Within the Dead Space

by Hutchens, Gary

  The fact that he said Sahib wasn’t at work today gave Chaco some assurance he was hearing the truth. He reached down and helped the man to his feet. As soon as the man stood up and realized he was a head taller than his assailant, he grabbed Chaco.

  Chaco slipped from his grasp and with a vicious whip of his stick caught the man under his chin. He fell to the ground grabbing his throat. Chaco put his knee on the man’s chest and stared hard at him.

  “Is what you told me true?”

  “Yessss,” he muttered.

  “I’ll be back if it’s not. You’re lucky I didn’t kill you. Now get out of here.” Chaco ran off down the trail toward the inn.

  It was exactly where it was supposed to be with music echoing through the air. Drinking by the Moslems wasn’t allowed in Afghanistan but many of the people going to and from the inn were wobbling. Chaco worked his way through the crowd of people and began his search for Sahib. He was still wearing the Afghani attire and wasn’t being noticed. The light was poor in the inn and it took a while before he found Sahib. He was with two other friends and they appeared to be drunk. Chaco found a place near the door and waited. It was two hours later that Sahib and his friends left the inn.

  Chaco followed Sahib and his friends and confronted them in a dark area.

  “Give me back my money and I won’t kill you,” demanded Chaco.

  The three men became instantly alert. “Who’s going to kill who?” blurted out Sahib. “I thought we had already killed you.”

  Chaco noticed that two of the men had put their hands in their pockets. Sahib attacked first, but was surprised when Chaco sidestepped him and viciously hit him across the head with a three foot piece of almond wood. The other two men took a sudden step back but regained their courage quickly and came at Chaco with their knives drawn. At the right moment Chaco slid his hand down the stick and with a fast whip of his arm and wrist hit the nearest man in the head. The other man couldn’t believe what had just happened and ran off. Chaco went back to Sahib and searched his pockets for the money. He found two hundred and fifty dollars.

  Chaco took the money and Sahib’s identification papers. Maybe he could get back on the base now, he hoped.

  Chapter 58

  Chaco watched the entrance to the base for two days. He familiarized himself with the base routine. During all of this he couldn’t help but notice the endless flights of helicopters and airplanes taking off and landing twenty-four hours a day.

  On the afternoon of the third day he fell in with a group of twenty Afghans who were reporting for work. He was the fourteenth man in line. He watched the mannerisms of each and every worker as the line progressed through the security gate. The guard looked at each man’s paperwork before he walked through the security x-ray machine. Every man was thoroughly searched again by several other guards. Chaco waited his turn. The only thing he had in his pocket was the identification papers he had stolen. He had smudged the picture just enough, he hoped, to get through the gate, but not so much as to arouse suspicion. He had also learned a few words of the Afghan language.

  “Step over here” demanded the guard, “and give me your papers.”

  Chaco handed the guard his papers. A minor disagreement in the line behind Chaco caught the guard’s attention just enough for him not to question the picture.

  With a swing of his arm the guard pointed Chaco to the x-ray machine.

  So far so good, thought Chaco.

  They examined his shoes and searched his body before signaling him to enter the base.

  Chaco followed the man ahead of him and before long was out the door. He reached in his pocket to be sure the money was still there and then hurried away. He knew his way around the base and quickly searched for a hiding place.

  There it is. I’ve got a chance. He hurried forward without running. He could see several soldiers about a hundred yards away marching toward him. He slipped into the dead space that was right next to one of the aircraft hangers. It was the first time in three days he had felt safe.

  All evening from the dead space, he watched many aircraft take off and land. It had been ten hours of listening to the soldiers, maintenance crews and pilots talk about everything under the sun. Women and food seemed to have the most interest. Several of the soldiers were Marines who were ending their deployment and leaving for the states.

  It was four in the morning and there was only one cargo aircraft remaining on the tarmac. The Marines had been standing around for hours waiting for the cargo to be loaded before they could board. A few minutes later a military vehicle with two high ranking officers arrived and the soldiers jumped to attention. Immediately thereafter they formed a double line and marched into a nearby hangar. Even the maintenance crews and loaders stopped what they were doing and followed. The tarmac was empty.

  Chaco knew this was his chance and maybe his only chance. He slipped out of the dead space and ran toward the aircraft. He ran up the ramp on the back of the aircraft. It was humongous inside. There was seating in the forward section and cargo pallets were strapped to the floor throughout. He slipped behind the nearest pallet of freight and watched briefly for anyone who might be aboard. He couldn’t hear any talking or sounds whatsoever. Without delay, he searched for somewhere to hide. Many of the pallets were securely wrapped with tarps. It took time to search out a place to hide.

  Hoo Ahh, came the thundering noise of the soldiers cheering from the hangar.

  Chaco was startled. He hurried even faster. Two minutes later he heard men talking near the aircraft ramp. Chaco made his decision. He climbed on top of the pallet in the third position and crawled under the tarp. He would be able to sit and possibly lie down. One other advantage was he could see the sitting area. He had just settled in when one of the soldiers came up the ramp. He walked by Chaco toward the front of the aircraft and got a drink from a cooler and then left the aircraft.

  Chaco excitedly climbed out of his hiding place and rushed to the front. He opened the cooler and found several bags with different names on them and bottles of water. Chaco grabbed three of the larger bags and took six bottles of water. He was near the sixth pallet when the soldiers began boarding.

  Damn, I was safe, now what?

  He squeezed into a spot on the side of the pallet next to the aircraft wall and waited. Thirty soldiers walked by and most took their seats.

  “Who took my food?” screamed one of the soldiers, staring into the cooler where he had left it.

  Other soldiers rushed to the coolers to check on their own food.

  “Mine’s gone and I’m going to kill the son of a bitch that took it,” yelled a large and tough looking soldier.

  Chaco tried to fade into the smallest crack as the soldiers began making accusations against each other.

  When the sergeant heard all the commotion he came running on board. “Knock it off,” he screamed.

  Two men had already started fighting and were standing toe to toe. They didn’t hear the sergeant or for that matter didn’t want to hear him and the fight was on.

  The sergeant pushed forward trying to break it up. The confined space restricted him and by the time he had reached the two men blood had been drawn. He jumped between them and was pushed around for a minute before they came to their senses and realized what they were doing. The other men helped the sergeant to restore order.

  The pilots stood at the cockpit door and watched in disbelief.

  “These guys are crazy,” said one of the pilots. “Why in the world are we sending them home. They’ve still got fight in them. They’ve been here a year and they’re ready to kill their own.”

  Several of the Marines heard the pilots and pushed forward toward them.

  The pilots decided it was time to make an exit and shut and locked the cockpit door.

  “Anybody not strapped into their seat within two minutes is not going on this flight,” screamed the sergeant. The men rushed to their seats.

  When they had stopped bickering and were s
itting quietly the sergeant continued,” I will only remind you one time that if any unprofessional behavior is shown from this moment forward on this flight all men involved will be brought up on charges. We are Marines and we will act like Marines.”

  “Let me hear it. We Are Marines.”

  “We are Marines,” the men said quietly.

  “I said, We Are Marines.”

  One of the men jumped from his seat and yelled out, “We Are Marines,” and in seconds every Marine on board jumped from his seat and was screaming in unison, “We Are Marines.”

  The sergeant raised his arm for quiet. “We take care of our own, so share with anyone whose food is missing. Now settle back and let’s go home.”

  While all this was going on Chaco sneaked back to the third pallet with his food and water, crawled under the tarp and thought to himself, these guys are crazy.

  There was a sound of the hydraulics running and the ramp began to close. A few minutes later the engines started and before long they were barreling down the runway.

  Chaco quietly searched through one of the bags of food and found a candy bar. He leaned back in his hiding place, ate his candy bar and flew back to America.

  Chapter 59

  The skidding sound of the wheels hitting the runway wakened Chaco from a long sleep. He peeked from under the tarp and saw the men gathering their personal belongings and getting ready to depart the aircraft.

  “Oh man,” exclaimed one of the Marines, “it is so nice to be home.”

  Others nodded their heads in agreement.

  “I can’t wait to get out to the San Diego pier and see the girls,” offered another Marine. “It’s been a long time.”

  They all hurried toward the rear of the aircraft. The cargo door opened and the Marines poured out.

  San Diego, this is where I wanted to go? Chaco climbed back underneath the tarp to be sure that no one noticed him.

  Several men boarded the aircraft as soon as the Marines were off and began preparing the LD7 pallets for unloading. They pressed a button and the rollers lifted from the floor of the aircraft. The pallets could now be rolled off one at a time. Chaco had no chance to get off the pallet before he found himself rolling down the ramp and onto a waiting truck. He was transported to a receiving area in a nearby warehouse where the pallet would be unloaded.

  Chaco dared not move or make a sound. He felt the pallet under him moving again from the truck onto the warehouse floor. He felt a jolt from his pallet coming to rest against the pallet in front of him and then again as another pallet rested against his pallet. He strained his ears trying to hear any sound. The pallets rolling into the warehouse were the only sounds he could hear and after thirty minutes he dared to peek out.

  It was a gigantic warehouse with at least a hundred pallets positioned about. He looked in all directions and then crawled out of his hiding place. He could see through a side window that it was night time.

  A decision has to be made, Chaco thought. Do I sneak out of the warehouse now or wait until tomorrow and hope for the best. Without a second thought, he ran through the doorway at an opportune moment and scampered across the roadway. He hid behind a building for a minute to get his bearings.

  Up ahead Chaco saw what appeared to be the commissary and headed that direction. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on. He stayed out of the lit areas in the parking lot and searched for a vehicle that was unlocked. He found a Ford SUV and climbed in the far back and waited. A few minutes later a woman got in behind the wheel and drove off. They drove for about five minutes before clearing security and then another fifteen minutes after that. She turned off the car and climbed out. A minute later Chaco was walking away from the SUV.

  He still had money in his pocket and stopped at the first motel he came to. He had a pizza delivered and watched TV until he fell asleep.

  Chapter 60

  In the morning the motel clerk told him where he could buy some cheap clothes. It was called Goodwill and wasn’t far away.

  While changing into his new clothes he had a strange feeling and became dizzy for a few minutes. When he recovered his mind was shared with another…..Pusca, son of Athahualpa the Sapa Inca, was back.

  “This isn’t familiar,” Pusca said. “I need to get to the ocean.”

  Chaco’s control of events faded as they looked for a way to get to the beach.

  They were standing on the street corner trying to make a decision when a bus pulled up and the driver opened the door and asked, “are you taking the bus?’

  “Where are you going?” Pusca asked.

  “Downtown San Diego.”

  “I want to go to the beach.”

  “There’s a beach near downtown.”

  “Okay, we’ll go,” and Pusca climbed aboard.

  The driver looked at Pusca with an odd expression wondering what the boy meant by, ‘we’ll go.’

  ***

  Back at Miramar, the base where Chaco had flown into from Afghanistan, all hell was breaking loose. There had been a security breach and everything was locked down. No one was coming or going on base until they got some answers.

  Apparently while unloading one of the LD7 pallets from an incoming flight out of Kabul they found several empty bags of food and water bottles where someone had stowed away on the flight. The fear was that it was an Al Queda terrorist. A slow meticulous analysis of how this could have happened was underway both in Kabul and in San Diego. Homeland Security was now involved and all public forms of transportation had been placed on a high state of alert. Anyone even remotely involved in the flight was being questioned. Internally, the fear was that someone inside the military was involved.

  ***

  Pusca got off the bus at its last stop and followed the driver’s instructions to the beach. In short order he was sitting on the sea wall and trying to get his bearings. The point off to his right seemed about right but with all the buildings everything looked different. As evening approached Pusca still hadn’t determined where the ship had sunk.

  “You look lost,” said a policeman who was patrolling the beach front. “You’ve been sitting there for hours. Can I help you?”

  Without even considering that he might be giving something away Pusca said, “I was trying to determine where the Santa Cortina sunk about five hundred years ago.”

  A big smile came across the policeman’s face. “Don’t you read the papers? It’s been in the news for a month. Just about every gold seeker in the world is around these parts looking for the Inca gold. One of those salvage ships around the point out there found the Santa Cortina. People are still flooding into San Diego wanting to find the gold. We end up arresting lots of them for trespassing. One guy I was talking to was from Madagascar. Can you believe that? Madagascar. You know, I wish I was from Madagascar.” The policeman turned to walk off and then turned back and said, “I hope we don’t have to arrest you. You seem like an okay guy.”

  Pusca left immediately for the point. It was a few miles away and he wanted to get there before dark. When he arrived, the promenade was jammed packed with every imaginable kind of humanity. They were all talking about the treasure and how they were going to spend it.

  “Hey squirt, got any money?” asked a large gruff looking man who stepped in front of Pusca and impeded his route.

  “No. Get out of my way.” Pusca slightly altered his route to go around the man.

  “You little punk, I ought to squash you like a bug.”

  Pusca ignored the man and was almost by him when the man grabbed his arm.

  Effortlessly, Pusca grabbed the man’s hand in his and twisted slightly bringing the blowhard to his knees, crying out in pain. Pusca released his hand and continued on his way.

  Once the big man knew he wasn’t hurt, and realized his prestige was hanging like a limp sausage in front of all those people on the boardwalk, he chased the little shrimp who was walking away.

  “Watch out!” yelled an innocent bystander to Pusca.


  Pusca turned in time to see the thundering bull almost upon him. He turned sideways to avoid the huge man and in the same breath hit him on the side of the knee with his foot. Everybody watched the bully go sailing over the edge of the boardwalk and land in the sea. Several do-gooders rushed to the seawall to help the fallen man, while Pusca turned and continued on his way. He wasn’t about to be troubled with this nonsense.

  “Stand aside,” screamed the police as they came running. “What’s going on here?” One of the bystanders explained the situation to the police, while they watched the big bloat of a man being pulled from the sea.

  “You finally got your comeuppance, ehh big guy? I was getting tired of you pushing people around down here. I ought to run you in for harassing people…..but, it looks like you’ve got punishment enough.” The two cops finished helping pull the man back up on the seawall. He was bleeding from a gash on his head but otherwise looked okay, a bit downfallen and his ego was destroyed. The big lug of a man slithered away with his tail between his legs.

  Pusca got to the point and sat down and watched all the commotion in the bay. There were several salvage ships anchored off the point and it looked like divers were in the water.

  “I remember now...”

  Chapter 61

  The next morning he began his search for the cave. Pusca found the area where he originally came ashore five hundred years earlier. Everything was different. The entire area had been developed with buildings, condos and high-rise hotels.

  This is going to be a whole lot harder than I originally thought. I remember that it was about six-hundred steps to the cave entrance. From where I am right now I go right along the seashore for about a hundred steps.

  Pusca began walking.

  At one hundred steps I turn left for a hundred-fifty steps and then…..

  He stopped cold, a tall fence impeded his way. Not to be veered off course he climbed the fence and finished his one-hundred-fifty steps and then back right for another two-hundred steps. He was on some beautiful grounds with flowers and trails everywhere. At two-hundred steps he found a trail that led off to his left for the last one-hundred-fifty steps.