Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Place to Belong

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Late at night, in the domed fishery.

Two people who had stepped into the black mist from different times and spaces collided unexpectedly, both tumbling out of the gloom.

Both were desperadoes, accustomed to living on the edge. After their initial shock, they instinctively drew their weapons, putting some distance between themselves for safety.

“It’s you?”

Recognizing each other, they cried out in unison.

Astonished though they were, at least they were not enemies. In this bizarre canyon, having a familiar face nearby brought some comfort.

“How are you here?” Hong Xiangcai lowered her gun, glancing around with a strange look in her eyes. She asked, puzzled, “Huh? Still here?”

Laili steadied herself, running through the facts in her mind. According to Zheng Nanfang, Hong Xiangcai had left before their convoy arrived and should have entered the fishery ahead of them. When the rest of them arrived and found her missing, everyone assumed she had entered the black mist and vanished. No one expected that the first to enter the mist would encounter Laili, and in such a peculiar space at that.

Laili had yet to realize there was a temporal disturbance in the domed fishery; she simply thought Hong Xiangcai had stumbled in from some other place.

“This isn’t the domed fishery you entered,” Laili said, based on her experiences that day and her own judgment. “There’s something strange about this place. It seems to manifest things based on what you’re thinking.”

“What are you talking about?” Hong Xiangcai looked utterly baffled. “Where’s Hu Sentian and that kid? Why are you here alone? You all move pretty fast, getting here before me. Where’s the Hive? Where is it? Why is the domed fishery deserted?”

Bombarded by Hong Xiangcai’s rapid-fire questions, Laili could only answer with silence.

“You went into the black mist?” Laili felt something was off, observing Hong Xiangcai’s expression carefully. “What did you see?”

Hong Xiangcai, feeling just as confused, sensed that she and Laili were talking past each other. They barely knew each other—just a fleeting encounter in Raw Meat Town—and now Laili was trying to probe her instead of answering. Hong Xiangcai lost interest in talking.

“Our paths cross, but we go our separate ways,” Hong Xiangcai sneered. “I’m here for the Hive. Don’t get in my way.”

Laili couldn’t help but laugh. So you got here before us, and you still haven’t figured out that the black mist is the Hive?

“I’ll give you some advice: don’t wander, and don’t let your mind run wild.” Laili hadn’t wanted to get entangled with her, but this fishery was too strange—if Hong Xiangcai provoked something else, Laili might end up suffering too.

But Hong Xiangcai heard it as something else entirely—who do you think you are, ordering me around?

Her temper flared instantly; she cast a sidelong glance at Laili, who was spattered with blood and grime, and snorted, “What did you say?”

A veteran forged in blood and fire herself, Laili could sense the provocation, but she truly lacked the energy to spar with Hong Xiangcai. She sighed, “Suit yourself.” With that, she looked toward the black mist, thinking, Do as you please. I’ll go through again and see where the mist takes me this time.

After getting the cold shoulder, Hong Xiangcai, seeing that Laili no longer challenged her, fell silent. She crossed the suspension bridge and headed toward the reservoir.

Laili stepped into the black mist again. The wind howled in her ears, the world spinning wildly. When she opened her eyes, the world had changed once more.

The sky was dark red, thunder rumbled, and a furious wind whipped up a storm of yellow sand.

“This isn’t the domed fishery…”

Laili’s mind nearly froze; she struggled to breathe, but finally steadied herself and understood her predicament.

The sandstorm—it was the same one that had struck when they were heading for the domed fishery.

She now stood on a wasteland beside the national highway, surrounded by wind-eroded earth mounds taller than a man. The sandstorm was upon her, blotting out the sky, visibility dropping by the second.

Escaping from the cold night of the fishery, she was now thrust into the blazing heat of a sandstorm.

Laili could have wept. She could only grope her way under the lee of a mound for shelter.

A sandstorm in the lower district was a deadly killer: sand and stones lashed about, the wind like knives. Dressed in just a vest and shorts, one encounter with the storm would skin her alive.

The wind and sand grew fiercer. Without goggles, Laili could only bury her head in her arms and curl up in the hollow of the mound.

Faintly, she thought she heard Zheng Nanfang’s voice.

Startled, Laili shielded her eyes and tried to make out something amid the orange haze.

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By chance, as Laili’s gaze swept across the mound opposite, she saw a figure go prone. Despite the stinging sand, she was certain she hadn’t imagined it.

Recalling the voice she’d just heard, Laili dropped low and crawled toward the figure.

The storm advanced even faster than she’d feared; the fierce headwind made the short distance of just over ten meters feel endless. In the blink of an eye, her calves were nearly buried in sand.

With no other choice, Laili gambled, hunched over, rose, and, using the wind, bounded forward in great leaps. The flying stones slashed her back and thighs, sending jolts of pain through her.

After several minutes, she finally reached the spot where the figure had been.

The figure was gone, but a trail of crawl marks remained.

Laili followed the tracks and soon saw Zheng Nanfang struggling forward, his body already thickly caked with sand.

“Idiot, get up!” Laili gritted her teeth, lunged through the storm, and seized Zheng Nanfang by the arm, trying to haul him up.

Zheng Nanfang seemed dazed, stunned by the sandstorm. After a moment, he managed to get to his feet. The two of them supported each other, battling the wind as they headed for the highway. Suddenly, a flying stone struck Laili squarely on the forehead.

Pain exploded in her head; she fell back, losing her grip on Zheng Nanfang’s hand, and crashed to the ground.

In a daze, she thought she saw Zheng Nanfang trying to turn back for her, but then the storm surged like a tidal wave, sweeping her helpless body down the slope like a discarded plastic bag. Zheng Nanfang’s silhouette vanished.

Blood ran into her eyes, blinding her. Laili clutched her wounded forehead, struggling against the storm, crawling on by sheer willpower.

The roar in her ears was deafening; her vision was a sea of crimson.

Finally, she felt her hand touch the edge of a mound—like a drowning person seizing a lifeline. Summoning the last of her strength, she clawed her way to safety.

Laili made it. She could feel the wind and sand cutting her less sharply now.

She sat up slowly, curling into a fetal position against the mound, finally freeing a hand to wipe the clotted, sandy blood from her eyes.

The wound on her forehead was grave; pressing her hand to it, she could feel a dip in her skull.

With such an injury, alone and trapped in the storm, her chances of survival were slim.

Laili exhaled, slowly opened her eyes, and suddenly remembered—

After rescuing Zheng Nanfang from the dead city, he’d thanked her in the car for saving him twice. She’d thought he’d misspoken, but later he’d asked her about the sandstorm, as if trying to confirm something.

At the time, her focus had been on Zheng Nanfang and she hadn’t paid attention to those ambiguous questions.

Now, Laili finally understood.

Dizziness gnawed at her consciousness. As she struggled to sit up, her hand brushed something hard.

She moved her hand aside—it was a withered human hand.

Looking up along the arm, she saw a shriveled corpse, skin and muscle clinging to bone, abdomen sunken, slumped quietly beside her.

Laili felt dazed. She brushed the sand from the corpse’s body. The corpse’s tank top and shorts were still faintly recognizable in color, the hair matted, eye sockets deep, a gash in the forehead exposing dried, shrunken, grayish brain tissue.

Beside the corpse were many others in the same position, some so far gone that only broken skulls poked above the sand—dozens in all.

Laili gave a bitter laugh.

…

Outside Upper City, on the wasteland.

A black off-road vehicle drove into a mountain hollow and stopped.

Jin Ling, clad in an ill-fitting uniform, jumped out, scanned her surroundings to ensure safety, and squatted in a clump of brush.

After attending to nature’s call, she returned to the car, lit a cigarette left by the driver, closed her eyes, and massaged her temples, brow tightly furrowed as if straining to sense something.

“Old Meng, can you hear me?” she murmured softly.

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After who knows how long, Jin Ling’s eyes flew open. Her vision was now of a stark, white-walled cell.

“You escaped?” came Meng Chang’s exhausted voice in her ear.

Jin Ling nodded, which from the outside looked like she was talking to herself.

&&&

Jin Ling: “Thanks to your warning, I was prepared.”

Meng Chang: “Good. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this.”

Jin Ling: “We’re a collective—no need for apologies. But I do have to scold you: why did you have my address and information at your place?”

Meng Chang: “Sorry, it’s a research habit… I like to write everything down and make lists…”

Jin Ling: “So Nanfang and Laili are exposed too?”

Meng Chang: “No, I know very little about either of them—there was nothing to write down.”

Jin Ling: “Forget it. Where are you? Should I come rescue you?”

Meng Chang: “No, your escape will soon be discovered. They’ll come after you, and if you come here, you’ll be walking into a trap.”

Jin Ling: “Then what should I do?”

Meng Chang: “Go find Nanfang, but you can’t set foot in Raw Meat Town.”

Jin Ling: “What do you mean? How can I find him if I don’t go in?”

Meng Chang: “There’s a problem with the route chosen for this road race—there’s a fissure there.”

Jin Ling: “Speak plainly.”

Meng Chang: “Put it this way: between Raw Meat Town and the Domed Fishery, everything in between is affected by the fissure.”

Jin Ling: “What’s a fissure?”

Meng Chang: “Think of it as an upgraded Hive—like the difference between a snail and an ox, or a gecko and a tiger… does that make sense?”

Jin Ling: “So, Nanfang is already inside the Hive?”

Meng Chang: “Yes. From the day he arrived at Raw Meat Town, he was in the Hive, just on the outskirts so the influence was weak. When he left the town, our telepathic link broke—I believe he’s now in the center.”

Jin Ling: “So what should I do? If I can’t go in, how do I find him? I haven’t taken any inhibitors, but I still can’t reach him.”

Meng Chang: “There’s nothing I can do either—I was too hasty to report up the chain. Protect yourself, lie low nearby, and wait it out. As long as Nanfang survives, he’ll eventually leave the Hive center. I believe he’ll figure things out. Once he’s out, you should be able to reach him.”

Jin Ling: “Understood. What about you?”

Meng Chang: “Don’t worry about me. If the experimental group can’t catch you, and they can’t prove me guilty, they probably won’t do anything to me. You focus on reuniting with Nanfang—then we’ll figure my situation out.”

Jin Ling: “Alright. Take care. I’ll contact you once I find Nanfang.”

Meng Chang: “Mm… By the way, yesterday I saw someone through Laili’s eyes—I’d seen him at the Eastern Hive’s lockdown, he’s an executive at headquarters.”

Jin Ling: “Meaning? Could Laili’s parents also be high-ranking in your company?”

Meng Chang: “I’m not sure. Laili wasn’t at the meeting, I just glimpsed him through her eyes—a one-eyed man. Once you’re safe, try to get in touch with Laili, see if you can find anything out.”