Read The Number 8 Online

Authors: Joel Arcanjo

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Urban, #Suspense, #Espionage, #General

The Number 8 (5 page)

BOOK: The Number 8
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Just behind the athletic grannies was a beaten-up blue Toyota Corolla with mud splashed all over the sides. Both wheels were caked in it but it was dry now. Dante would be surprised if it drove cleanly. There were two passengers. A man and a woman. Asmir and Mel.

Asmir swung the passenger door open and carefully maneuvered himself out. He didn’t look entirely comfortable. He moved mechanically and massaged his lower back with the ball of his palm. He turned slowly and Dante caught his eye. He forced a pained smile. He hobbled over and greeted the other members of the bus fondly. Viktor gave him a firm pat on the back as he passed. Asmir winced in agony and swore at Viktor in Russian. Viktor barely reacted and just shot a twisted grin back at him.

“What happened to you? I thought it was only your leg?” Dante said, confused.

“It was!” Asmir shouted. “They messed up the stitches and made me stay in overnight. Then, they decided to make me stay in a bed that I am 95% sure was made of stone.”

“So you have a stiff back?”

“Stiff back…stiff back?!” he shouted again. “This feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my back while I slept.”

“At least you got some rest though, right?” Dante said, trying to get him out of a ranting mood. But he would not be stopped.

“Oh no, no, no, no… A good rest would have been ten hours sleep. Eight even. But that crazy woman got me up at 5:00am to be here by 8:30,” he said pointing at Mel, who saw this and blushed a little.

“But you…”

Asmir interrupted, “Wait, I’m not done. After getting lost for two hours on our way here she found the
only
muddy road in the North Island and proceeded to take it on in a borrowed Toyota Corolla. That is the result,” he said pointing at the now brown car.

Dante took a second to make sure he was done.

“So I guess you’re not gonna come on the walk with us?”

Asmir just looked at him in amazement, not saying anything, just standing, mouth agape.

“I guessed as much.”

“You’re damn right. I haven’t slept, I’ve eaten the hospital’s food which shouldn’t even be served to rats, and I feel like that 300lb kid has been sleeping on my back, you know the one I mean, right? Half tonne kid or something like that?”

“Half tonne would make him 500lbs, Az. But yeah, I do.”

Asmir chose to ignore the correction. “Anyway, have a good little walk, I’m off to sleep on the warm coach.” Dante watched Asmir climb the stairs of the bus and stumble all the way to the back and out of view.

He turned back around to see that the group of old ladies had begun to power walk off into the distance. Arms and legs pumping hard. They were clucking away happily to each other as they hit the trail. His group had also started trudging up the path. But the body language was distinctly different. Hands in pockets, shoulders hunched over, kicking stones and all of it in absolute silence. Mel was right at the front looking weary and frustrated. She kept glancing towards the bus, presumably to catch a glimpse of Asmir. It seemed that nobody but Dante was in a good mood. Strange, seeing as the sun was shining and they were in paradise.

He shivered as he was hit by a rogue gust of frigid air. That was what prompted him to start moving. He picked up the pace to catch up with his group. His shoulders were back and his arms swinging.

Walk like a winner
.

He caught up with the group and fell into a rhythm. Unbeknownst to them, they had been walking a very slight incline. No one had noticed, not even Dante. As Mel, the leader of the tour, reached the corner, she smiled. First into the distance then at them. One by one they got to the viewing landing where she was waiting and saw why she was beaming.

The view was barely of this world. It was like something from
Avatar
. Below them was a large gorge with a river bisecting the hills on either side. On the south-facing hillside the sun amplified the colors of the many plants and trees. Boulders lay scattered in a random, but strangely artistic pattern in between small sections of forest. A man and his dog could be seen navigating the treacherous terrain near the top of the northern hill. In the gorge the river thundered through the valley, meandering around corners and leaving only large stones behind. The water was clear and even at this distance, Dante could see the river bed. He took out his camera and snapped some shots. He knew Asmir quite liked photography so he would be a little upset that he didn’t get to see this.

Chapter 10

“I hate this place…” was all Asmir could make out. One of the passengers had come back early and was crashing around in the bus. He was angry about something. Asmir would normally have got up and made sure he was all right, but he hadn’t slept much and this guy had woken him up. He wasn’t in any mood for conversation. The guy hadn’t noticed him slumped at the back and he wanted to keep it that way. He kept still and tried to fall back to sleep. But in the background all he could hear was the guy pacing up and down the aisle, muttering. Each time he got further and further up the aisle. Then he stopped. For a second there was silence.

Then, “Oi! Are you hiding back there?” he shouted.

Asmir kept silent, hoping that his silence would answer the question. He was asleep and he wanted to stay that way.

The guy didn’t get the message. “Oi! The brown one back there, I’m talking to you.”

For a second Asmir wasn’t sure he had heard that right. So he gave the guy the benefit of the doubt and kept his mouth shut.

“Are you deaf, brown kid? This isn’t a homeless shelter. This is a tour bus. Go and sleep off the hangover somewhere else.”

Asmir definitely hadn’t misheard that. He got up, walked over to the guy and stuck out his hand.

The guy looked disgusted by this and backed away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Shaking your hand.”

“Why?” he stuttered.

“You have got to be the most ignorant person I’ve ever met. I wanted to congratulate you.”

The guy just stood there, unable to speak. Asmir could almost hear his mind trying to process this scenario.

“Do you realize how many assumptions you just made about me?” Asmir carried on. “No? I didn’t think so. You don’t know anything about me.”

The man stayed silent.

“First you interrupt my sleep. Then you call me brown and insinuate that I’m not meant to be here. What’s your name?”

“Um…Richard Smith.”

“Well, Richard, is it all right if I call you Dick?” It wasn’t really a question he needed answering, so he carried on. “I can tell you are the type of guy who bullies people. I don’t like bullies very much. But I can be pretty forgiving, so here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to sit down and tell me what the hell is wrong with you and then I’m going back to sleep. Sound good, Dick?” Asmir wasn’t the violent type but he looked big enough to get away with what he’d just said. He didn’t really want to hear another word from Dick, but he knew that the guy’s pacing and muttering would keep him up, so he wanted it resolved.

Dick just stood there, his mouth slightly ajar and his brow furrowed. He was a strange-looking guy. Not ugly, but quite rat-like. Big nose. Deep-set brown eyes covered by thick, bushy eyebrows. His complexion was pale and his black hair was styled into a spiky quiff. He was about 6’1 and skinny, but with a fairly athletic build. Asmir could probably take him in a fight.

Finally Dick eased himself into an empty seat and Asmir sat opposite.

“Now tell me, what the hell is up with you? Why are you muttering to yourself like a crazy person?”

“I don’t want to be here. I hate it. Everything’s different.” His anger was evident.

“Different? From where?”

“England. It’s all different and weird.”

From the way he spoke, Asmir understood he wasn’t educated. So he would have to lead.

“And thank God it’s different! It’s sunny, there’s no traffic and not a pie in sight. Isn’t it great?”

Dick looked up at him like he’d blasphemed. “No, it’s not. I want all that. I hate the sun. Look at me, I burn easy. And pie, I would give my right arm for some pie right now.”

“So why are you here?”

“My family made me. I’ve never been out the country and I’m about to enlist. They thought it would be my last chance before I go to the army.”

“So for your first trip abroad they sent you to New Zealand? Dick, you’re a very lucky guy.”

“Lucky? You call almost a full day on a plane lucky?”

“Look around you, this place is incredible. Don’t miss out.”

“What’s your name?”

“Asmir. Maybe you should ask that first before calling me “brown kid”. You’re lucky it was me.”

“Look, Amsir…”

“Asmir, Dick. Asmir.”

“OK. Look, Asmir, I’m from a small village in Yorkshire. I don’t see many of your kind in my area. I’m not being racist. It’s just a fact. You are brown.”

Asmir chuckled a little. This guy was unbelievable. “I understand that, Dick, but you can’t call me brown, it’s seen as racist. You also can’t say “your kind”. When did you leave school?”

“Fourteen. Better to earn money doing odd jobs than paying it to learn algebra.”

Asmir didn’t want to argue with him. But he understood this guy’s character a little better now. He wasn’t racist, just uneducated. He called it like he saw it. Asmir’s skin was brown, so he called him brown. Not acceptable but not malicious.

“All right, listen to me, Dick. You have two options. Try to be open to New Zealand, the culture, the food and the weather, or go home. There’s no point in staying here if it makes you mad.”

Dick thought about it for a second. “Do you like England, Asmir?”

“Of course I do, but nowhere near as much as you it seems. It’s my home but it’s not my world. I appreciate other countries for their unique cultures. Do you think you can try and do that?”

There was a pause again. “I guess…”

“Good. Do me a favor, Dick, don’t call anybody else here brown or black. Next time you might not get so lucky.”

“Erm…OK.”

“Oh and don’t wake me up again. I slept on slate last night and I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” Asmir said getting up and trudging to the back of the bus.

He didn’t wait for a response. He’d only got two steps before he spotted a small piece of paper all scrunched up on the floor. On public transport or on the street he could’ve easily missed it, but it had caught his eye. He leant down to pick it up and slowly smoothed the edges out. Four words were scribbled on the paper.


Why are you here?

He had no idea what it meant but his gut told him it wasn’t good.

“Hey, what was that?” Dick asked from just over his shoulder.

“Err… Nothing. I don’t think it’s anything,” he lied.

Chapter 11

“Rubbish!” Asmir shuddered. Dante was showing him the photographs he had taken at the reserve.

“I’m sorry I’m not up to your standards, Az!”

Each photo Dante showed him he would critique carefully. On some the lighting was wrong. On others Dante had framed the scenery incorrectly. None of the photos were just right. But today he wouldn’t argue with Asmir. He needed the win. Dante let Asmir snatch the camera and continue to cycle through the pictures. Every now and again Asmir would tilt the camera towards Dante and say something like, “Really? You shot this kind of scenery vertically? Come on D, you’re better than that.” Dante just smiled and shrugged like he didn’t know any better. Probably because he didn’t.

They pulled out of the car park just as the elderly group came waddling back down to their stolen YMCA bus. They were huffing and puffing but there were smiles all round. A smile even broke out over Dante’s face. Partially because of the cheery old thieves below but mainly because they were off to their next stop, Waitomo and black water rafting. It was just under 180km which translated into about a two-hour drive. He knew Asmir wanted to sleep so after Asmir told him about the bizarre meeting with Dick Smith, he let him.

The two hours went by very quickly. He had a lot on his mind, most of which he was trying to actively expel. But it was easier thought than done. His subconscious was throwing up all kinds of memories that he was trying to bury, but couldn’t. So he was even more excited when they arrived at Waitomo that afternoon. His first impressions of the town were that it was small and idyllic. But their hostel was just outside the town. It was north-facing and resembled a giant chalet. Cool in the summer but probably chilly in the winter.

The passengers quickly unpacked their bags, some leaving unnecessary bags behind. They were only staying one night here after all. Asmir was refreshed now, but still shot Dick Smith a wary glance on his way out. Dante was not too keen on meeting him after how Asmir had described him. But Dante didn’t like to take other people’s opinions as his own so he reserved his judgement for now.

Asmir had once again booked a two-bed room for them in this hostel. They dragged their luggage into their room and both headed for the bathroom. Dante quickly saw that their room was almost exactly the same as his room in Hot Water Beach. So, while Asmir continued to evaluate it, he headed out onto their very small balcony. It had barely enough space for one person, but he made a point of checking the view. It didn’t disappoint. They had got lucky and been given the top floor. Their room was on the far right-hand side of the building facing north. There were better views in the cente rooms, two or three to their left but Dante was not complaining. Across from them was a forest with several hiking trails leading in. He had done his research and knew there was a small river that cut through this forest and the tour guides had planned to take a walk there in the morning. Balcony doors began sliding open as people checked out their views. One room to their left Becki and Annie popped their heads out first at the view, then turned and saw Dante.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Becki called out.

“Yeah. What are you two doing this afternoon?” Dante fired back.

“We’re both going to do black water rafting. What about you two?”

“Same!” Asmir shouted from inside.

Both looked at each other and laughed.

BOOK: The Number 8
2.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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