THE LONELY WALK: CHAPTER FOURTEEN

May 11, 2006, 0907 EST
As he waited for a break in the early morning traffic, his mind began to wonder.
He was thinking about Frontiera again. He wanted to remember a particular moment
when he was with the group. Ultimately, the reason he was here. He was thinking about
the rushing through the tunnels, running away from the uniformed gunmen, when he
suddenly snapped out of it.
His attention was suddenly drawn to a break in the traffic. He looked left and saw
a white Boston taxi had actually stopped for him. The driver was waving with his right
hand to cross the street; Jif thought it was a little too courteous. He gazed back to the
right and saw no other cars approaching. He dashed across the street, his gun swaying
like a pendulum under his hand, slamming into his ankle as he got to the other sidewalk.
Already he was feeling sick. His conscience was telling him to stop, but his will
carried him on. As he proceeded down Federal Street, and the buildings dominated him
again, he started to think of Frontiera.
September 13, 2003, 1829
The group decided Jif should go first. It was quite a climb, and the shutter was
partially closed, leaving a small gap underneath. If Jif wouldn't fit, then nobody else
would try it.
So Jif pulled his way up to the collapsed floor, dragging his body up to the
doorway. It smelt of mud and shit. Jif crawled under the metal shutter. He felt tiny
pinpricks dig into his chest through his shirt. Pulling himself out, he turned around to see
the gap again. It looked smaller than it actually was. A sploge of yellow flashed in the
darkness, and Keitaro's head was appearing. Jif pushed himself to his feet and stood,
looking down on himself. His shirt and jacket were streaked in brown-grey dust,
peppered with bits of tiny black stone stuck to his white shirt. He breathed deeply and, for
the first time all day, felt his lungs actually push his ribs out.
It was another alien site again. More collapsed or abandoned old buildings and a
brand-new road in the middle. How can new things be made when all this trash was
around? A pile of rubble was to his right; at least something had been done. Then,
something he couldn't believe.
"Fuckin' hell," he said quietly. Over the rooftop of one-story box was a brandnew
skyscraper, maybe a few yards away. A bog-standard tower filled with glass and
steel, looking grey in the clouded light. A must for any central business sector. And yet
there was all this trash around here! This was unbelievable!
"Uh," Keitaro groaned as he crawled out the gap. Jif bent down and offered his
hand. Keitaro looked up and threw his arm out. Jif gripped the boy and gradually hoisted
him forward. He went for the armpits, sweaty, hot, and pulled his whole body out. He
released him and let him be.
"Feel's like being born again," said Keitaro. Jif chuckled.
Yuzuyu was next. She crept though quite easily, so Jif didn't offer his help. He
didn't really want to touch her anyway.
"Keitaro's over there," said Jif, pointing him out. He reckoned she wanted to play
with him anyway. "I think he might want some help." Yuzuyu understood and trotted off.
"Give me a hand," called the old Jap. Fido stuck his arms through the gap. Jif held
the hands and slowly pulled back. Fido got jammed at his waist. It took three jostles to
release him. Fido ushered Jif away and crawled to his feet.
"Jif, get over here!" yelled Keitaro. Jif sighed, stood up, and paced over. Keitaro
was kneeling on the ground, hunched over something. He seemed shocked! His skin was
pale. Something had scared him. All this time, he hadn't showed one bit of fear.
"What, mate?" went Jif, sitting down next to him.
"Jif, I think I'm gonna die," stated the boy, staring right into he ground. He didn't
want to make eye contact. Jif felt like giggling.
"What?" he replied.
The boy was staring into a pool of water. Jif didn't know at the time; but in
certain cultures, if you see "things" in the reflection of a pool of water, it will come true.
"Jif, I'm not a man. I'm not a father. I don't know how to take care of a girl."
"Mate, why are you saying this? This girl loves you. You have the perfect chance
to live a life of solitude with her."
"I won't live that long," replied Keitaro. "Trust me, I know it." Jif thought it was
just the nerves talking, but he secretly hoped he was right because he too wanted Yuzuyu.
"Don't you think I got a better chance of dying?" replied Jif, angrily pointing to
his stomach. He knew fat men died early. He didn't know what age, but he knew he was
on a death train.
"Just, promise me this," demanded Keitaro. He looked up and made eye contact
with Jif. "Promise me that if I don't get out, you'll take care of Yuzuyu." Jif sighed. He
hated these holes.
"I already wanted her. But I know she'll never be happy unless she's with you,"
he replied, pushing his palm over the boy's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. He
stopped suddenly and looked behind him, at the rubble. He heard a distant rumble of a car
engine. Jif staggered forward and edged the curb. He was sure he could hear a car. Then,
they appeared.
"Hey!" he shouted. "I see cars!"
The group paced to where he stood as Jif stuck both his arms in the air and started
waving above his head. There were two cars: the first was a sedan, the one following was
an SUV. Both black. The sedan splashed through a puddle and avoided a large piece of
masonry in the road when a set of red flashers in the grill started pulsing.
"Police?" asked Jif to no one in particular. He could make out it was a Mercedes.
Then he noticed a figure in the passenger seat. He recognized him. It was the boy from
earlier. The one who shot at them. He stopped waving.
"Geronimo!" he shrieked as he bowed to the right where everyone had stood next
to him. He threw his arms around the group and thrust forward. It felt like running
through water.
"What are you . . . ," yelled Fido. There was another splash, and squealing, the
cars screamed to a halt.

A gun fired. It missed his knee by an inch as a tiny hole blasted its way out of the
sidewalk. Jif felt his hands shake again. Fido dived to the left, out of Jif's vision, while
Keitaro was herding Yuzuyu back to the shop front. There was the sound of shattering
bricks out of nowhere, when Jif tripped on something in the walkway and lost his
balance.
"Shit!" screamed Keitaro as Jif landed facedown in the dirt, tiny pinpricks digging
into the skin of his forehead. Car doors opened, and there was clubber of footsteps.
Pushing his palms into the painful grit of the ground to stand up, Jif cocked his head. A
tall Jap aimed a pistol at him. Midthirties, black tunic, white shirt, and no tie. He looked
evil, but not as bad as the gun boy behind him. Jif felt his heart beat its way into orbit. He
felt helpless, now crawling along the floor like a baby. There was nowhere to hide.
"Ahhh!" screamed Yuzuyu. Jif caught sight of the girl and Keitaro. They had
been forced to the floor; two men in suits were scrabbling with them. Jif managed to push
himself up as Fido appeared again, screaming at the top of his lungs, running with a long
chunk of grey masonry in his right hand.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A small hole appeared on Fido's jacket. His face contorted as though he'd been
kicked in the balls. Jif couldn't bear to watch him die and thrust his arms under his head
and dug his face into his biceps, obscuring the light. He heard the huge brick fall from
Fido's grasp, with a chink and a sort of rattle. He hissed breaths through his teeth, trying
to avoid sucking into dirt and trying to avoid his body rattling. The possibilities were
running out; he would die either now or later. Footsteps stomped and squeaked around
him. There was a shallow murmur of Japanese gossip, and he heard Keitaro yell
something unintelligible in the distance. A car door opened and closed again, then
something curved and leathery slammed into the side of his belly.
Jif winced in pain but didn't turn over. Another kick winded him, but he still
didn't budge. Then, a foot jabbed into his right shoulder and thrust him sideways. He held
his arms to his eyes for as long as he could as he was rolled to his back. He felt a warm
fleshy hand grasp his wrist and pulled his left arm downwards. Jif opened his eyes. It was
the evil-looking Jap. Crouching down over him. Angry face. His eyes like pits of fire. He
just stared at Jif. Then he stood up and walked backwards. Jif lifted his head and wished
he hadn't.
The boy from earlier approached Jif. The one who'd shot him in the shoulder. His
black automatic pistol was aimed at Jif's head. He had short black hair, spiked up in all
directions. Jif could feel the evil piercing him through the boy's aviator sunglasses. He
was still wearing them even though it was cloudy and getting dark.
Jif noticed the boy's black combat pants were peppered with specks of dried
blood. He'd been killing someone else today. So Jif knew what would happen next.
"Just tell me this . . . ," wheezed Jif, "who are you?"
"I am Rock!" replied the boy, in Americanised English. "Son of Kenjiku!" He
cocked the gun. "You tell you god . . ." The boy put the gun to Jif's forehead and drove
his head slowly down into the grit of the road. He felt tiny specks of grit pierce into the
soft skin of his head. "I will take no one else to run this island."
Jif's head lost all heat as his body realised what would happen next. He felt so
useless. So futile. He started to think about the day and the days before that. And he said
to himself, "What have I done with my life?"

Just then he felt a rush of blood as a tear filled his left eye and streamed down his
temple. The boy drove the gun deep into Jif's skull until it hurt. Jif didn't complain but
closed his eyes as he waited for the inevitable. Click!
No bang!
He waited ten seconds to be sure then opened his eyes.
The boy was smiling. The gun was in the same place. But had not fired.
"Must be your lucky day. I'm out of shells," mocked the boy. With a crunch of
gravel, the boy eased himself to his feet and slid the gun back into the waistband of his
pants. "You gonna die anyway!" he yapped as he walked backwards, nodding his head
upwards. His cocky body language was saying, "What are you gonna do about it?" and
he was right. There was nothing Jif could do.
The screams of Keitaro and Yuzuyu were unbearable, but all Jif could do was
push himself up with his palm to spot the hostages in the back of the cars. Yuzuyu was
crying and trying to hide her face. Keitaro was shaking back and forth in the seat of the
Mitsubishi, yelling his head off and trying to get Jif's attention.
"Don't let them take us!" screamed Keitaro. Jif could only shake his head as
shame swept his body. "SAVE YUZUYU!" he screamed. "YOU MUST SAVE
YUZUYU!"
One suit each got into the open seat of each car, next to each hostage. As they
pulled the doors shut, the child's screams diminished into murmurs. Rock got into the
front passenger seat of the Merc, and the convoy drove off slowly.
Jif tried to push himself to his feet, but his legs were useless as he slumped to the
floor again. He crawled on his hands and knees along the rubble-covered road to see one
last look of the cars. Peering along a broken building, he saw the convoy bounce over
dips and bumps in the road and saw a wing mirror fall off one of the cars, before they
turned another corner and disappeared.
He felt ashamed. Not angry but ashamed. Because it was his idea to go back onto
the road, so he'd led the group into the lethal grip of the bad guys. He turned around, still
too weak to stand, and spotted the man.
Fido lay where he was shot. His porkpie hat was upside-down, sitting just above
his head on the tarmac of the cracked road. His skin was pale and grey. The whole in his
chest was the size of a fist, and the body smelt of fireworks. The blood was splattered in
penny-sized spots all over the shirt and on the tarmac around the body. The man's open
mouth showed how he'd taken his last breath.
Jif slid his hands under Fido's shoulders and pulled him up, so his head reached
Jif's chest. Cradling him, he felt a quiver of emotions fill his body.
And he started to cry.