| "You're right. I wonder if we won?" "No one won. People only survived or died." "Think the shooting is pau?" "Seems like it. Hopefully whoev...oh shit!" Just then a green Datsun near the front of the convoy sideswiped the white Plymouth beside it, then veered across the shoulder, ran up the embankment before toppling onto its rook. Somehow the other cdars remained on course amid a general sccreeching of brakes and puffs of blue-white smoke. The lead police car made a quick u-turn as drivers and passengers converged on the overturned sedan with its driver hanging limply in his seat belt. Someone reached in through the passenger side window to switch off the ignition. Blood dripped from both sides of elderly Japanese man's head. Hands tried to open the driver's side door, but it was jammed. "Move back!." Sargeant Costa ordered as he came through the others ringing the overturned vehicle. Kneeling beside the Datsun's cab, he bent down to peer in at the driver. "Sonavabitch!" "What is it?" Captain Yamada asked urgently as he moved to the side of the kneeling police officer. "He's been shot!" Nervously the surrounding travelers brought up weapos and looked about. "Okay, spread out!" came the shouted order. Are you sure Costa?" "Look here!" he answered indicating a dime-size hole in front of the left ear. "Fucking renegades! All they want are his belongings. Someone help me get him out!" With difficulty they extracted the frail body of the driver. A middle-aged Japanese man who Eric didn't know. spoke up as the body was carried to the police cruiser. "Sargeant, if they want the car and his belongings, why don't we burn it. Don't let them have it!" "Good idea!" Audustino Patayon piped up, his face filled with rage over his friend's senseless slaying. "Good idea! Burn it!" "Is there anything worth saving Augie?" the sargeant asked. "He had some vegetables from his garden. He didn't have much." "Quick, get what you can!" "If they see us trying to torch the car, they may start shooting," someone cautioned. "Let the last car do it sargeant," the Japanese man suggested. "Use the gas that's leaking there and some of those clothes. Here. I have matches." he said digging a small box out of his tee shirt pocket. Quickly they prepared the car to be torched. When they had finished, the sargeant then ordered them back to their cars. In a matter of seconds all had complied, anxious to be out of range of the unseen sniper. Once again the convoy moved out. Jason relaxed visibly once they crested the hill and dipped into the protection of the far side. Behind them a thin plume of smoke rose above the horizon of eucalypses trees, the result of a flare tossed into the gas-soaked clothing. "That's one they won't get!" Jason nearly shouted. Who "they" were was a mystery. "Unfortunately, we didn't get it either and if they can't get that they need or want out here, they may be forced to come into town to get whatever they're after," Eric replied soberly. "Won't we outnumber them?" "I don't know. No one seems to know just how many we face. What if they come at three in the morning?" "You've got a point. Maybe we should be posting a guard." "Maybe." "Did you know them man?" No. Probably lived in the old plantation housing below the road. We didn't know too many people from the camp." "If we don't have a guard," Jason drifted back, "Maybe there's some way we can rig a warning system. Once we get a crop in, we're going to have to protect it." "I like how you're thinking. Any suggestions." "Buy a dog? Trip wires?" "Let's work on it." Eric suggested as they made the right into Honokaa. If we have the wind genrator, we might be able to rig something electrical." By the time the tow men returned, the three women had cleared a considerable amount of wild grass that had covered the garden-to-be. They had been aided by the cloud cover that fortunately rain on their labor, but did moderate the sun. All three had developed blisters on their hands, but that didn't dampen their sense of accomplishment. Eric and Jason dutifully listened to a recap of their efforts before Cheryl unpacked a chocolate cake mix, which she declared as a reward for a successful day. neither Eric nor Jason mentioned the events on the highway. "If we get the wind generator up and some solar panels tapped into the water line, we'll really have something to celebrate," Eric mentioned as he watched his wife mixing some powdered milk. "That would be something, wouldn't it." "Well, we're not out of the woods yet, but I think we have reasons to be optimistic." "Are you going to the meeting tonight?" Cheryl asked as she prepared to pour the mix into two shallow cake pans. "I think I should. I'll take Kawena. You can chaperone the others." "I may have too!" "Oh?" "I'll tell you later. Is the meeting set for seven?" "Supposedly. If it's cancelled, they'll sound the fire station siren three times. What do you mean you'll tell me later?" "Just what I said. What's tonight's topic?" "Food. Did I miss something?" "Cheryl just grinned back at him. What evolved during the sourse of that evening's meeting was a proposed system of mutual support, initially for everyont, then tapering off to feed the aged and stranded as home gardens were harvested. The community crop would then be processed for storage or used as seed. If the plan were to be followed strictly, the community would be able to feed itself; as well as, begin to develop reserves for the future. If the crops failed they wouldn't be able to call upon anyone else for help. Roughly a thousand acres of former mill land now owned by the county had become available by default. This land would be tilled and cultivated by the community. The harvest would be divided on a per capita basis, with provisions made for those needing more or less. Each household with able bodied members was obligated to send someone to help work the fields daily. Seed would come from Awongs or individuals. Eric calculated the seed they could spare and mentally contributed to the pot. The irrigation ditch that had served the mill for so many years was still operating, although somewhat in need of repairs. Honoka'a, however, was blessed with a healthy rainfall throughout the year. Iasao Hosaka, the county agriculture extension representative form Hilo, happened to be in Honoka'a on the day of the attack and was elested farm production supervisor. Arthur Akana, a former sugar plantation truck driver, was named to organize the hunters. Arthur was an excellent bowman and indicated he would begin a program to teach younger members of the community how to hunt and clean the |