The Amok Runners

by Colin Cotterill

  ‘I have inadvertently left home without my underwear on. I washed it all this morning when I returned from my adventure and they are still damp on the line.’

  So Khin dived in wearing her staypress rayon slacks and long-sleeved salmon blouse. I followed in shorts and T-shirt. We would have won a best dressed swimmers in the Ping competition. After a short playful swim to get ourselves in the mood we began to wade close to the bank. Sissy and I went upstream, Arny and Khin, down. She’d calculated that we’d only need to go four-hundred meters in either direction. But even that is a considerable distance when you’re up to your shins in mud. We hadn’t gone much more than fifty meters before we heard Khin’s excited falsetto ‘yoohoo’ from around the bend.

  ‘This way,’ she called. ‘Over here.’

  We let the current carry us down to where Khin and Arny stood in the water staring at what could only be described as a small bump the size of a Chinese burial mound. It was criss-crossed with dead and dying vines and gnarled with weeds.

  ‘What’s that, Khin?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, it could be a very large rock,’ she replied, ‘although we aren’t anywhere close to any outcrops at all. Or it could be a structure of some kind covered in silt and earth …’

  ‘Or, it could be a little hill,’ I added.

  Khin turned to me.

  ‘Jimm, over time, a river has a habit of removing hills from its path and levelling the land. If it were just an earthen hill this close to the river I doubt it would still be in existence.’

  ‘So, what do we do?’ Arny asked.

  ‘We retrieve our packs, break out our digging equipment and dig,’ she said.

  Ten minutes later we were back at the mound pulling away the vegetation and gently digging down through the soil. It was just as well none of us was squeamish because we disturbed a menagerie of crawlers and scurriers. Sissy, who had been entrusted with a small garden trowel, was the first to hit pay dirt. We all heard the dull thud and looked up.

  ‘That sounded like gold to me,’ said Arny.

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid it isn’t going to be quite as simple as that,’ Khin warned him.

  We dug around the mystery object and, to nobody’s surprise, it turned out to be a brick. Khin produced a notebook from her pack and began to draw a diagram of the mound and the exact position of the brick in relation to it.

  ‘Khin, it’s a brick,’ I pointed out, ‘and you can be pretty sure there’ll be more where that came from.’

  Khin lifted her chin.

  ‘And I shall document each one,’ she said. ‘Let us not forget that this brick could have been forged seven hundred years ago. The last person to touch it was probably a Mangrai dynasty tradesman. We have to uncover this structure as carefully as we can to preserve its identity.’

  We worked slowly down through the mound for the entire morning. Arny went off to get cold drinks to wash down our lunch and after a brief rest we began to work into the afternoon. We were shaded by a sprawling jujube tree but by mid-afternoon the breezes had died and the temperature had hit thirty-four degrees. Our play times in the water grew longer and our skins redder. The enthusiasm of all but Khin began to wane when it grew clear that the bricks in the mound yielded no pattern whatsoever. What we had discovered was not a structure but a brick heap.

  Still, Khin was excited.

  ‘They are clearly very very early bricks,’ she told her dispirited co-workers.

  ‘From the composition and shape I’d have to say they’re certainly pre-fifteenth century.’

  ‘So, what are they doing here?’ I asked.

  ‘That is a very good question.’

  ‘No shortage of questions, that’s for sure,’ I mumbled.

  Arny, as usual, was more positive.

  ‘Are you certain it isn’t the ruins of a temple that fell down?’

  ‘It is clear that we have come to the bottom of the pile,’ Khin told him, ‘and there is no evidence of a foundation. Any stupa or edifice would have certainly collapsed onto its own base.’

  ‘Then it’s just a pile of bricks they were going to use to build something,’ Sissy suggested, ‘but the union rep didn’t like the management’s conditions and called his guys out.’

  Khin sidestepped the levity.

  ‘But look here, Sissy,’ she said, holding up a brick from the heap. ‘You can clearly see the crude mortared edging. These were once part of some edifice.’

  We watched her mind tick over.

  ‘But what could have brought them here to this heap? Why weren’t they reused in subsequent constructions? Never mind. Let’s push on. I suggest we continue our survey of the riverbank and see if there are any other topographical anomalies.’

  ‘And I suggest we go home, have a shower and a cold beer or two,’ I said.

  ‘And I second that,’ said Sissy.

  ‘But comrades, the day is still young.’

  ‘And we’re getting older by the minute,’ I said. ‘We’ve been at it since eight this morning. Give us a break, woman.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Khin said, trying to disguise the hurt on her face. ‘I apologize. Please, you have been extremely helpful, all of you. I thank you. But if you don’t mind I shall continue here whilst there is still daylight. There is much to be done.’

  ‘You sure?’ Sissy asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I feel certain I shall have some good news for you when we reunite tomorrow.’

  ‘One more day,’ I said as we walked away. ‘One more day.’

  We felt bad leaving Khin alone with her bricks but we’d really had enough dirt for one day. We waded back upstream with our packs on our heads like bearers in the Amazon. We climbed over the gate and walked back toward Khin’s house where the jeep was parked. We sat briefly atop the wall like birds and swung the ladder to the yard side. When Arny and I were down, Sissy swung it back for Khin’s return then lowered himself onto Arny’s shoulders.

  There was nothing to delay us at the house. Not even the garden latrine reached out to us for a visit. We could hold any business we had till we got home. We entered through the rear door and I noticed how strangely dark it was inside. The curtains were drawn, the front door closed with a margin of light around its frame barely showing us the way. Something was odd. Then we heard the voice. The words, spoken in unpolished northern Thai, seemed to emerge naturally from the gloom.

  ‘What kept you so long?’

  Arny squealed in surprise and Sissy turned to the back door only to be blocked by the muzzle of an automatic rifle pointed at his head. Now there was movement in the house and it was apparent there were figures lurking around the walls in the shadows. Someone pulled one of the curtains back a crack. Three men in jeans and white T-shirts were spaced around the room armed and pointing their weapons at us. Major Ketthai sat on Khin’s rolled-up mattress against the far wall.

  ‘Sit down,’ he ordered. ‘All of you.’

  ‘No chairs, pal,’ said Sissy.

  The man behind him jabbed his gun between my brother’s shoulder blades with a thump and sent him crashing forward onto his knees. Arny took hold of my hand and lowered the two of us to the concrete.

  ‘Nice piece of detective work,’ I said. ‘How did you find us?’

  The major rose athletically and strode to the centre of the room. ‘You know?’ he said. ‘I’ve never liked women who talk too much. Shut her up?’

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the white shirt behind me raise his weapon and bring it down to pistol whip the back of my head. Arny reached out and caught the full force of the blow on the back of his hand. There was a crunch as if one or two small bones had been broken but my little brother kept his arm aloft to catch a second blow.

  ‘Oh, lovely,’ said the general. ‘Family unity. We have our first hero’.

  The white shirt caught Arny another blow, this one across the ear. It should have knocked him out but he merely glared back at the young policeman, blood dribbling down his neck. I was terr
ibly proud of him but I feared he’d not be able to take another blow. It was obvious why Ketthai and his henchmen were there. It was a termination. Unless I could think of something in a hurry, none of us would be leaving Khin’s house alive. The only good news was the fact we weren’t blown away as soon as we entered. That meant there was something the invaders needed. This would buy us some time.

  The major walked to Sissy who was still on his knees, still grinning like a fool.

  ‘Where’s the Burmese?’ Ketthai asked.

  Of course, that was the loose end. They had to get rid of all of us.

  ‘Probably a lot of them in Yangon,’ Sissy smiled.

  It was the wrong time to be trying out new material. The major kicked out at Sissy who was able to sway backwards slightly and avoid the full impact of the boot. But he continued to push his luck.

  ‘You do know in Thai culture a gentleman takes off his shoes before entering a house?’

  ‘Sissy, shut up,’ I yelled in English but too late to stop him getting a painful toe poke in the ribs followed by a thump on the head from the butt of the rifle. He fell to the floor, still smiling. The back of his head was slick with blood that glistened in the light from the back door.

  The major nodded for two of his men to put down their weapons. They grabbed me by the arms and hoisted me to my feet. In my mind, the odds had just improved. Only one man with a gun trained on us now, almost an even fight. If only Arny and Sissy had been proficient in the martial arts. Body building and fashion modelling didn’t prepare a man for a moment like this. The major turned his attention to me.

  ‘You never stop being a pain in my backside, girl,’ he said. ‘Do you know how much you’ve cost me over time? How many years’ work you wasted for me with your nosing around?’

  I thought he was talking about the movie but he seemed to be focused on something else.

  ‘Do I know you?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, you know me. But you’ll know me a lot better when I’ve finished with you today.’

  ‘Did I write something?’

  He took hold of my hair roughly and reached into his back pocket. The switchblade was twenty centimetres long and flipped open with ease. It changed the format of our demise in my mind. There would be no gunshots. Three throats cut in silence, no alarm. If there was to be a move from us it had to be soon.

  ‘Remind me,’ I said. ‘I’d hate to have my throat cut without knowing why.’

  ‘Some gambling joints within three blocks of a police station,’ he said. ‘Remember that? It wasn’t well written but it was enough to get the national press involved. Enough to have my operation shut down.’

  I remembered. But I’d written it under a pseudonym and I hadn’t known who the kingpin was. I didn’t have a name. He got away with it.’

  ‘You broke the law,’ I said. ‘You deserved to get busted.’

  ‘The law’s there to be broken,’ Ketthai said.

  ‘You should have been jailed. I bet all they did was transfer you.’

  ‘Yes. To fucking Fang – the asshole of the universe. Don’t think I haven’t been waiting for the chance to thank you for that.’

  ‘And look at you. Six years later and you’re still killing and breaking all the laws you swore to uphold.’

  ‘And you couldn’t resist the temptation to come up and take me on again, could you?’

  He’d got it in his paranoid mind that this was some sort of vendetta on my part.

  ‘I had no idea who you were,’ I said.

  ‘Liar. You thought you’d just walk in and do your spying and nobody would notice?’ he said. ‘You’re hopeless. One of my boys made you that night you went to see the director. He remembered you from Chiang Mai. You didn’t even have the sense to put on glasses and a false wig.’

  He looked up at his men who were obliged to laugh at his joke. It wasn’t the wisest move to antagonize a homicidal police major holding a switchblade but I needed time.

  ‘I’m hopeless?’ I said. ‘How many times did you try to kill us or set us up? Talk about incompetent.’

  The major was calm again. He knew it would soon be over. For his own amusement he began to hack off my hair close to the scalp with his blade. I was very touchy about my hair.

  ‘I delegated,’ he said. ‘And when you delegate you send the best men you’ve got. And from a place like Fang the best wouldn’t get a job peddling a tricycle taxi in Bangkok. That’s why I came in person today. To get the job done right.’

  ‘Hear that, guys?’ I said casually. ‘Your boss thinks you haven’t got the brains to drive a samlor. Bet that makes you feel good.’

  I got a knee in my side for the effort.

  ‘Delegating someone to kill for you still counts as murder in this country,’ I said. ‘It’s called solicitation. That makes you accountable for the deaths. Are you going to kill me too?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But not until after we’ve defiled you. Look, let’s make this easier. All I need to know is where the Burmese went. Then we can wrap things up neatly and all go home.’

  He shifted his attention to our weakest link. For Arny’s benefit he mimed the sweep of his blade across my throat. He laughed and glared at my brother.

  ‘You don’t want me to cut your sister’s head off, do you now?’ the major asked.

  ‘No,’ said Arny.

  ‘Then all you have to do is tell me where the Burmese is.’

  ‘Here,’ came a voice.

  From that moment we could really have done with a slow motion camera to appreciate the events that took place and the speed at which they occurred. Khin appeared at the back door with a brick in either hand. In a remarkably well coordinated effort she smashed them onto the heads of the two men holding me and they dropped to their knees. Sissy and I crashed into the major at about the same time causing him to fall against the wall and drop the blade. Arny kicked the armed white shirt in the balls. He doubled over and lowered his weapon. This gave Khin time to dig two fingers into his eye sockets and take the gun. By the time the cops had gathered themselves they already had weapons trained on them and were having their hands tied with site marking string. To put down any idea of a resurrection, Khin released the safety and fired a round into the wall above the policemen’s heads. Masonry rained down on them. By then Sissy was already using her phone to call the CCC.

  When the military unit arrived at the house in Wieng Kum Kam they found four men tied with string and three new bruises on the ribs of Major Khettai. A lot has been said to the detriment of gratuitous violence. There are arguments that the hardest but most satisfying reaction to abuse is to forgive. But whoever wrote that obviously hadn’t been held up at gunpoint and terrorized. Defile me, would you? There is something healing about landing a good kick at the torso of a bully and all of us but Khin had allowed ourselves that unforgiving luxury while we waited for backup.

  Once the police had been carted off, the amok runners sat on the garden wall watching the smudgy sun set beyond the river. The birds went into a frenzy as if they’d just noticed the day was coming to an end and there were a hundred things still to do.

  ‘All right,’ Sissy said, ‘I’ve got one question.’

  ‘Only one?’ I said.

  ‘How did they know we were here in Wieng Kum Kam?’

  ‘Maybe the taxi driver spotted us and did his civic duty by phoning it in,’ I said. ‘Wouldn’t be surprised if the major put out a reward.’

  ‘Maybe they put a magnet tracer on the Suzuki,’ said Arny.

  ‘When?’ Sissy asked.

  ‘Probably the day we showed ’em how smart we were by driving to Fang police headquarters with the press,’ I said.

  ‘I thought Thai police were technologically challenged.’

  ‘They watch TV,’ I reminded him. ‘That’s probably how they found us when we drove up to the temple that evening too.’

  ‘They didn’t find “us”, Jimm,’ said Sissy. ‘It was Miss Super Investigative Journalist they we
re after. Nobody wanted to kill me. I was an innocent bystander.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘Sorry about that.’

  We moved to the Suzuki seats. We were still numb from events so we couldn’t feel the mosquitoes.

  ‘I think we were pretty exceptional,’ I said.

  ‘Khin was the star,’ said Sissy, switching to English.

  ‘I’m going to embroider her a belt,’ I said.

  Khin had been on another planet since the ambush, floating in her own thoughts.

  ‘Khin!’ I shouted.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m going to embroider you a belt.’

  ‘Saying?’

  ‘Two at one blow.’

  ‘I’d rather not get a reputation for knocking down policemen,’ she said.

  ‘Why not? The legend would spread out of control and the Burmese junta would tremble in their boots at the very sound of your name. You’d be the masked avenger with no respect for uniforms.’

  ‘As with most impetuous acts, the results were greater than the sum of the thought that went into them,’ she said. ‘I merely brought back the brick samples to compare them with the images in my text book. I hadn’t planned to lay low thugs with them. But I must say you have something of a gift for violence yourself.’

  ‘Mair raised me a tomboy. There was a mix-up at home. I got the male genes and Sissy got all my female ones. Plus I have a sort of pet hate about men poking guns into the back of my head. Why did you come back so soon, by the way?’

  ‘Back to the house?’

  ‘Yes. You told us you’d be staying down at the river till it got dark.’

  ‘I simultaneously had a revelation and a recollection,’ she said. ‘I needed to check my notes. There was something from the reign of King Khoi of the seventeenth century. The mention of a beacon mid-river that marked the boundary of Wieng Kum Kam. May I invite you to join me in a little research?’

  ‘Lead the way, my guru.’

  After her heroic deeds I’d developed an even keener respect for her and was prepared to indulge her in the treasure fantasy for one more day. I followed her inside to the living room where two large cardboard boxes had been overturned in the melee. Paperwork was sprawled across the floor.