It was Nash who was first to hear something amiss. The horses, tied up in a makeshift pen, were snorting and shuffling their hooves.
Nash’s first thought was of a deadly mammal or a venomous reptile, both of which were in abundance in Myanmar.
He slid his gun from his holster and racked the slide. Then Nash slowly sat up and let his eyes adjust to the poor light.
He heard Thura say softly, “Bandit, man, to the right, by the horses.”
Nash nodded. He quietly rose and kept his gaze in front of him.
He saw a glint of light and recognized it as the illumination coming from perhaps a phone or flashlight. Whoever was holding it was very near the horses, as Thura had said.
He edged toward the light and drew a bead on it with his Glock.
Then the light went out. A few moments later, Nash saw muzzle flashes and heard the sounds of two gunshots. Nash then heard someone cry out behind him.
He fired back and he must have hit his target because someone screamed in pain.
Thura ran past Nash and leapt onto the intruder, who had fallen to his knees next to the whinnying and rearing horses.
“Got him,” shouted Thura. He flipped the man over and shouted in Burmese, “Trying to steal our horses?”
Nash ran forward, and Temple and Amrita, roused by all the noise, joined them.
When they reached him, a terrified-looking Thura had risen off the fallen man and stared at Nash. “You killed one of the KIA’s soldiers.”
Nash felt his heart race as he looked down at the uniformed man lying dead in the grass. “What was he doing here?”
“He can be wherever he wants to be,” said Thura, looking wildly around. “Wait, where’s Zeya?”
Nash remembered something: the sound he’d heard when the soldier had fired.
He raced back over to the dying fire and saw Zeya lying face down on top of his sleeping bag.
Nash knelt down and felt for a pulse. There was none. He rolled the man over and saw the bullet hole in his face.
“Shit!”
This came from Thura, who had hustled after Nash and seen his dead comrade.
“We are fucked!” roared Thura.
Temple and Amrita raced up to them.
“What do we do?” she exclaimed in a frightened voice.
“We get the hell out of here,” replied Thura. “We leave now. The horses will find the way even in the dark. Come on, let’s go. Now.”
“And leave the bodies here?” said Nash.
“We can’t take the time to bury them. One soldier means others are close by. And if you don’t bury them deep the animals will get them anyway. Come on!”
He started rolling up his bedding and kicked dirt onto the fire. Amrita watched for a moment and then grabbed up her belongings.
Temple muttered to Nash, “We’re gonna die in this shithole.”
They saddled their horses, with Thura tethering Zeya’s horse to his.
By dawn they were far away from the dead men.
