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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Bad odds
>> Big Island
Daren Guy was about to finish all three men off when Sushi Leclaire shouted from the beach "Hello, my darlings, I'm so glad to see you!"
That's when they heard a helicopter.
Daren bent over the three unconscious figures. With the cameraman, one of the two-inch thorns on the kiawe club had penetrated his temple and embedded in the brain; he was brain dead. With the local guide, another thorn pierced the eye, the club crushed his forehead.
The third, his long-lost cousin Virgil Root the TV outdoorsman, had managed to partially block the blow with a forearm, which had been punctured and bled profusely. The sound of Sushi and his Filipinas' laughter coming closer, Daren kicked him in the ribs and the head for good measure. He'd dispose of the bodies in the approaching lava later, after collecting Virgil's ID. The guide kid had been right, he and his cousin looked more like twins.
Five men dead so far in Daren's quest to defraud the insurance company after winning the Lotto, but none would mean a thing unless he could erase his fiance Sonya Chan from the picture. She was the final piece. Knowing he was so close to reaching his dreams, Daren went into a kind of auto-pilot.
Dropping the club, he headed down to the beach, where Sushi was helping the last of his 12 Filipinas out of the Zodiac piloted by Sonya.
"Hurry, ladies, the lava is coming this way, we have to leave before it crosses the road!" he called, not knowing it already had.
As he herded his girls up the beach, Sushi and Daren passed, paused to shake hands. "Good luck," Daren said.
"This is our little secret, right?"
"It'd better be."
And then there was Sonya, standing at the water's edge in a silver bikini, still holding that blasted spear gun.
Sonya was considering her options, too, because for her to get Daren's Lotto winnings plus the insurance money, he had to remain officially dead at least. She patted the Glock 9mm tucked into the back of her waistband.
"Hey, Babe," Daren called, a big smile on his face. "Nice to see you again. But what took so long?"
He leaned down to kiss her cheek and as he did sucker punched her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. Sonya slumped, gasping for air, leaning on the spear gun until he snatched it from her.
As she fell to the sand, Daren raised the gun like a club, poised to swing down at her head with the butt end when he heard a scream and someone knocked him over.
It was Magdalena, who was immediately joined by the other 11 screeching Filipinas as they swarmed over him, kicking and punching. Daren was a big guy, fit and strong, but one against 12?
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com