The Brittle Limit, a Novel (17 page)

Two armed men guarded the gate. Andrew
watched as the guards played dice and drank themselves into
oblivion, glancing behind them occasionally, as these activities
were forbidden. After a couple hours of heavy drinking, they fell
asleep, leaning against the flimsy bamboo fence.

Andrew waited, to be certain everyone was
asleep. The camp was quiet. The torches burned in the sleepy
wind.

He started down from his perch.

Flimsy and poorly built, the bamboo fence
offered little protection, meant only to dissuade forest animals.
The camp occupants had not expected visitors. They had set up camp
far from the road for privacy. Andrew wanted to know why.

Once inside the fence, Andrew moved in the
direction of Rith’s hut. He eyed the sleeping guards but they were
out cold.

Andrew stepped in to the open doorway of the
hut and surveyed the room. He heard heavy snoring from a figure on
the mat in the corner. On a desk by an open window, he saw several
weapons, a pistol and a machine gun. Andrew walked to the desk.

There he saw also a book, creased open to its
middle, the pages worn from heavy reading. Andrew picked it up and
flipped through it. The text was Khmer script, about fifty pages
thick, no images, just text.

Placing the book open on the desk, Andrew
pulled out his secure phone and took photos, turning the pages
quickly and quietly.

Andrew had photographed half of the pages
when he realized the snoring behind him had stopped. Too late he
felt the presence and turned just as a sharp ax came down on his
left shoulder. The blade cut through his backpack strap and his
light jacket. Andrew wrenched away before it cut deeper, and
knocked the weapon to the floor.

He turned and punched Rith hard across the
chin and kicked out his knee, then raced toward the unguarded
window. Rith yelled out to his guards, who roused from their
stupor.

From the other tents, the men heard the alarm
and raced out to join the chase. A few were fast, faster than
Andrew and one of them tackled him, knocking Andrew to the ground.
Andrew held on to his attacker and rolled right to avoid the
onslaught of others charging toward him. He rolled into the cooking
fire, which still had red coals hot enough to burn the soldier’s
bare back. As the man felt the coals burn into his flesh, he
released his own grip on Andrew, screaming in pain.

Andrew ran now toward the gate, but got only
a few steps farther before the next shadowy figure tackled him,
grabbing his wounded shoulder, causing Andrew to yelp in pain.
Andrew whirled around, grabbing his gun from the small of his back,
and shot his attacker, who fell to the ground.

Reaching the gate, which was lower than the
wall by a couple feet, Andrew jumped to grab hold of the top. Shots
rang out as the men fired in Andrew’s direction, the sound echoing
in the night. It was dark and the shots pinged left. Andrew threw
himself over the gate and ran into the jungle.

Behind him, he heard the gate roll open
behind him and swift footsteps as the men fanned out into the
forest. These guards had spent the past year living in this forest.
They knew the terrain. There would be few places for Andrew to
hide.

*******

Andrew pushed his way through the underbrush.
He’d covered about four hundred yards, but without any guiding
moonlight, he wasn’t even sure what direction he was going. The
guards pressed behind him, yelling to each other in Khmer. They
were younger than he was. Faster. It would only be a matter of time
before they caught him.

As Andrew ran forward in the dark, he tripped
and fell, his boot caught on something. He pulled at it, but the
lace was caught. He felt around then flicked on his flashlight. A
metal bar protruded from a round stone structure. His bootlace loop
had caught the end. He reached to untangle himself. The guards’
yells were louder.

He heard a voice directly behind him.

“Howdy fella.”

Andrew turned, shining his light at the
voice. He saw an elderly white man, wearing a faded Yankees ball
cap, staring at him.

“If you’ll come with me, I’ll get you
somewhere safe. Quick now. You’ve created quite a ruckus.”

Andrew’s options were few. He stood and
followed the man, who moved with knowledge and ease through the
dark brush.

Chapter 20

Severine stopped by the orphanage in the
morning. She knew Andrew was in Mondulkiri and she was anxious for
news, but all she could do was wait. She walked in to the
courtyard.

Normally at this time, the children would be
enjoying morning recess, playing loudly. But instead the kids were
seated in small quiet groups, talking. A couple children cried.
Severine spotted Kolab standing in a courtyard corner by the
tallest tree, talking on the phone. When Kolab saw Severine, she
hung up. Severine walked to her. The children watched.

“Kolab, what is going on?”

Kolab wrung her hands. “They’ve taken
Samnang.”

“What are you talking about? Who has?”

“I don’t know. Two men came in, they had
guns. They looked at all the children. Then they took Samnang with
them.” Kolab was dressed in her nightgown and her black hair,
usually braided down her back, hung loose on her shoulders.

Severine felt sick.

“Did they say anything? Did they say why they
took her?”

“They saw her necklace. They tried to take it
from her but she screamed. So they took her.”

Severine tried to remember a necklace but
couldn’t.

“What necklace?”

“It was a trinket on a string. It was not
even pretty. A broken piece of clay or stone on a chain.

Severine’s throat constricted. “Where did she
get it?”

“From Ben. Ben gave it to her for her
birthday last week.”

Chapter 21

The dirt road through the slums by Wat Steung
Meanchey was pitted from the combination of heavy rain and heavy
traffic. Metal shacks lined the streets. Inside, fires cast sad
light on meager dinners.

It was after 9:00 PM, but barefoot children
still played in the road. They scattered like roaches as the
tuk-tuk approached, its lone headlight shining bright. The driver
Kiem slowed to a stop in front of a yellow three-story house set
back from the street. He turned back to his passenger.

“We are here, Miss Severine.”

A heavy-set guard with close-cropped black
hair sat outside on the concrete stoop, leaning against the wall,
half-asleep. He opened one keen eye when he heard the tuk-tuk
approach and then the other when its engine cut off in front of the
house. He shifted his gun in his thick hand and waited.

The street smelled of glue. Across the street
from the yellow house, several young men sat on the floor of a
shack, working in dim light with their hands, their fingers
turning, lifting, bending. Severine saw they were making
flip-flops, cutting and pasting the pieces together. The men, high
on fumes, were oblivious to her.

The guard called out and Kiem nodded to him
as he took off his helmet.

Severine asked “What did he say?”

“He asked why we are here. He knows who you
are, Miss Severine.”

Severine stepped down from the tuk-tuk and
took several steps forward to approach the guard. She’d seen him
around town at the clubs. His name was Cho. She knew he did
security for a couple local gangsters. He was a brute with a
reputation for unwarranted violence.

“If you know me, you know I want Samnang. She
is my responsibility. I have money to give for her release.”
Severine lifted a plastic bag above her head, her bare white arm
gleaming in the light.

A second guard emerged from the yellow house
and glanced at the street and Severine. The two guards conferred.
The second guard yelled to Kiem, who listened and translated,
twisting his soft hat in his hands.

“He says give them the money and they will
bring it to Heang.”

Severine shook her head.

“No. I will only give the money to Heang in
exchange for Samnang...”

The guard interrupted her, letting loose an
angry string of guttural sounds that encompassed the entirety of
Khmer profanity. He took several quick long strides forward to
Severine, his arm raised. Severine backed away, stepping on a loose
stone in the road, nearly losing her balance.

A large, broad-shouldered man appeared in the
doorway and spoke a single word. The guard stopped in his tracks
and his shoulders slumped. He stomped off down the road like a
petulant child. Severine breathed a sigh of relief as she watched
the angry guard fade into the night.

“You are Heang,” Severine said and bowed low,
her white hands folded in front of her forehead, as she bent
forward. She stood upright. “I am here for Samnang. I have money
for her, a lot of money.” She opened the plastic bag and took out a
bound stack of fifties. The edge of the bills flipped in the
breeze.

Heang waved his hand as if plagued by a pesky
fly.

“Samnang is no longer your concern,” he
said.

“Please, let me have her. I can get you more
money.” Desperation had crept into her voice. Her face was wrought
with fear for the scared little girl somewhere in that vast
house.

Heang spoke to Cho, who rushed forward and
grabbed the plastic bag, sneering at Severine, and gave it to
Heang. Heang reached in and pulled out the bound bills, sniffed
them then chucked the hunk of paper, underhanded, toward the open
fire. The money fell short, landing in a deep puddle with a
splash.

Cho eyed the wet bills. It was more money
than he’d make in a lifetime.

Heang seethed. “I don’t want your dirty
money.”

Down the street, barking and yelling ensued,
as a vigilant guard dog surprised the disgraced guard. Barking and
yelling ensued for several seconds until a single shot sounded in
the night. Then all was quiet again.

Severine approached Heang. She knew Samnang
was inside this rickety house, steps away, scared and alone. She
would not leave without her.

“Please, may I see her for a moment? If you
let me see her, I can tell you where the necklace is from.”

Heang’s eyes narrowed. He stepped out of the
doorway and down the steps until he stood on the ground.

“You know about the necklace?” he asked.

She glanced at Kiem. Now she would have to
bluff.

“Yes. Yes, and there is more, much more than
that. Please let me see her and I will tell you.”

Hakk stared at her.

“Five minutes.” He jutted his chin out at Cho
and yanked his head toward the house.

In three strides Cho was by Severine’s side,
grabbing her arm and dragging her forward. She stumbled in surprise
as she hurried along the courtyard with his assistance.

Inside, a television played on full blast. A
tiny old Khmer man was sprawled on a ripped couch in the corner,
cackling at the TV. The guard barked and the old man sat up and
stood.

Severine saw it was actually an old woman,
with very short gray hair and a deeply wrinkled face. There was not
a patch of skin that was not lined. The woman smiled broadly as she
listened to the guard’s instructions, making sounds of agreement
every few sentences. The guard frisked Severine, feeling over her
loose clothes and her belt. Satisfied, he gave her a look and left
the room.

The old woman smiled, displaying a few
remaining yellow teeth, and took Severine’s hand in her own. She
led Severine through a doorway and down the hallway, to the back of
the house and a stairwell.

The hallway walls were covered with cheap
tapestries featuring the temples of Siem Reap, held to the walls by
colorful plastic thumbtacks.

Climbing up the stairs, Severine listened for
any sound from the closed doors but the house was quiet. She could
hear the guards heckling Kiem outside but knew he could take care
of himself.

Upstairs on the landing, the old woman
stopped by a door and fumbled in her breast pocket. She unlocked
the door and indicated Severine should step in. Ahead of her,
Severine saw yet another stairway, leading to a third floor. It was
dark but Severine took a few steps in. The door closed and she
heard the bolt shoot closed. She was locked in.

She started up the steps, not sure if this
was trick by Heang. She considered that no one in the world knew
where she was.

On the third floor landing, Severine heard
whimpering. She hurried the last couple steps to the door.

The room was large – but with only one small
high window. From the window, Severine could see a crescent of
moon. As Severine’s eyes adjusted to the light, she spotted Samnang
curled up on a rickety metal cot in the corner of the dusty room.
Severine rushed to her.

“Little Samnang. It’s me, Severine.” With the
old woman and the guard somewhere at the bottom of the stairwell,
Severine knew she had only minutes with Samnang. Samnang’s eyes
were black in the dark room. Severine could barely see her little
face in the shadows.

“Severine. Sok s’bey.”

Severine embraced Samnang, brushing her black
hair back from her face. Samnang was crying but smiled at Severine.
Severine looked across the bed, where there was a glass of water on
a ledge. Severine held it to Samnang.

“Here, little one, you need to drink. Have
they given you anything to eat?” Samnang shook her head. Severine
cursed under her breath, “Animals.”

Severine folded the bedclothes while Samnang
drank the water.

At the sound of footsteps, Severine gathered
her wits together. She was not going to settle for a goodbye.

“Samnang, listen, we need to get you out of
here, but these are bad men. I need you to trust me. Do you trust
me, will you do what I say?” she whispered, hoping the little girl
understood. Samnang nodded.

Cho appeared in the doorway and waved his
gun. “Enough. Time to go.”