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Tuesdays are the days I showcase my work on this blog. Today I'd like to share an excerpt of my most dramatic story yet, The Plain of Bitter Honey.
This
story represents a dramatic turn in my writing. It is a futuristic story of two
brothers, one straight and one gay, who battle a corrupt government and each
other. This is not a gay romance, although several characters are gay. This is
a tale of survival, of devotion, of finding deliverance and atonement.
This
novel has was released only a few months ago, yet it has already received a
fistful of Five-Star reviews. This is
what Bob Lind, the reviewer for Echo Magazine, had to say about it:
I've said in the past that Alan Chin is my favorite author, and
that is still the case with this new book. It is best described as a sci-fi/speculative/political
novel, so unlike any of his previous works I have seen, and he handles the
genre with mastery. The story is action-packed, well-constructed and expertly
told, with a diverse, developed cast of gay and straight characters working
together in situations that risks not only their lives, but perhaps the future
of this country. Bravo … five stars out of five.
Blurb:
Twins Aaron and Hayden Swann are
fighting a corrupt government taken over by ultra right-wing Fundamentalist
Christians in 2055 America. Each brother fights in his own way, Aaron with
bullets, Hayden with words. Then one night their world is turned upside down
when they are caught in a government sting and they must both flee north into
the badlands between San Francisco and Canada, where the only safe haven is a
place called The Plain of Bitter Honey, a refuge where heads of the Resistance
operate. But the brothers don’t know that government agents are tracking them
to the hiding place of the Resistance. Can they find the inner strength to
survive?
Excerpt:
The whine of hydraulic motors filled the compartment.
The back door crept opened and the front began to rise.
Now came the dicey part. As trash spilled out of the
container, they all had to fight their way to the top of the heap so they
didn’t end up crushed under tons of garbage, and they had to do it silently—one
scream and the armed guards in the cab would be on them. Thankfully, Gideon
jumped to Aaron’s aid to help haul Hayden to the top. As the container’s angle
grew sharp, the trash picked up speed sliding out the rear.
They rode the debris out, like surfing a wave.
The grade was steep and the brothers tumbled down
along with the other freedom fighters. When they came to rest, Aaron still
clutched his brother to his chest. Wet, putrid waste piled over them, enough to
give them cover until the truck sped away.
Aaron waited until he heard the clang of the truck
doors lock shut and the whine of the engine fade. He shook off the trash and
pulled Hayden onto his shoulders.
Others scrambled to find the food and equipment
scattered among the debris.
Aaron stumbled across a field of waste to lay his
brother down in the shade of some cottonwood trees. He dashed back and dug
though the rubbish to find his backpack, food and automatic weapon. He worked
fast, knowing other trucks would soon show up to dump more refuse, and as soon
as the trucks stopped for the day, the Caliban would arrive to scour the heap
for anything edible. They had precious little time to gather the equipment and
flee the area.
Within twenty minutes, they had assembled a pile of
backpacks, blankets, tin cookware, canned food and jugs of water. It only took
a few minutes to divvy up the load and pack. Everybody shouldered his or her
load while Aaron hauled Hayden onto his back again.
Aaron stared at his pack propped against a tree,
realizing that he couldn’t carry both Hayden and the pack, and everyone else
was already weighed down. He flashed on its contents—family pictures, mother’s
jewelry, childhood keepsakes, a few cherished books Hayden had acquired on the
black market, the false passport, and the three hundred thousand dollars. He
picked up his rifle, turned and lunged away, leaving the pack.
Gideon took the point, leading them single file toward
the foothills below Mt. Tam. As they left the area, they crossed a well-used
path. Beside the trampled grass, Aaron noticed a patched-together signpost that
read: To Vancouver, 800 scenic miles.
Aaron wondered whether this was the result of
well-meant, wishful thinking or whether someone was making a joke. In any case,
the sign stood like a beacon, daring all to proceed at their own risk.
They moved fast and stayed under cover as much as
possible, but hadn’t gone a mile before Aaron began to lag behind. The average
weight of the backpacks was seventy pounds; Hayden weighed one-eighty-five.
Aaron struggled with every step.
He realized he could not keep up.
It became a nightmare. His head bowed and body bent
under Hayden’s mass, Aaron lurched over rocks and small obstacles. The pain of
his pinched toes had become sharp. He was a fool not to have picked
better-fitting boots, and he was paying the price for his stupidity. As he
stumbled across the open country, the pain crept from feet to his shins, to his
knees. Aaron was in serious trouble. He would never make Canada, but he could
go on for a while longer. He would stumble on as long as he could, and just
hope someone else would take Hayden when he was done in.
Occasionally he heard a grunt or a voice, but everyone
trudged along silently for the most part. Having been raised in the city,
amidst a constant barrage of noise from traffic and crowds, this silence was
unexpected, and frightening.
Once he thought he heard footsteps behind him. He
stopped and half-turned, his ears and eyes straining, but he saw nothing. He
only heard his own panting and the sound of his heart pounding.
He hurried on, mindful of the uneven path. If he broke
a leg now, it meant certain death. He fell further behind until Gideon stopped
the others under the cover of trees.
Aaron struggled to catch up. When he collapsed in the
midst of the group, they were deep in debate.
“We need to move fast and hard,” Cooper said. “If
Aaron can’t keep up hauling his brother, we leave him.”
Weary, Aaron could smell their fear. He checked to
make sure Hayden was breathing okay, and crawled to his feet.
“Nobody gets
left behind,” Gideon growled. “Now that we’re away from the dump, we need to
move carefully and with intelligence, not fast and stupid.”
Cooper shook his head and Maggie spoke for the first
time, “Coop’s right. I’m sorry about what happened to Hayden, but right now
he’s an anchor. I’m not risking my life to save him.” She glared at Aaron.
If it were anyone but Hayden, he’d be the one
insisting they leave him behind.
“All right,” Aaron said between gasps for breath. “I
won’t beg you to stay with Hayden and me. Anybody who thinks I’m putting them
at risk can leave us behind, and best of luck to you.” On our own, he thought,
we don’t have a prayer.
“Listen up,” Gideon said, peering at Aaron. “I’m sticking
with Aaron. If you want to live, you’d better damn well stick with us.”
Maggie took two steps toward Gideon. He didn’t flinch
as she said, “You have a map of how to get to The Plain of Bitter Honey. Make
me a copy.”
How she knew that information, Aaron had no idea, but
he was not surprised. She was the smart one, and did her research.
“Too dangerous. If the Caliban gets their hands on
that map, Bitter Honey would be wiped out. I won’t take that chance.”
The Armenian raised his sidearm level with Gideon’s
head and clicked off the safety.
“Give her the map,” the Armenian hissed, “or I’ll take
it off your dead body.”
“One shot and you’ll draw everyone within five miles
down on us.”
The Armenian took a step toward Gideon, bringing the
muzzle to within an inch of Gideon’s head.
Everybody froze. Gideon reached for his inside coat
pocket.
“Slowly,” the Armenian snarled.
Gideon produced a map and held it out. “If you even
suspect you’re being followed, eat it. You cannot let the Caliban get hold if
it.”
Maggie snatched it from his fingers. Aaron stepped closer, until he could see the
drawing himself. It was indeed a map of the Pacific Northwest, done in pencil
outlining the coastline with little triangles showing the mountain ranges. A
compass sat in the top right-hand corner. At the top was a line and above it a
word: Canada. But in the middle, within the triangles along the coastline near
the California/Oregon border, was a small black dot with the words ‘Plain of
BH’ under it.
She folded it back up and stuffed it inside her shirt.
Aaron couldn’t believe she was making such a stupid
blunder. Leaving Gideon to go it on her own was madness. It revealed how scared
she and the others were. It’s because we
let them think they were going south, he thought. We should have let them know
the minute we agreed to evacuate everyone who could have been identified. We
sprung this run for Canada on them at the last moment, but they needed time to get
used to the idea. It was too quick.
“Whoever is coming with me,” she said, “saddle up. I
want to be on the other side of Mount Tam by sundown.”
With the Armenian continuing to hold his gun on
Gideon, everyone except Liam and the Mexican girl shouldered a pack. Moments
later, they trotted away at a fast clip, traveling due north.
“Thanks for sticking with us,” Aaron said, nodding in
Liam’s direction as well, “but what the hell can we do without a map?”
“I don’t need it,” Gideon spat. “I’ve been there
enough times. I made that stinking map to give to you in case something happens
to me. Let’s move out. We’ll skirt around the west side of Tam. We hike single
file. Walk in my footprints. No talking; we communicate with hand signals. We
take it slow and we zigzag so it’s more difficult for them to trail us.”
“Are the Caliban as fearsome as people claim?” Liam
asked. “I mean, I always thought that the rumors were government propaganda to
keep us afraid.”
“I don’t know about you,” Gideon answered, “but I
don’t plan to find out.”
Everyone nodded. Aaron asked Gideon why he chose to
stay with him and Hayden.
“You risked your life to save your brother, and you
wouldn’t leave him.”
“Yeah?”
“So you showed me you can be counted on. Out here
that’s everything.”
Aaron didn’t ask why Liam and Juanita stayed. Sticking
with Gideon was the smart move.
“What about the others?” Aaron said, looking up the
trail they had taken.
“Forget
them. They’re already dead.”
Alan
Chin
Novels:
Island Song, The Lonely War, Match Maker, Butterfly’s Child, Butterfly’s Child
Daddy’s Money, Simple Treasures, The Plain of Bitter Honey
Screenplays: Daddy's Money, Simple Treasures
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