“Down,” Ahmed whispered, dropping to the ground. We flattened beside him and watched.
The driver jeered at the animals, poking one of them with a probe that sparked when it touched him. The bear jerked backward and mewled. The men laughed.
“Creeps,” Sarafina hissed, clenching her fists in the dirt.
I was sickened by the pleasure the men took, and felt a sudden desire to use the sparking stick on them to see how much they liked it. I shook my head to clear the thought. I’d never wanted to hurt anyone before and it made me uncomfortable. But when the man walked over to the bamboo cage and did the same thing to the mama bear, I felt a tingle of energy from the mini in my backpack and the emotion returned. I allowed it to linger and finally understood what the makers of the pyramids had seen as the flaw of the human race. Violence was a part of our nature, whether it was from nasty men who took joy in the pain of a helpless creature—or in the children who witnessed it.
I felt Sarafina’s gentle touch. “We’ll find a way to stop them,” she said, and a part of me wondered if she was reading my mind. “We need to follow the truck.”
“Yes,” I said, watching the men below as they backed the truck up into the clearing and used a built-in crane to lower the empty metal cage beside the bamboo cage. The bear roared and swiped at the men, her claws slashing across the bamboo. But the men barely flinched. When the entrances were lined up, they lifted the bamboo gate and used the prods to jolt the bear, each touch rippling the muscles beneath her fur and triggering a whimper. She lurched into the new cage and the door clanked closed behind her.
A few minutes later, the truck and its live cargo made its way back to the road and disappeared into the trees. There was movement in the surrounding brush and I caught a glimpse of the two younger bears running after it.
“Hurry,” Sarafina said, taking my hand and starting down the hill. The others followed, and when we reached level ground we ran as fast as we could. We rushed across the clearing, through the trees, and onto the dirt road, finding ourselves on a promontory overlooking a rolling forested valley. Mountains rose in the distance. The road was mostly hidden as it twisted and turned through the trees. The sounds of the truck were faint.
“There,” Timmy said, pointing to an exposed hairpin turn.
The truck lumbered down the hill, and my mind’s eye tracked its probable course into the endless canopy of trees. That’s when I saw it.
“Look,” Ahmed said, beating me to the punch. He pointed to where columns of smoke snaked through the trees, drifting together to form a faint cloud that stretched above the tree line.
Two hours later we were huddled on a ridge above a farm. A grand, three-story, pagoda-style house with smoke coming from its chimneys was situated on a slight rise overlooking a cluster of older wooden structures, including a long building with wide entrances at either end that looked like a kennel of some sort. There were also a barn, two barracks, and several smaller shacks. An orchard of red flowers climbed up and over the hillside beyond, and people were working the fields. Others milled around the buildings and most had rifles strapped to their shoulders. Alongside the long building were scattered vehicles, including a tractor, a couple older cars, an SUV, and two trucks, including the one from the clearing.
“The bears are still on the truck,” Sarafina said.
Ahmed said, “There are more over there.” He pointed to the near end of the long building where several other bears were caged.
“Yeah,” Timmy said. “But it’s not like we can do anything about it. There are armed guards everywhere.”
“Why are there so many?” Sarafina asked. “It’s not like the bears are going to get away.”
“They’re not there for the bears,” Ahmed said. “It’s because of the poppies.”
“Of course,” Timmy said. “Opium.”
“They grew poppies near my village in Afghanistan,” Ahmed added. “And we knew never to go near. Poppy growers shoot first and ask questions later.”
Sarafina sniffled. Her eyes were moist. “But what are they going to do to the bears?”
A man and a woman wearing coveralls walked over to inspect the four new cages. One of the men from the truck followed closely behind. After a quick inspection, the woman nodded. The three men grabbed their gear and rifles and strode toward the barracks. The couple put on gloves, turning their backs on the truck and the other caged bears as they proceeded into the long building. As soon as they entered, a chorus of mewling sounds echoed from within.
The mama bear and the other three bears on the truck raised their heads as one, all looking toward the building. They clawed and gnawed at the bars of their cages.
“Oh my God,” Sarafina gasped.
The mewling got louder and I could imagine rows of caged bears inside. Their cries were agonizing. I spun around when I felt another prickle at my neck but no one was there. My mind was playing tricks on me. Under the circumstances, I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“We have to do something,” Sarafina said. “Besides, we need one of those vehicles.”
“We can’t,” Timmy said.
My sister’s expression flared but Ahmed shushed her before any outburst could happen. He took her arm and urged her back down the hill. Timmy and I followed. When we were out of sight of the farm, we gathered under a stand of trees.
Sarafina put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean?”
“Do I really have to explain?” Timmy said. “Think about it. Those are armed guards down there. Like your brother said, they’d shoot us, dump us in a ditch, and think nothing of it. We have no clue what’s going on inside those buildings, and even if we did, what could we possibly do about it? Besides, we’ve got a mission of our own.” He pointed in the opposite direction. “To hike that way and find your parents and Tony and the others. And in the meantime, it’s my job to keep you safe. So mingling with a gang of sadistic Chinese drug farmers in order to help some bears is simply not going to happen. Just forget about it.”
But I could tell my sister wasn’t going to. It wasn’t in her nature. If someone needed help, she’d be there for them. Ahmed wasn’t much different, and I guess I wasn’t, either. It’s the way my mom had raised us while my dad was in a coma, and it’s the way my dad had acted every day of his life since. The three of us stood side by side in front of Timmy. He crossed his arms and his lips became a thin line.
After several moments, Ahmed said, “You’re right. Sarafina and Alex can’t go down there.”
Timmy blew out a breath.
“It’s not safe,” Ahmed said, facing my sister and motioning toward me. “Especially for Alex. So you’re going to have to watch over him while Timmy and I go down to take care of business.”
Sarafina sighed, but she nodded and took my hand.
“What?” Timmy asked.
Ahmed turned to face him. “I respect that you wish to protect us, to stand with us as we face down the challenge that has been set before us.” He spoke as if elders from his childhood guided his words, as if he were still part of an Afghan warrior tribe determined to fight back against ill treatment from the West. “The loyalty you have shown to our father and to us does you great credit, and you have long since become part of our family because of it. We are honored and fortunate to have you with us.”
He placed a hand on Timmy’s shoulder, standing slightly taller than him, and it was in that moment I began to see my brother as an adult.
“But don’t be fooled by our ages,” Ahmed continued. “We are warriors in our own right and have proven ourselves as such in the past, each of us using our different talents to do what was necessary, guided by our love for one another and the lessons we have been taught by our father and mother. Those lessons have served us well, and it is in situations such as this one that we must rely on them the most. So I ask you,” he said, squeezing Timmy’s shoulder, “what do you think our father would do?”
The question seemed to hang in the air. When Timm
y’s jaw dropped open, I knew the answer had just hit him in the head.
“Oh, crap,” he said.
Chapter 23
Fujian Province
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 back 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.
Chapter 24
Fujian Province
“OH, NO!” I SAID. I watched one of the remaining guards open the trunk of the SUV and begin placing the duffels of money inside. Another guard held the rear passenger door open for the boss man, who seemed to be giving instructions to the couple. If the SUV moved, my brother and Timmy were dead.
“We have to do something,” Sarafina said, her voice shaking. She lowered her binoculars and glanced desperately at the scene, as if pleading for a solution to present itself.
I lowered my glasses and pushed down a surge of panic so my mind could process it all. The men below were all bunched up around the car, and it reminded me of the kind of challenges I’d faced in video games. In the game Fallout, the main character is able to throw objects to attract attention. “We need a distraction,” I said.
Sarafina frowned and then pulled the binoculars back to her eyes. She swept them from the SUV to the near end of the building and back again. Finally, she stuffed the lenses in her pack and said, “Stick close behind me, and when I tell you, we’re going to have to run as fast as we can.” Her chin quivered but her eyes were filled with resolve.
It wasn’t until I went to put my binoculars away that I realized I was holding the softball-sized case housing the mini in my other hand. I must have pulled it out of the pack when I panicked. That I’d done so unconsciously scared the heck out of me.
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