by Richard Bard
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 Timmy’s jaw dropped open, I knew the answer had just hit him in the head.
“Oh, crap,” he said.
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 did
n’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 9
“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.
I could have killed us all...
I put it away and tightened the straps on my backpack. My heart was thudding so hard I thought it might burst.
“You ready?”
I nodded.
She pushed to a crouch and moved quickly down the path Ahmed and Timmy had taken down the hill. I stuck to her heels. She hesitated when we reached the trees along the edge of the road. We were directly across from the front entrance of the building, less than thirty steps from the bear cages. A couple of the bears lifted their heads and looked in our direction. One of them was Mama Bear, and I sent a silent prayer she’d remain calm. She lowered her head but her eyes seemed glued on me.
“We’re going to run into the building,” Sarafina said, taking a deep breath. “Then we’re going to set off the alarm and turn off the floodlights. Then we run back up the hill.”
It was a smart plan. Ahmed and Timmy should be able to make it to the tree line in the confusion, and then we could all get away from here.
Sarafina hesitated. “Uh...maybe you should stay here.”
My scowl told her no.
“Yeah, I figured,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go!”
My sister was on the track team at school. She ran so fast, it felt like my feet wanted to leave the ground as she pulled me with her. Mama Bear rose to her feet and chuffed as we sped past the cages and stopped inside the building.
The sight that greeted us tore my stomach to shreds, and the stench nearly sent me into convulsions.
“Dio mio,” Sarafina said, taking shelter in her native language.
My brain soaked in the sight in an instant. Long rows of wire cages lined short shelves on either side of the building, and the prone bears inside looked over at us with pleading eyes, unable to move because the cages were barely larger than the bears themselves. Their faces were scarred from rubbing against the rusty wires, their claws broken, teeth missing. Gutters of dirty water flowed beneath the cages to remove pee and waste but remnants remained. The odor mingled with the smell of rotting flesh.
And fear.
“We have to free them,” Sarafina said.
But I knew we couldn’t. They’d been here too long; they probably couldn’t even walk. When she reached for the latch on one of the cages I stopped her, and she stared at me with tear-filled eyes.
“It’s too late,” I said, shaking my head.
There was a bench with hypodermic needles, tubes, medical equipment, and jars of black liquid. The swollen abdomens and implanted metal probes on the animals told me that something was being taken from their insides. A pallet in the center of the space was stacked with the carcasses of several bears that had apparently been killed to make room for the new batch outside. I thought of Mama Bear being stuffed into the tiny cage and I felt a swell of rage like I’d never experienced before. These animals were being tortured, and it made me want to punish the people responsible.
One of the bears let out a soft whine that tugged at me. Several others joined in, and suddenly the building echoed with their pitiful cries. The noise whipped us into action. I wiped my eyes, buried my anger, and we ran to the alarm panel. Sarafina pulled on the Plexiglas enclosure protecting it. It wouldn’t budge, secured by an electronic touch pad. Our plan wasn’t going to work. There was movement at the opposite end of the building, and we ducked to one side as the woman and two guards entered the doorway.
“Look!” I whispered, pointing to an electrical panel not far from where we huddled. It was higher than I could reach, but Sarafina crept toward it and yanked on the lever.
The interior of the building went dark.
The woman shouted an order as she and the guards exited the far side of the building and disappeared around the corner. They needed to check the electrical panel that we were huddled under, so I imagined a guard running along the well-lit exterior of the building in order to enter from this end.
“Come on,” Sarafina said, taking my hand. We ran in a crouch toward the caged bears clustered outside, huddling between two of them. All seven of the bears shifted to face us. A few low growls made my insides vibrate, but something about the way Mama Bear looked at me set me at ease. I opened my mind, and she blinked as we made the connection.
It was different than the links I’d made with my family, or with others like Mississippi Mike, where I could sometimes hear their thoughts. With Mama Bear it was more of a transfer of emotions. I sensed her fear but also her trust. So I tested our bond, first embracing her with my thoughts, sending feelings of family and safety and caring for her cubs. Then I asked her to lie down. Her nose wriggled as if she was sniffing my scent, and then she slowly lowered herself to the floor of her cage.
It worked!
It gave me an idea, but it frightened me. We could get hurt. Or worse. But what choice did I have? The area was lit by floodlights, and though we were well hidden among the cages, I was afraid that as soon as the guard turned the corner, he’d notice the bears all staring at us. How could I get them to ignore us?
If we sit down and close our eyes, would the bears turn away?
I knew it was a stupid thought the moment it came out, and it reminded me of the time I put a bucket over my head during a game of hide-and-seek. If I can’t see you, you can’t see me, right? Blah!
The mewling sounds in the building died away, and that’s when I heard the SUV’s engine start up. Sarafina stiffened beside me. If the car pulled away, my brother and Timmy would be discovered.
I stopped thinking and reached for the latch on Mama Bear’s cage.
Sarafina’s sharp intake of breath didn’t stop me. “Stay behind me,” I whispered, pulling out the hooks that held the side panel in place. She shuffled over. Her breath was on my neck.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I ignored her, sliding open the cage door, my focus entirely on Mama Bear. She crouched less than five feet away, her shoulders bunched, her black eyes locked on mine. The other bears quieted.
