The Foragers
Page 14
“Oji-san is dead!” Masaki screamed at the top of his lungs. “Oji-san … is … d-dead!” Tears rolled down his cheeks, flying off his face.
“Shinjirarenai…” I uttered. “I don’t believe it.” I leaned back against the tree, my eyes burning red from the smoke.
“She killed him.” Masaki pointed to at me. “She lied to us.”
“No …” I muttered. “I didn’t … it wasn’t.”
“Masaki.” Enura walked towards him. “Do you even hear what you’re saying? If she was with them, why would she help us take down the Kan?”
“To make us think she’s on our side!” Masaki screamed.
“It’s true,” Jun added. “The Kan wouldn’t mind killing off some of their own.”
“They found a … hair at the lab,” Masaki continued. “They say it’s hers. It’s a match. They found. Her. Hair. On. Oji-san’s dead body! She did it! She framed it to look like he had a heart attack.” Masaki lunged at me but his kunai clanked against Enura’s.
“You will not touch her,” Enura said.
“Get out of my way. She’s a traitor! Mori-san was a fool to trust her. It’s just like what Mother said, once a snake always a snake! Now back away, Enura.”
“No.”
“What?” Masaki’s eyes wavered.
“You can’t be possibly protecting Maya right now,” Jun said. “If this is all true—”
“And if it’s not? Do you want innocent blood on your hands? Huh?!”
“She’s not innocent.” Jun hesitated. “She killed all those innocent people in Italy. She started the fire there, and she did it here again.”
“It’s true,” I spoke. “I was the one behind the fire.”
Enura looked back at me. I grabbed onto his arm to back away from the tree. “It’s okay, Enura. They have the right to be frightened.”
“But you didn’t do it. You didn’t kill Oji-san,” Enura insisted.
I nodded.
“Enura, Enura, Enura.” Jun shook his head. “From the moment this pretty girl walked in, you haven’t been able to take your eyes off her.”
“You believe her word over mine?” Masaki choked. “After all we’ve been through together, how could you believe the words of a Kan?”
“Whether she’s with the Kan or not, all I know is that she didn’t do it.”
“Get out of our way, Enura. Otherwise you’re going down with her.” Jun pointed his rifle at Enura.
“Maya,” Enura whispered while pushing me back. “Go.”
“No.” I tightened my fingers around the hilt of my blade. “I don’t want you to die because of me.”
Enura snickered. “You really think these two idiots can kill me? You underestimate me too much.” He turned around to block Masaki’s attacks while Jun shot after me. “Run!” Enura shouted. Masaki swung at Enura. He dodged, spun around and elbowed him. He kicked the rifle out of Jun’s hands and the Kuma Hunter hurried after me.
I leaped over the flames and ducked under falling branches. Bullets whizzed over my head. I heard the propellers of a helicopter above, and saw it fly over with a water tank. Sweat seeped through my clothes and my skin burned like the fire had already reached me. The hammering in my chest made it hard to breathe as tendrils of grey smoke swirled into my lungs. Cool interlocked metal brought a sweet rush to my fingers. I clambered over the fence and hid behind a tree. The Kuma Hunter rattled the fence and scanned the field. I watched him run down a slope. Relieved, I turned around and a blow struck the back of my head. I staggered forward, my mind swirling, and my breaths shallow. Fading screams for help echoed in my ears and feeling in my body drained away until all was black.
Epilogue
A black woodpecker flies over the fire. Its pupils zoom in and out of focus, reflecting the retreating contestants. It blinks.
“Shut it off!” Mrs. Kimura yells at the Director, standing up from her chair.
A young man pauses the surveillance footage on the screen. “The coms are still down,” he says. “Whatever it was, it might take some time to get the audio back on.”
“What about my daughter?” Hideki-san, in another chair, yells. “Was she on any of the footage?”
“She wasn’t among the dead, thank god,” the Director says. “She escaped with the others.”
“Here,” Mrs. Kimura tucks a badge in Mr. Hideki’s chest pocket. “She’s going to need this.”
Mr. Hideki raises the badge to his face and gapes at its number. “My daughter’s badge…h-how?”
“Let’s just say I made a new friend.” Mrs. Kimura grins, and brings her lips to his ear. “She was dead, or at least I thought she was the last time. No matter, I can bring her back.” Turning to the young man, “hook me up,” she orders. The young man attaches a cable to her tablet. She rewinds the footage and freezes it on a ponytailed girl with claws. “Interesting.”
The Director snaps his fingers at the young man to pour everyone some tea. The clock on the wall ticks over to 8AM. Mrs. Mori walks in, no longer wearing a blindfold. Scarred tissue stretches around her eyes, and two blue circles shine like two vivid points, but they don’t see. She has no pupils.
“My dear!” Mrs. Kimura lowers the tablet, and fixes her eyes on Mrs. Mori. “Fire just seems to follow you wherever you go. What a sight, ah-forgive me for using that word.” She covers a grin that stretches across her face. “Such beauty gone like that. I could do something about that skin.”
Mrs. Mori taps her cane for silence. “Where are we on the contestants?” she asks.
“Making their way to the tower as we speak,” the Director responds.
“My dear, you shouldn’t worry about the contestants when you have your family to take care of.” Mrs. Kimura sips her tea, taking a seat and folding her legs. “I’m sure your father in-law’s heart attack has left you restless.”
“His killer has been apprehended,” Mrs. Mori stares at her blankly.
“Really?” Mrs. Kimura lowers her cup. “Who was it?”
“It’s being taken care of.”
***
In a dark room, barely six feet by four, chains hang from a thick grey-stoned wall. Instead of a door, metal bars line the opening to the hollow cube of the concrete prison. There’s no sound, light, or furniture of any kind. A thick stench of festering sewage drafts in every few moments. A ponytailed girl twitches, a heavy metal chain winding all around her body. Manacles fix two rings on her neck: one attached to the chain, the other hanging from two irons reaching to her waist. A padlock secures her hands. Her eyes suddenly open and she takes in her surroundings. She can neither raise her hands to her mouth nor lower her head to her hands. Across from her, in another hollow cube concrete, another chain encircles the neck of a silver-streaked head. This boy stares at her as she struggles to break free. She catches his gaze and freezes.
“Minoru?”
He averts his eyes.
“It-it’s me, Maya. W-where are we?”
“The basement.”
“W-why are you in chains? Does your mother know? Did she put you in there?”
“I walked into it of my own free will,” he says. “To make up for my sins. What about you?”
About the Author
I’m an aspiring author and screenwriter currently living in different parts of the world. Since 2015, I’ve been travelling and experiencing collective living with friends, family and even strangers with one thing in common—meditation. I’m an active member and a volunteer for Sahaja Yoga Meditation, founded by H.H. Shri Mataji Nirmala Devi. I love traveling to SY seminars, festivals, concerts, even volunteering at schools for Inner Peace Day.
Learning about cultures, traditions, religions and even spirituality has given me perspective on my life as well as a sense of 'the self.' I try to capture all these experiences in my writing. For example, The Foragers is set in Japan, a country I visited and lived in for 3 months. I came to learn about the First Nations called Ainu. Not many people know about them, so I have menti
oned them in the series. I've also been to South Korea and witnessed the harshness of the forced military service on boys once they come of age. I portray this through another character. The Kan is actually a sixth sense/intuition that martial artists practiced in Japanese history. If you’re interested in connecting with me and reading more about how profits from paperback copies are being donated to Inner Peace, you can find the links in the next page
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