Chapter Two: The Island Circuit

Clearing up the accident scene had taken a considerable amount of time. By the time Zheng Nanfang and the other two set out again, night had fully fallen.

“The days are short, the nights are long. Looks like there’ll be a sandstorm in the next few days,” said the blonde-haired Shaman, flexing her limbs, stiff from being tied up. Now that the two sides had agreed to cooperate, she was finally freed from her bonds. She glanced at the silent Zheng Nanfang, probing, “What are you thinking about?”

Zheng Nanfang seemed oblivious, standing there dazedly. His face twitched with an odd, discordant spasm, as if two beings were inhabiting the same body.

“Hey.” Shaman, though raised in the lower city and no stranger to strange sights, couldn’t help but shudder at Zheng Nanfang’s bizarre behavior. She hadn’t known him long, only a few hours, but she hadn’t forgotten what happened when they first met.

The burly man, hearing Shaman call out, turned back, puzzled. “What is it?”

“He’s acting weird.” Shaman swallowed nervously, instinctively taking a few steps back as she spoke to the big man. “Look at him.”

“I’m fine,” Zheng Nanfang said abruptly, his voice still flat. He didn’t look at Shaman, just opened the car door, hopped into the passenger seat, and called out to the two still standing outside, “Aren’t we leaving? It’s dark.”

Shaman and the big man exchanged glances. Something odd flickered in their eyes. Each harbored their own thoughts as they silently got into the vehicle.

The heavy pickup was as rugged and brutal inside as out—barebones, almost primitive.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Zheng Nanfang instinctively reached for a seatbelt, only to find nothing there.

The big man noticed the gesture and snorted. “Kid, where are you from, anyway?”

“The West.” Zheng Nanfang’s reply was as flat as ever. He pulled off his hood, stretched his neck, and added, “I have a name. I’m Zheng Nanfang.”

The big man didn’t seem to care much for this “West” story and didn’t pursue it further. Shaking his head, he slammed the gas pedal down. The heavy pickup roared furiously, kicking up a trail of dust as it sped off into the night.

The force threw Shaman sideways in the back seat. She rolled her eyes, then sat in the middle, hugging her knees. “What about you? What’s your name?” she asked.

The big man glanced at Shaman in the rearview mirror, his gaze lingering for a moment at the neckline of her vest before returning her earlier words. “People from the lower city don’t have names.”

Shaman smirked, unconcerned by the man's predatory gaze, and asked nothing more. She gathered her loose blonde hair into a neat ponytail.

But Zheng Nanfang’s attachment to names seemed unusual. Picking up where Shaman left off, he pursued, “Then what should we call you? Since we’re on the same team, even a code name would do.”

The big man spat out the window, seeming to consider for a moment. He rumbled, “Call me whatever you like—Big Bastard, Bastard Boss—it’s all the same to me.”

“Huh?” Shaman couldn’t help but laugh, though she quickly suppressed it and asked, “Bastard? Which bastard?”

A wicked grin spread across the big man’s face. “The one between your legs.”

The amusement vanished from Shaman’s face, replaced by a glare as she slumped back, seeing no reason to continue the conversation.

Zheng Nanfang remained detached, his gaze fixed through the webbed cracks in the windshield at the twin beams of yellowish light ahead. He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps questioning, “The road race… where does it end?”

The driver, Bastard, said nothing, but kept glancing at Zheng Nanfang, probing, “You don’t know?”

“Hmm?” Zheng Nanfang seemed startled, as if waking from a dream. “What?”

“The champion’s prize,” Bastard licked his parched lips, grinning savagely. “You have an invitation, but you don’t know the grand reward at the finish line?”

“I don’t know.” Zheng Nanfang shook his head, admitting it as if it were of no concern to him. “I need to go to a place called ‘The Loop.’ A friend told me that only by winning this race can I pass through the upper city and get there.”

The heavy pickup jolted for a moment, then steadied.

Bastard gripped the steering wheel tighter, his breathing roughening. He didn’t show much outwardly, but Shaman, in the back seat, sensed a subtle shift in the air.

“You want to go to ‘The Loop’?” Bastard tried to control his tone, but the tremor of shock slipped through.

Shaman looked blank. She knew of the upper city—it was the only place in the world left worth aspiring to. But “The Loop”—she’d never heard of it.

For a fleeting moment, Shaman thought perhaps being captured by Zheng Nanfang, and now forced into a team with these dangerous men for this even more dangerous race, wasn’t the worst fate. At least these two knew things she’d never even heard rumors of.

Zheng Nanfang nodded, without a trace of caution, brazenly laying out his purpose to his dubious “partners.”

“You know about ‘The Loop’?” Zheng Nanfang asked.

“Heard of it,” Bastard replied.

“What? I haven’t! Tell me!” Shaman cried.

“Let me have ten days of fun with you and I’ll tell you,” Bastard named his price.

“Five days.” Shaman rolled her eyes.

“Seven,” Bastard bargained.

“Three,” Shaman countered.

“Deal.” Bastard agreed instantly, laughing strangely as he reached back, grabbed Shaman by the hair, yanked her forward to the front seat, and bit down hard on her lower lip until blood streamed down her chin.

Shaman screamed in pain, struggling to break free. The faint sense of safety she’d begun to feel evaporated instantly. She cursed herself a thousand times—she’d let down her guard, forgetting both her captivity and the fate of women in today’s world.

Bastard laughed aloud, licking the blood from his lips, then stuck to his agreement and, raising his voice, explained to Shaman what Zheng Nanfang meant by “The Loop.”

The Loop was the center of the center.

If the upper city was today’s utopia, then The Loop was the utopia’s ideal. The upper city still bore traces of modern civilization; The Loop, however, was the only place to have witnessed the rise and fall of it all.

Outside the upper city—places like the lower city, the wastelands—people lived as best they could, wild and desperate, just surviving.

Within the upper city, life was at least somewhat human.

As for The Loop at the heart of the upper city—what life was there, only imagination could answer.

Many rumors circulated beyond the upper city. Some said The Loop was the source of all calamity; others that it was the last sanctuary.

It was said that eight years ago, the world’s collapse began at The Loop, and would also end there.

The first “Hive” appeared at The Loop; the first to uncover the Hive’s secrets were also there.

Whether Bastard’s tale was true or not, for Shaman it was all unknown territory. Truth or fiction, it was enough to spark endless dreams.

“So, where did you hear about The Loop? And why do you want to go there?” Bastard suddenly turned his questions on Zheng Nanfang. Before he’d finished speaking, the heavy pickup screeched to a halt. As Zheng Nanfang and Shaman steadied themselves from the jolt, the barrel of a gun was already pressed hard against Zheng Nanfang’s brow.