Chapter Eleven: Gone in a Flash
Page 1 of 3
Shangcheng District, a high-rise apartment.
Jin Ling, still drowsy, crawled out of the soft round bed, threw a nightgown over her shoulders, and stumbled half-asleep into the living room to grab a cigarette and a lighter. She wandered, bleary-eyed, onto the balcony.
The night was cool as water, the evening breeze refreshing. Eyes closed, Jin Ling lit a slim cigarette, inhaling deeply and letting the nicotine and tar swirl through her lungs before exhaling in a slow, drifting cloud.
“Lao Meng,” Jin Ling leaned on the balcony rail, squinting at the empty air, and spoke, “I think something’s wrong down south.”
***
Southern Wastelands, Security Exclusion Zone, a certain laboratory.
Meng Chang, busy among a jumble of test tubes and instruments, sighed and gave a bitter smile. “I know. His resistance is getting stronger and stronger. This can’t go on.”
“Hm? What did you say, Professor?” His lab assistant looked up, confused.
“Nothing. Just talking to myself. Don’t mind me.” Meng Chang forced a smile, turned to the lounge, locked the door behind him, and collapsed into a chair. “I warned him about the consequences of stopping the medication.”
***
Jin Ling too wore a troubled look, staring at her burning cigarette and murmuring, “Do you have any good advice?”
***
Meng Chang thought for a moment and replied, “Just make him take the medicine, on time and in the right dose.”
***
Jin Ling shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about his current trouble. There are too many of them—he can’t handle it alone.”
***
“Go help him, then.” Meng Chang yawned endlessly, rolled over into a more comfortable position, and said helplessly, “I’m no good in a fight—I’d only be a burden.”
***
“It’s too late for that.” Jin Ling stubbed out her cigarette, smoothed back hair tousled by the night wind, and said, “Besides, he just took the medicine. The inhibitor's working. I can’t reach him.”
***
“Snore… snore…”
Meng Chang lay sideways on the bench, his breathing deep and even, soon snoring—already lost in sleep.
...
Raw Meat Town, the repair shop.
“Why are you asking about him…” Tang Suan looked baffled, but still did her duty as the Downcity Encyclopedia, explaining, “He’s the biggest power in west Downcity. I’ve never seen him myself, only heard stories… why do you ask?”
“Let’s go. They’re coming,” Zheng Nanfang, having just taken his medication, was already shaking off his earlier exhaustion. He wiped the sweat from his brow and instructed, “Head to the Bus Motel and grab your things. Meet at the Deep Well Diner in five minutes.”
The trio of nurses exchanged bewildered glances. One couldn’t help but ask, “Who’s coming? Are you dropping out of the race?”
“Survival first.” Zheng Nanfang spat out the words, then sprinted toward the garage where the Viper was parked.
On the edge of the gathering, the voluptuous beauty Laili watched with a strange expression, circled past the nurses, and tailed Zheng Nanfang.
...
National highway, deep in the night: bleak and desolate.
Page 2 of 3
A container semi from Hoarse Manor thundered down the road, barreling straight for Raw Meat Town.
In the cab, the scholarly Yu Xiuzhu, dressed in a long robe, drove while a nervous Shaman occupied the passenger seat; the boy, Yi Jianmei, perched on Shaman’s lap, his young face alight with a strange energy as he fiddled with an enormous Magnum revolver.
The truck tore through the night, reaching Raw Meat Town in about forty minutes—forty minutes that might be all the life Shaman had left.
Now, Shaman regretted her decision. She had finally escaped Zheng Nanfang, only to turn right back toward him. Whether she found him or not, her situation was dire.
Xiba Feng had promised that as long as Zheng Nanfang had the Hive information, she’d have a place in Hoarse Manor. But what if he didn’t? Or what if Zheng Nanfang, having lost his invitation, had already abandoned the race and left town?
Shaman sighed, rubbing her forehead as the scenery rushed past like the dwindling moments of her life.
Click! The boy pressed the huge revolver against Shaman’s jaw. His voice was crisp and innocent, “You look worried.”
They say desperation breeds survival—it wasn’t wrong. With survival odds so low, Shaman found she was no longer afraid. She shot a sidelong glance at the boy’s dangerous little prank and retorted, “You’d be nervous too if someone had a gun to your head.”
The boy giggled, showing off his massive revolver like a treasure, his childish excitement shining through.
“Relax. Once we find him, you’ll be one of us,” the refined driver offered, trying to reassure her. Clad in a long robe and gold-rimmed glasses, he hardly looked like the fearsome lieutenant Xiba Feng described.
Shaman studied the two elegantly-named men for a while, and figured she could probably take either one out with a lucky punch.
“Can I have a weapon?” Shaman tried her luck. “I could help.”
“No,” bespectacled Yu Xiuzhu refused politely, nodding to the container behind them. “Let the muscle handle the dirty work.”
“What about you two?” Shaman asked.
Yu Xiuzhu: “I drive.”
Yi Jianmei: “I ride.”
...
Raw Meat Town, repair shop garage.
Just as Zheng Nanfang opened the Viper’s door, he sensed movement behind him and instinctively reached for his knife.
“Don’t move,” came a woman’s voice, followed by the mechanical click of a gun being readied.
Zheng Nanfang released the hilt, raised his hands, and slowly turned. Five meters away, a dark-haired, voluptuous woman stood with a cigarette clamped between her lips, an 870 pump-action shotgun cradled in her arms.
“Do I know you?” Zheng Nanfang looked her up and down, certain they’d never met.
Laili swayed her hips as she approached, pressing the shotgun to his chest and glancing at the Viper behind him. “That’s not your car, is it?”
“None of your business.” Zheng Nanfang’s eyes were sharp, already calculating his chances to disarm her.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Laili shrugged, lowered the gun, and smiled. “I hear you’re fast with a blade. If I’d startled you without backup, I might’ve been cut down before I finished a word. Long story short, I’m a racer too. I’m here to propose an alliance.”
“Not interested.” Zheng Nanfang refused flatly, turning to get in the car.
Laili blocked the door. “At least hear me out before you decide.”
“Really not interested, and I’m in a hurry,” he snapped. When she still wouldn’t move, irritation flared. With a sudden twist, he wrenched the door open—so fast Laili’s shotgun ended up in his hands before she could react.
Zheng Nanfang slid into the driver’s seat, leveled the gun at Laili, and said coldly, “Don’t bother me.”
Page 3 of 3
Laili, reading the mood, backed off several steps. “You never know. Maybe I could help you.”
“No need.” Zheng Nanfang fired up the engine. The Viper’s headlights slashed a brilliant white through the dark, the engine roaring with deafening fury.
The man with the bristling beard hadn’t lied: this was indeed a fine car. After a few throaty revs, Zheng Nanfang released the brake, and the black machine shot into the night like a blade, leaving everything behind.
Laili licked her lips, watching the Viper’s taillights vanish, a half-smile on her face.
Outside the rolling garage door behind her, there was movement. Doghead and Braids emerged from the shadows, taking up positions at Laili’s sides.
“If you’d just signaled, I could’ve dropped him right there,” Doghead said, hefting his rifle, a note of regret in his voice. “Nice car, though.”
“I’m not here for a killing game,” Laili replied, still gazing at the Viper parked by the Cave Diner, her eyes full of curiosity.
Braids followed her gaze, snorted, and muttered, “I don’t get it—why are you so interested in him?”
“You don’t need to get it. Just do as I say.” Laili shot them a withering look before turning away.
Doghead and Braids exchanged a glance. “So what should we do now?”
“Get the car and assemble everyone,” Laili ordered over her shoulder, flicked away her cigarette, and with a twist of her wrist, tipped a black pill from a custom bracelet into her mouth.
...
“Boss, shouldn’t you tell us what’s going on?” Tang Suan, after a long silence, couldn’t hold back her curiosity. She frowned at the serious Zheng Nanfang and asked, “Who’s coming? Where are we going? Are we pulling out of the race?”
“You ask too many questions.” Zheng Nanfang kept his attention on the road, turning off the crowded main street into a side alley. He pointed ahead. “We need to lay low for now. Which way’s the exit?”
“Left,” Tang Suan replied, pursing her lips and asking no more. It was clear the new boss was serious. Whatever was going on, his uncharacteristic behavior meant trouble was heading their way.
“There are guns under the seat. You three take them.”
The nurse trio were even more bewildered. Last night, he’d barely let them touch a gun. Now, he was handing them out.
“Boss,” Shuyang Onions called from the back, “we’re being followed.”
Zheng Nanfang checked the mirror. Four or five cars of various makes were closing in fast and making no effort to hide.
“Damn, already?” He frowned, recalling the look in Shaman’s eyes earlier. “How far is Hoarse Manor from here?”
“Fifty kilometers, give or take…” Tang Suan’s voice faltered, her eyes wide. “No way… Is Xiba Feng chasing you?”
Zheng Nanfang didn’t answer. He just gritted his teeth and floored the accelerator toward the exit.
...
At the town’s exit, three ambulances with flashing lights pulled up side by side, slowing to block all three ramps.
From the back, gunmen in hazmat suits poured out in formation—some laying spike strips, some setting up behind the vehicles, others taking positions on surrounding vantage points.
A man who seemed to be in charge removed his mask and spoke into a radio, “Sister Hong, the blockade’s in place.”
Even as he spoke, two beams of blinding headlights tore through the darkness, engines screaming, racing toward the exit.