fumbled in her breast pocket. She unlocked the door and indicated Severine should step in. Ahead of her, Severine saw yet another stairway, leading to a third floor. It was dark but Severine took a few steps in. The door closed and she heard the bolt shoot closed. She was locked in.
She started up the steps, not sure if this was trick by Heang. She considered that no one in the world knew where she was.
On the third floor landing, Severine heard whimpering. She hurried the last couple steps to the door.
The room was large – but with only one small high window. From the window, Severine could see a crescent of moon. As Severine’s eyes adjusted to the light, she spotted Samnang curled up on a rickety metal cot in the corner of the dusty room. Severine rushed to her.
“Little Samnang. It’s me, Severine.” With the old woman and the guard somewhere at the bottom of the stairwell, Severine knew she had only minutes with Samnang. Samnang’s eyes were black in the dark room. Severine could barely see her little face in the shadows.
“Severine. Sok s’bey.”
Severine embraced Samnang, brushing her black hair back from her face. Samnang was crying but smiled at Severine. Severine looked across the bed, where there was a glass of water on a ledge. Severine held it to Samnang.
“Here, little one, you need to drink. Have they given you anything to eat?” Samnang shook her head. Severine cursed under her breath, “Animals.”
Severine folded the bedclothes while Samnang drank the water.
At the sound of footsteps, Severine gathered her wits together. She was not going to settle for a goodbye.
“Samnang, listen, we need to get you out of here, but these are bad men. I need you to trust me. Do you trust me, will you do what I say?” she whispered, hoping the little girl understood. Samnang nodded.
Cho appeared in the doorway and waved his gun. “Enough. Time to go.”
Severine gave Samnang one last hug and walked to the door, stopping briefly to peer out the single window. It was small but it would do. She looked back to see the little girl, who waved a small hand.
As Severine walked down the steep steps and through the house, her mind raced. Heang waited outside, his face a sneer.
“You got to see the little girl. Now go.”
Severine picked the money up from the puddle - Heang had kicked it in - and shook it.
“Thank you for letting me see her.” She bowed with palms together to Heang and turned away.
“Kiem, I’m ready to go home now.”
Lighting a cigarette, Heang watched as the tuk-tuk drove away. He liked to toy with his prey. He called out to the guards. He had a job for them.
Chapter 22
The old man walked to a wall of stone that rose up before them in the jungle. He flicked on a red flashlight. Andrew watched in the bare light as the man pressed the stone wall and the rock moved. A sliver of light and then a gap appeared, just wide enough to slip through sideways. He gestured at Andrew to follow. The door closed behind them.
They were inside a small stone chamber. A stairway at the chamber’s far side led down. The man walked to this and began to descend the steps. Andrew followed.
At the bottom of the stairwell was a large metal door. The man inserted a key and the door swung open. Another staircase stretched down and down, as far as Andrew could see. Andrew hesitated.
The man led the way. Again, Andrew followed.
“I’m Stuart,” the man said over his shoulder.
“Andrew.”
“You don’t like this so much?”
Andrew shook his head. “Not so much.”
“Better than getting skewered out there.”
Andrew nodded. “True.”
Andrew’s ears popped slightly on the descent. At the bottom, another door and another key revealed a long hallway.
“Come on.” Stu had started the walk down the hallway and glanced back at Andrew, who hurried to catch up.
At the end, they’d reached another stone wall. Stu pushed through a swinging door and under a low archway.
Andrew followed and looked around. He was stunned by what lay in front of him. It was a vast open well-lit space, a huge cavern underground. Andrew’s estimate was that the space was about a football field long and wide.
But it wasn’t the open space that shocked him.
It was the people.
There were men, several of them. Andrew counted nine that he could see. Ten including Stuart. From what Andrew could tell, they were all Westerners, engaged in various activities.
A few struggled with a large unwieldy green tent, next to a row of already constructed tents. Next to the tents was a basketball court, where two guys were playing hoops, albeit slowly. A couple men sat by a tent playing checkers. Two more were tending a garden beyond the tents, but close to the river.
The men waved at Stu, who waved back.
Accustomed to the unexpected and not one to be taken aback, Andrew tried to think this through. Andrew estimated that these men were all in their seventies, maybe a couple in their eighties.
He turned to look around and inhaled at the sight to his left. “There’s a river.” At the far western edge of the space, a river flowed through the cavern.
One of the men tending the garden, a burly guy who looked like he might have been a defensive lineman a long time ago, had looked up and dusted the dirt off his hands. He dropped his trowel in the dirt and headed up the hill toward Andrew and Stuart, taking his time.
Andrew turned to Stuart. “Who are all these guys?” Before Stu could answer, the gardener had reached them.
“Who’ve you brought us this time, Stu?”
“This is Andrew. He’s a friend. He needed some help out there.”
>
The burly man stuck out his hand to Andrew, who took it, staring with interest at the man’s wrinkles. The man’s eyes sparkled; he was delighting in the surprise on Andrew’s face.
“Welcome to our little slice of heaven. I'm Frank Hopper.”
Frank spoke with a slight southern twang. His handshake was strong and warm.
Stu turned to Frank, “I’ve not explained our set-up. Andrew had caught the attention of the neighbors, so I thought it best just to hurry along.”
Frank nodded. “Got it. OK.” He turned to Andrew, put a thick arm around his shoulder. “Well, son, how about I show you around? Sound alright?”
Andrew followed Frank down the hill to the basic camp, Frank walking with care along the rocky terrain. Andrew stepped in his footsteps.
Frank glanced back and said, “I’m sure you’re wondering, what the hell. So, it's like this. We came over here when we were young men to fight for our country. Things didn’t work the way we’d expected and they definitely didn’t work out for a lot of our brothers over here - we lost a lot of good men. But we all kept fighting, right up to the end.”
“In the 70’s.” Andrew, born in 1971, did the math.
“That’s right. Some years back now. Well, when we got the word it was time to come home, we thought hard about it. All of us here had done multiple tours and we’d got used to living in the jungle, with the bugs, the heat, hell even the food. And we heard things were pretty bad for GIs back home, people spitting on our boys, calling ‘em nasty names. After what we went through over here, we didn’t think that sounded too good. So we figured we’d stay put, lay low, wait it out ‘til things got better. We’d got to know the jungle pretty good, so had found this here place to hole up.”
“You’re across the border? You’re in Cambodia,” Andrew said.
Frank sighed. “The borders weren’t quite what they are today, son. Shifting sands.”
Frank pulled out a pipe and tapped it out, refilled it and lit it, all in one fluid motion. “Where was I?” He looked to the ceiling for a moment, thinking, annoyed at his fair-weather memory. “Got it, that’s right.”