CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER
THE NEXT MORNING THE MEN drove them southeast into the foothills of ruggedly mountainous territory, then had Nash and Temple get out. Next, the Jeep turned around and sped away.
Nash and Temple stood there in the middle of nowhere looking helplessly in all directions until they heard the sounds of another vehicle approaching.
A battered box truck came into view and pulled to a stop a few feet from them.
Three men got out of the front seat and walked to the back of the truck. Two of them pulled out a metal ramp from a recessed pocket above the back bumper. They angled it to the ground and locked it into place.
As they were sliding up the rear cargo door Temple and Nash heard a powerful engine start up.
When the door fully opened, a dirt bike roared out and down the ramp, then skidded to a stop.
The rider took off their helmet, revealing a tall, slender woman in her early thirties with long dark hair and skin, and an intense look.
Nash noted there were four other dirt bikes in the back. He also saw that each bike had an extra fuel tank attached. After they were all brought out, along with five gear packs, two of the men and the woman came over to them.
The bigger man, who was taller than Nash and about 230 pounds of solid muscle, said, “I am Thura. We all speak English, so no worries.” He pointed to his companions. “This is Zeya. He is Burmese like me. Amrita is Indian. In her language that means ‘immortal.’”
Temple quipped, “Well, let’s hope that rubs off on us.”
Thura pointed toward the formidable range of mountains.
“That’s the way we’re going, and it’s going to get rough.
But just follow us and all will be good.
” He handed each of them a gear pack. “Water, bedding, some food, and other essentials like toilet paper. There are no toilets the way we are going, man,” he added with a grin.
Nash eyed Zeya, who wouldn’t look at him, while he noted that Amrita watched him curiously. The third, unnamed man hung back by the truck.
Amrita said, “Let’s roll. It gets dark early here. And cold in the mountains.”
Thura said, “With that in mind . . .” He walked back to the truck, reached into the cab, and pulled out two thick leather jackets and warm-looking gloves.
He passed them over to Nash and Temple. Then they loaded the ramp back into its slot and closed the cargo door.
The third man climbed into the driver’s seat, started the vehicle, and sped off without saying a word.
Nash hadn’t been on a motorcycle since college, but he got the hang of the clutch and throttle by doing a practice run along the road.
They put the gear packs in their own backpacks and rode off. They kept to the road for a few miles but then turned off onto what amounted to a dirt path that switchbacked its way upward.
Thura dropped back and over the sounds of the comingled engines barked, “Roads have checkpoints. Not good for us. We are better going this way. They think no one is stupid enough to do this,” he added with a laugh.
“We understand that the KIA controls the Kachin State,” said Nash.
Thura nodded. “The junta is not welcome here, but that does not mean that KIA is any easier.” He eyed Nash closely. “For people like you.”
As the elevation rose the temperatures dropped, and Nash was glad of the jacket and gloves.
The condition of the trail continued to deteriorate, and he found himself bounced all over the place, barely able to keep his seat or both wheels on the ground.
His forearms and legs ached with the effort.
Thura, Zeya, and Amrita showed no signs that this persistent beating bothered them in the least.
He glanced over and saw that Temple was struggling more than he was.
Temple looked over and gave a feeble thumbs-up.
They rode for well over five hours before they stopped by the side of the road for a meal unpacked from a saddlebag that Amrita carried on her bike.
It was traditional local food, they were told, and it was good.
But Nash would have eaten anything at that point.
They started up again, cleared the pass, and headed down. By the time they reached the bottom it was pitch-dark, and their way was illuminated only by their collective headlights.
They reached a rotting shack under a stone overhang and inside it had their final meal of the day, which both Nash and Temple inhaled.
As they sat in a circle on the floor, Thura pulled out a bottle of whisky and five shot glasses wrapped in plastic from his backpack.
“Surprised you made room for that,” said Temple.
“There is always room for liquor, man. Now, this has been a good first day. We shall drink to an even better second day.”
He filled up the glasses and they all drank. The whisky was strong, but Nash welcomed its warmth going down.
Thura eyed Temple. “So you are businessman looking for riches here?” His eyes twinkled, showing that he probably did not believe this.
“Hopefully, I will be when we get to Myitkyina,” replied Temple with a forced grin.
Amrita looked at Nash and said bluntly, “And you guard him? From what?”
Nash nodded. “I’m sure something will come up, aren’t you?”
Thura smiled at this, but Amrita just stared at Nash with even greater curiosity.
Later, they spread out their bedding on the floor, and one by one they fell asleep. Around two in the morning Nash awoke to see Amrita staring at him from her spot on the floor. The only light was from a small battery-powered lantern. The others were sleeping soundly.
“Not tired?” said Nash quietly.
She shrugged and then slid her bedding and herself closer to him. “You have a gun,” she said quietly. “I saw it inside your jacket.”
“Goes with being a personal bodyguard.”
“Does your boss have a lot of money?”
“Not on him, if that’s what you mean. Why?”
She shrugged again. “So, your boss has business in Myitkyina?”
“He does, yes.”
“Where are you from in America?”
“All around.”
“Have you been to New York City? And Hollywood?”
She said the latter with a starstruck giddiness that made Nash smile.
“I have.”
“And are they as amazing as people say?”
“They’re never boring, that’s for sure. When did you come here from India?”
“Four years ago.”
“Why?” he asked.
She said sharply, “Why not? Oh, you think this place is for shit?”
“No. But it’s not exactly the easiest place to live, either.”
“I. . .I got into some trouble in my country. I came here to get away from it.”
“Do you plan to stay here much longer?” he asked.
“Not if I don’t have to. Look around, this place is for shit. At least this part of it. And there is no government or law, just bullets and bombs.”
“Well, I hope you are being well paid to escort us.”
“I’m sure Thura is. Me and Zeya maybe not so much.”
“So you work for him?”
She inched closer. “I want to work for myself. But sometimes it doesn’t work out that way, you know?”
Nash thought of his relationship with Temple and nodded. “I can understand that.”
“What does an American really want from this place?” she said.
“I’m just the hired help, Amrita. I go where my boss tells me to.”
“Have you killed people with your gun?”
“Would it matter to you?”
She shrugged. “I do not believe you are simply here on business.”
“Well, you’d be wrong because unfinished business is the only reason I’m here.”
Nash caught himself and prayed he had not just made a big mistake. He stared at Amrita, trying to read her reaction to his statement.
“You Americans are very. . .different,” Amrita said slowly.
To change the subject, he asked, “Where did you learn your English? It’s excellent.”
She smiled at the compliment and it made her look less hopeless. “In India. Many there want to learn English so they can go to America.”
“Do you want to go to America?”
“Will you take me?”
He gaped. “I’m not sure how that would work, Amrita.”
“You could make it work,” she said.
“Let’s see how things turn out.”
“Which means, no, you will not take me.”
She turned away from him and went to sleep.