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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Hold your breath
>> Above Kahuku
Thirty-five yards down the wooded slope from where Shauny Nakamura, Imelda the Manila street kid and their new friend Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka peered from the shadows behind the rock outcropping, two men carrying automatic assault rifles (and surrounded by four dead bodies) gazed up in their direction.
The one Shauny knew as Steven -- he'd set her and Imelda and the other captives free from their prison and led them to freedom until he was apparently shot and killed -- cupped his hands to his mouth. "Shauny! Imelda! Why not just give yourselves up now and make it easier on all of us?!" Shauny lifted the Blazer R-93, the one Victor Primitivo, had tried to shoot her with, aimed it at Steven.
"Not yet," the senator whispered. "Let them get closer."
Below, Steven, aka The Chef, and Tex did some whispering of their own. "That rock outcropping," Tex said, waving his AK-47 that direction. "If they're not back of there hiding, they've made it over that ridgeline above."
"Quick way to find out."
The Chef reached into an ammo bag, removed a large pistol with a bulb attached to the barrel.
"That's a smoke canister!" the senator whispered. "Fire!"
With the Glock 9mm, the senator went for Steven, winged his shoulder and spun him around.
Braced against the solid rock prepared for a big kick, Shauny squeezed the trigger on the big rifle. Dirt kicked up at Steven's feet.
The one wearing a black cowboy hat returned fire with an Uzi and slivers of rock rained around them.
Steven was moving now, ducking behind the ATV, and the senator fired but missed the moving target.
Shauny fired again and took a chunk out of the ATV's gas tank, and it erupted in flame. Steven rolled away, still clutching the pistol. Ducking behind an old Norfolk pine stump, black hat again returned fire.
"He knows exactly where we are!" Shauny said a moment before the R-93 discharged on its own and she had to muffle a shocked scream. Unintentional, but it was her best shot and ripped a big red hole in Steven's hip, and he fell.
Good shot, but not good enough. From the ground Steven fired the pistol.
They heard the whistle of the canister, watched it tracking toward them. "Into the cave!" the senator said.
Too late. The canister exploded on the rock wall behind them and the air filled with noxious smoke. Below, Tex and his AK-47 waited for them to run from the smoke and expose themselves. All depended on how long they could hold their breath. One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi ...
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com