Gifted, a Brainrush Novella

by Richard Bard

  Chapter 8

  WE WAITED UNTIL NIGHTFALL, each of us taking a turn keeping a lookout. It was dark and sticky by the time we were all up and ready to go. Insects swarmed around our faces. Several had already bitten me, though for some reason they didn’t seem to like my sister. I guess boy’s blood tastes better to them.

  Sarafina and I lay on our bellies on the ridge overlooking the farm. We used binoculars to watch Ahmed and Timmy as they shuffled through the shadows from one tree to another. They hesitated behind the last row of shrubs before the dirt road. The ground had been cleared beyond that. The truck was parked about thirty feet in front of them. The cargo bed was empty; the four bear cages had been moved beside the others near the end of the long building. Light spilled from the wide doorway and I aimed the binoculars at the cage with Mama Bear. She shifted uneasily, her gaze fixed inside the structure, an occasional whine from within capturing her attention. The couple wearing coveralls had left the building an hour ago, returning to the big house. The people working the fields had been picked up by an old bus and most of the guards had retired to the barracks area. Smoke drifted from their chimneys and I could smell food. It made my stomach grumble. A few guards were still on patrol.

  Timmy darted across the road toward the truck and I swung the glasses back around to watch. Ahmed covered him with his pistol, then followed a moment later and the two of them huddled in the truck’s shadow.

  “Say a prayer,” Sarafina whispered.

  I’d already said ten. My muscles twitched. Our part of the plan was simple—as soon as they started the truck’s motor, we were going to run down the opposite side of the ridge and meet them at the first bend in the road. But the last thing we wanted was a high-speed chase, so they had to disable the other vehicles first. That’s the part that scared me the most.

  Timmy crept to the driver’s door while Ahmed kept watch from behind the truck. I followed his gaze through the binoculars and spotted the guard who patrolled this side of the farm. He was a good ways off and still hadn’t turned around for his return trip. They’d timed their approach based on his routine. Timmy opened the door and climbed inside the cab. His silhouette was highlighted by a lamp attached to the outside of the building. He pulled down the visor and then twisted and turned in the seat. Then he ducked out of sight as if looking in the footwell. Finally, he crawled out of the cab and crouched beside Ahmed. Timmy’s hands danced in the air and it looked like they were having an angry conversation.

  “Oh, no,” Sarafina said. “He couldn’t find the keys.”

  Sticking to the shadows, Ahmed and Timmy rushed to the second truck, and this time both of them checked the cab. A few moments later they were scrambling toward the cars parked at the other end of the building. There were two older cars and a big SUV.

  “Please, please, please,” Sarafina whispered.

  We knew the keys might not be there, but we had a simple contingency plan in that case.

  Abort.

  I followed their movements as they split up, Timmy checking the first car while Ahmed checked the second. I focused on my brother as he searched the car. His movements appeared urgent but controlled, and I felt a swell of pride at his courage. But he slid out of the car empty-handed and I could imagine his frustration. As he scurried to the last vehicle—the SUV—it was like I was right there with him, desperately hoping we’d find a set of keys, hearts pounding, grateful for the shadows that covered our movements. Timmy was already there, crouching by the open driver door, his hands sweeping the interior. Then he pulled himself out of the car and shook his head, motioning in our direction. Ahmed’s head dropped. He nodded, and the two of them crept to the rear of the SUV to make sure the coast was clear for their dash back. I panned the binoculars and saw the guard had started his return trip. He was still far enough away that the darkness should hide their escape, but only if they hurried.

  When I swept the binoculars back, Ahmed and Timmy took off running.

  A squelch from a walkie-talkie drew my attention to the near side of the building, where a second guard rushed into the entrance. A moment later two sharp bursts sounded from an alarm horn and the floodlights came on.

  The entire area surrounding the structures was suddenly bathed in light. Ahmed and Timmy were in plain sight, and for an instant it seemed as if they’d been frozen in place.

  “No!” Sarafina said.

  Ahmed dropped to all fours and scrambled back to the temporary cover of the SUV. Timmy was right on his heels. With nowhere else to hide, they rolled under the vehicle and buried themselves in its shadows. I held my breath as the barracks door swung open and guards streamed out with assault rifles. They split into pairs and jogged in different directions, each pair positioning themselves at strategic spots around the area.

  The guard who’d set off the alarm ran out of the long building and joined his comrades. The scene reminded me of online clan wars in my video game, where one side established defensive positions as they waited for the other team to show up. But the men’s movements lacked the urgency I would have expected, and I had a growing hope that the alarm had nothing to do with my brother and Timmy. When I saw four of the guards station themselves in the parking area with their backs to the SUV, I breathed a little easier.

  A stocky man wearing Western clothes exited the pagoda and stood with his hands on his hips. I focused the lens and saw he was an older Chinese man with a droopy mustache and long goatee. He surveyed the area, and from the way the guards seemed to stiffen when he appeared, I guessed he was the boss. The couple in coveralls I’d seen earlier appeared behind him, and the three of them strode to the parking area.

  Even though our position was outside the range of the floodlights, we flattened ourselves and edged back until only the tops of our heads peeked over the ridge.

  “What are we going to do?” my sister muttered, more to herself than to me. She knew I didn’t have any answers. So we watched. And waited.

  Two guards had positioned themselves near the far end of the road. One of them raised a walkie-talkie to his lips, and the guards in the parking area brought their weapons to the ready position. The guards positioned behind the structures also brought their guns to bear, sliding behind cover. Headlights popped into view and a big car and a van turned onto the far end of the road, pulling to a stop when the two lead guards held their hands up. One stood guard while the other conversed with the driver. The tinted windows rolled down and the guard gave a cursory look inside. Then the side door of the van slid open. The guard peeked inside. Satisfied, he spoke into the walkie-talkie and waved them through.

  My stomach went queasy when the two vehicles parked next to the SUV that Ahmed and Timmy were hiding beneath. Six armed men exited and took up defensive positions around the van, and I could imagine my brother’s heart in his throat as he watched their boots walk past. The men were dressed in fatigues and moved like a military squad. Once they were in place, a white-haired man in an officer’s uniform stepped out of the car and strode to the back of the van, where the boss man and the couple greeted him with short bows. They exchanged a few words and the officer motioned for his guards to open the rear door of the van. The guard reached inside, brought out three duffels, and set them on the ground. The couple examined the contents and nodded to the boss man. An order was issued and a forklift appeared around the far corner of the long building. It carried a pallet stacked four feet high with plastic-wrapped bricks. All of the farm guards left their hidden positions to accompany it. From the way they held their weapons, I could tell they were ready for trouble. The military guys tensed as well.

  “Opium,” Sarafina whispered. “They’re selling it.”

  We watched as both sides squared off while the drugs were loaded into the van. I felt a spark of hope that everything would soon return to normal and Ahmed and Timmy could escape and we could get far away from this place. Five minutes later, the van doors closed, tentative bows were exchanged, and the new arrivals climbed b
ack into their vehicles and sped away, leaving clouds of dust. The farm guards shouldered their weapons.

  My sister blew out several short huffs and I could tell she was trying to hold back tears of relief. I had to lower the binoculars to wipe my own eyes. But when I looked through the lens again, a chill raced up my spine.