This time, Yamagata had been aiming at the Filipino. The arrow arced up, then sank back down in a blur of motion, somehow seeming to gain speed as it did so. In the next instant, the arrowhead buried itself in the Filipino’s back. The man fell to his knees and managed to crawl a few feet before collapsing and lying still in the dirt.
Lucky was still running, his feet churning toward the gates that now seemed so close, almost within reach.
Faraday couldn’t believe it. He’s going to make it. He’s actually going to escape. Around him, the other prisoners shouted wildly.
Off to the side, Colonel Yamagata nocked another arrow and drew back his bow. He pulled the string back well past his ear and held it there. The tip of the arrow pointed high into the air. Though powerful, his arms shook slightly with the strain, but he took his time aiming. Then the bow string was released with a sharp twang, and the arrow hissed skyward.
At first assessment, the arc appeared too high, as if Yamagata had overshot his mark. Beneath the falling arrow, Lucky juked and dodged. He had almost reached the gates. In seconds, he would be home free.
The arrow struck, piercing Lucky just below his left shoulder blade. He kept running at first, then went down to his knees. The gate was right there.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Faraday urged under his breath, hoping against hope that his buddy would still be able to make it through the gate.
Lucky had gone to his hands and knees, leaving a trail of blood in the dirt. Then he collapsed to his belly but kept going, dragging himself toward the gate, unwilling to give up.
Mr. Suey was crossing the prison yard now. He paused long enough to check the still body of the Filipino prisoner, then kept going. Lucky was barely moving now, spread eagle in the dirt, almost like a swimmer trying to tread water but going nowhere.
The Japanese sergeant unsnapped the flap of the pistol on his hip, drew the weapon, and pointed it down at Lucky. Faraday turned away but winced at the sharp report of the pistol.
Colonel Yamagata handed his bow to Lieutenant Osako, who looked almost as stunned as the prisoners. The commandant raised his voice to address the POWs.
“The rest of you will be happy here. You will do as you are told. You will work hard. There will be no complaints.”
Yamagata turned toward his own men and shouted something. Just beyond the grisly scene of Lucky’s body, the prison gates were slowly closed again.
CHAPTER TEN
With no time to spare before dark, Patrol Easy headed back into the interior of Leyte, leaving the beach behind. The tropical sea breeze was soon replaced by the stifling heat and humidity of the island interior. The breeze had kept the worst of the insects at bay, but the flies and midges now returned in hungry, biting clouds.
“Here we go again,” Philly grumbled. “I thought the front lines were dangerous, but what do you know, hanging around too close to HQ turns out to be just as hazardous when someone decides to volunteer you for a mission deep into enemy territory.”
“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” Deke agreed. “It’s gotten so that I can’t tell which one is hotter.”
“But if it means getting those poor bastards out of the POW camp, then it’s worth it,” Philly pointed out.
“Let’s just make sure we don’t end up in the boneyard in the process, or ambushed. We won’t be much use to anybody if we’re dead.”
After that brief exchange, no one seemed inclined to say more. As the vegetation deepened around them, a silence settled over the group.
Even just a stone’s throw from the sea, the jungle grew lush and thick right up to the edge of the dirt road. The jungle was a riot of green, with trees of all kinds and sizes. Deke was more than familiar with the mountain forests where he’d grown up and could identify oaks, maples, and hickory trees. He didn’t even know where to begin here, these being far different from the species back home, but the trees were just as impressive.
Overgrown vines hung from the trees, the creepers adding to the lush vegetation that snaked down from the canopy.
The scary part was that Deke realized he was starting to feel right at home. There were hidden dangers lurking in the jungle, to be sure, but it also provided cover. The protection offered by the forest was a lot better than feeling exposed on the beach.
In any case, it felt good to be on the move. A few hours of rest in the relative security of the beach area had felt good, but now it was time to get back into the action.
It would have made sense to head out the next morning, but even the few hours they had before darkness arrived suddenly seemed essential.
Nobody had come out and said it, but by unspoken mutual agreement they were all double-timing it. The area was securely in American hands — more or less, aside from a few infiltrators and small bands of enemy soldiers — so there wasn’t much worry yet about encountering any stray enemy units. That would come later. For now they could hurry it up.
Major Flanders’s description of the fate that might await the American POWs added to their sense of urgency. They all knew only too well what the Japanese were capable of doing. They had witnessed the enemy’s cruelty too many times to count.
Maybe Americans weren’t always saints, and the frustrations of the battlefield resulted in a few captured Japanese not making it to the rear. However, wholesale slaughter of defenseless Japanese POWs was unthinkable. Once the captured enemy troops were safely corralled in the POW compound, they were treated with respect and well fed. The men of Patrol Easy would find out soon enough that the treatment of American POWs held by the Japanese fell far short of what anyone might expect.
“Hey, Deke, do you think the Japanese will really murder those POWs?” Philly asked.
“You heard what that major had to say, same as I did,” Deke replied. “Also, you know the Japanese as well as I do. What do you think they’re capable of doing?”
Philly clammed up for once, thinking it over. He didn’t respond directly, but turned to shout with annoyance at Rodeo, who was lagging behind. “Pick up the pace, why don’t you? It would be nice to get where we’re going before Christmas.”
If Lieutenant Steele had overheard, he chose not to comment. Deke figured that the lieutenant had other things on his mind — such as how they were all going to survive this mission and bring home those POWs to boot.
The plan to liberate the POWs had sounded well and good back in the relative safety of the tent at HQ. It hadn’t taken much to get them fired up about rescuing the POWs. The plan had unhatched in the shadowy corner of the tent. But now in the harsh light of day, they were headed back in what Deke thought of as Indian country.
The last that they had seen of Major Flanders was him piling into a transport to ferry him back to General MacArthur’s HQ aboard USS Nashville, taking his reconnaissance photographs with him. Deke supposed that you couldn’t really blame the major for not heading into the field with them. That wasn’t the man’s job.
One thing for sure — they were on their own.
There were just a handful of them on this patroclass="underline" Lieutenant Steele, Deke, Philly, Yoshio, and Rodeo. Philly was already grumbling about having to walk who knew how many hours before they reached that POW camp.
Their Filipino guerrilla guide, Danilo, was on point. There hadn’t been any discussion about him joining this dangerous mission. He had simply attached himself to their patrol, ready to go — and silent as always.
Deke felt reassured by his presence. The deeply tanned Filipino was wise in the ways of the jungle — plus, he was a tough nut to crack. Danilo appeared to have a select knowledge of English, understanding only as much as he wanted to. Nonetheless, they would welcome even his limited communication skills once they linked up with the Filipino guerrillas somewhere up ahead.