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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Terror of tomorrow
>> Above Kahuku
Staring into total darkness, Shauny Nakamura lay on the air mattress in her tiny pen, the terror that tomorrow would surely bring keeping her awake. So too did the sound of crying up and down the hall outside her pen. Shauny refused to participate.
There would be time later for tears, probably. Now she needed her wits about her. She also needed sleep because the man who seemed to be their leader said it would help, for a while, that she was a runner. Shauny tried to put a positive spin on it -- tomorrow would be part of her training for the Kolekole Pass Half-Marathon.
At last she did fall into a deep sleep, for longer than it seemed when she was startled awake by the sound of metal bolts clanking and a door swinging open. The lights went on, Shauny squinted against the sudden bright.
"Put on your sandals!" a male voice whispered urgently. A voice she didn't know. "Now!"
A pair of Velcro-fastened sandals lay on the metal grate beside the mattress. Shauny slipped them on, fastened them tight, ready to run.
"We have to be quick! But I can get you away from these cannibals!"
"Cannibals?!" someone said.
The man hurried past the barred gate of her pen, a set of keys jangling in his hand. "Yes, cannibals! That's after they're done with the ritualistic human sacrifice!"
"I'm going to unlock your cages, one by one, and you must follow me! That is your only hope of escaping!"
By the time the man opened the gate to her pen, a dozen people followed. Men, women, whites, blacks, Orientals, thin and fat, tall and short, mostly young but one older gent.
Each, like Shauny, was naked except for the sandals, a thin blanket, an electronic dog collar around their necks, and on their faces looks of fear and hope and confusion. Clutching the blanket around her, Shauny got in line as the man quickly opened the remaining cages. A tall young hapa man with beautiful, almost feminine features stepped from the cage two down from her's.
"You must be 'the anti-war chap,'" she whispered as he got in line behind her.
"Shush!" their rescuer said.
The young man nodded. He looked fit, like he could run. If it came to it, they could team up.
"OK," the man said when the last cage had been opened and a Filipina of no more than 14 emerged with tears in her eyes. "Follow me, keep up, don't make a sound. If they catch us, we're all dead."
Shauny took the girl by the hand. The eastern horizon was just turning light as they were led from the trailer, past a stable, toward a pasture and beyond to where the cover of forest beckoned.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com