China

by Scott M. Baker

  Sasha hoped this worked. She may have been immortal, but she was not immune from pain.

  Jason rode up behind Slava. He did not have much time.

  “Get on!”

  Slava climbed to his feet, his left arm dangling beside him. Reaching out and taking his right hand, Jason helped the Russian climb onto the back of his horse. A bullet whizzed by the animal’s head, causing it to buck. Slava slid back to the ground.

  “Get out of here,” he ordered. “I can make it on foot.”

  “You won’t make it very far.”

  The gunfire shifted away from him and Slava as Sasha, Matthew, and Luther drew attention away from them. They had only a few seconds. Jason held out his hand. “Move your ass.”

  Slava grabbed the hand and hoisted himself up, this time sliding behind Jason. Spinning his horse in the direction of the hillock, Jason rode as fast as possible for cover.

  Sasha attempted to create as much of a distraction as possible. She charged the front gate, weaving in no pattern so the attackers could not predict her next move, hoping to draw enough fire onto her so Jason and Slava could get away. It worked. An increasing number of rounds slammed into the dirt around her or passed close by, one tearing through the folds of her cloak. Off to her left, Matthew and Luther were drawing away the rest of the fire. Thank God the attackers were firing single shots; if this had been automatic weapon’s fire, none of them would have made it this far.

  When Jason and Slava reached the hillock, Sasha broke off her diversionary charge and headed back. At that moment, the gunfire from the town shifted onto Jason again. Her heart sank when his body jerked and a cloud of blood formed around his shoulder.

  Jason had made it to within a few yards of the safety of the hillock when the barrage of bullets shifted in his direction. Two passed by his head close enough that he could hear them, the rest punched harmlessly into the ground. In a couple of seconds, he and Slava would—

  A bolt of pain shot through him as a bullet slammed into his left shoulder. The force of the blow pushed him forward and would have knocked him out of his saddle if Slava hadn’t grabbed his waist and held him in place. An agony he had never experienced before replaced the initial shock. Thankfully, his horse rounded the hillock before any other rounds found their mark.

  Lilith and Lucifer rushed over to greet him, the latter standing on his hind legs and resting his front paws on the horse’s flank to get closer to his master. Jason leaned over to pet him. As he did, another jolt of pain shot down his arm, momentarily clogging his thinking. Jeanette and Ustagov joined him a moment later.

  “Oh my God,” Jeanette gasped as she saw the blood staining his winter coat.

  Ustagov moved her out of the way to examine the wound. “I can’t tell from here. It doesn’t look fatal, though. You’re not gushing blood, so the bullet didn’t hit an artery. Come down and let me check it.”

  “Later. Right now, we have to get out of here.” Jason shook his head to clear his mind. “Fall back and regroup.”

  Sasha rode up a moment later, moving up on Jason’s right. When she got her first good luck at the wound, her eyes widened in fear. “Will you be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Jason replied.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, he’s not,” Ustagov protested. “And I won’t know for certain until he allows me to examine him.”

  “It can wait.” Jason’s tone warned there would be no further discussion. At that moment, Matthew and Luther rode around the other side of the hillock. “Everybody mount up and follow me. And keep your eyes open in case they try to follow us.”

  A minute later, Jason led his team north up the G1.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jason took his team two miles up the G1 until they were out of sight of Shaoguodi. They then headed west, circling around Biangangxiang and making their way through fallow farmland and fields. He avoided every town and village in case lookouts had been placed there. To be certain they were not being followed, he asked Luther and Gabriel to fall back and watch their rear. Two hours after sunset, the team came upon a wooded area located eight miles southwest of Shaoguodi and isolated from other population centers. Jason ordered everyone to settle down for the night and to keep the horses tied up nearby in case they needed to make a quick escape. As the others tended to their preparations and organized the watch, Gaston built a fire and made a deflector shield out of tree branches and blankets to prevent the flames from being observed by any search parties that might be scouting for them. Twenty minutes after camp had been set up, Jason, Slava, and Father Belsario sat around the fire having their wounds tended to by Ustagov and Vicky. Lucifer and Lilith stayed close by Jason, who had his flight suit unzipped and pulled down around his waist. He draped the blood-stained winter coat over his right shoulder and side to keep warm. Jeanette and Sasha sat beside the werehounds, petting them.

  Ustagov opened a bottle of rubbing alcohol, wet a clean cloth, and dabbed the open wound. Jason gasped.

  “Damn, that hurts.”

  “It’s going to hurt a lot more as it heals.”

  Jason remained stoic. “How bad is it?”

  “You lucked out.”

  “Are you serious? I was shot.”

  “It’s a clean wound. It went through muscle and did little damage.” Ustagov reached into his medic’s bag and withdrew the sewing kit. “An inch to the left and the bullet would have punctured your artery and you would have bled out. An inch to the right and it would have shattered your shoulder blade. The downside is I can’t properly fix it out here in the field, so you may lose some mobility in your arm.”

  “It’s better than the alternative.”

  “That’s for sure.” Ustagov turned to Vicky. “How’s Slava’s arm?”

  “It’s not broken, and I don’t think it’s fractured.”

  “Are you sure?” Slava asked. “It’s killing me.”

  Ustagov stepped over and felt the limb. Slava winced.

  “What’s the pain level on a scale of one to ten?”

  “Five.” Slave shrugged. “Maybe six.”

  “If you had broken your arm you’d be experiencing a steady ten.” The doctor placed one hand under Slava’s forearm and raised it at a ninety-degree angle.

  “Shit!”

  “You bruised the muscles pretty bad when you fell. You’re going to be in a lot of pain for the next week or two, but it’ll heal. Exercise it and keep it active so the muscles don’t get stiff. Vicky will give you some pain meds.”

  “Morphine?” Slava asked hopefully.

  “Ibuprofen.”

  “Thanks,” said Slava with much less enthusiasm.

  Ustagov patted Slava on his good shoulder. After Vicky handed the Russian four caplets, the doctor asked her, “Do you know how to stitch a wound?”

  “I once watched my dad sew up a neighbor’s arm.”

  “Finish off Jason, please. I want to check on Father Belsario.”

  “No need for that,” said the cleric, who sat propped up against a tree. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I doubt that. You took a bullet to the gut. It’ll be a miracle if it doesn’t go septic.”

  “The wound will heal on its own in a day or two.”

  “You’re in pain, right?”

  The cleric nodded.

  Ustagov reached into the medic’s bag. “Let me give you something to ease it.”

  “Save it for someone else. It won’t work on me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “We don’t need food, water, or sleep because they do not affect us. The same holds true for medicine.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Father Belsario nodded and laid back against the tree to rest.

  “I’d like to know why that town fired on us without warning,” said Jeanette. “We weren’t a threat.”

  “They were probably paranoid.” Jason winced as Vicky inserted the needle underneath the skin on his shoulder. Lucifer whimpered and tr
ied to go over to him; Sasha held him and scratched behind his ears.

  “No one would blame them after what this world has become.” Ustagov sat down in front of the fire and took a drink from his canteen. “We can’t rule out the possibility that there’s a serious threat somewhere out here.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jeanette.

  Ustagov screwed the top back on the canteen. “That town was the first people we’ve seen since arriving at Harbin. Everyone else cleared out a long time ago.”

  “Maybe they’re dead,” offered Sasha.

  “We’d have come across the bodies. This part of China isn’t devastated, it’s abandoned. Maybe there’s a horde of Demon Spawn roaming the countryside we haven’t run into yet, though I doubt it. If that were the case, you’d think that town would be happy to have others join their ranks, as we did with you in Moscow. My guess is there’s a group of humans out here so scary the locals will shoot anyone who comes near.”

  “What he says makes sense,” said Slava.

  “That also puts us in an unenviable position,” added Father Belsario. “If the doctor is correct, that means not only can’t we trust anyone we come across, they might also prove as big a threat to us as the demons.”

  “Shit.” This time Jason directed his cussing toward the situation and not the pain in his shoulder.

  “So how do we proceed?” Jeanette asked.

  “No change in plans, just a change in tactics. I want to stay off the road for the next few days in case the residents of that town decide to hunt us. Doc, plot a route to Shenyang that avoids areas of population.”

  “It won’t be easy. The closer we get to the city, the more towns and villages we’ll run into.”

  “I understand but do your best. The longer we can delay another run-in with the locals the better our chances of figuring out how to survive them. Slava, do you feel well enough to make the rounds and brief those on watch about what we discussed.”

  “I do.”

  “The rest of you get some sleep. We have to replace those on watch in a few hours.”

  Slava went off to update the rest of the team and Ustagov went back to the horses to retrieve the map. A few minutes later, Vicky finished stitching the wound and covered it with a bandage. “Done.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you need any painkillers?”

  Jason rolled his shoulder. The pain was excruciating, yet he refused to admit it. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind.” She squeezed his good shoulder. “Your fan club is waiting.”

  As Vicky left, Lucifer jumped up and trotted over to Jason. The werehound sniffed the wound for several seconds and licked around the bandage. Jason wrapped his good arm around Lucifer’s neck, pulled him close, and kissed him on the top of his head. Lilith rushed over to get in on the affection. When he finally got a chance to breathe, Jason nodded to Sasha.

  “Thanks for saving our lives today.”

  Sasha beamed. “You’re welcome.”

  “That was quick thinking on your part.” Jason slid on the upper portion of his flight suit, grimacing as he maneuvered his left arm into the sleeve. “Slava and I might not be here if it wasn’t for you.”

  “I was worried about you.” Sasha realized her comment came out wrong and backtracked. “I mean all three of you.”

  Jeanette stood and stormed off.

  Sasha sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I don’t mean to cause problems between you two.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Yes, it is.” Sasha got to her feet, all the time avoiding eye contact. “I have to go keep watch. I’ll check on you in the morning.”

  Lucifer watched Sasha leave and glanced up at his master with a confused expression on his face. Jason shrugged, not entirely sure he knew what had happened. He did not notice the stern, disapproving glower Father Belsario gave Sasha as she departed.

  When she stepped out of earshot, Jason scooted closer to Father Belsario. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “How come none of the others who have died, like Werner and Neal, have come back as Purgatoriati?”

  “Only those consigned to Purgatory can return to Earth. My guess is that your team members who died in combat have all ascended into Heaven.”

  “Or gone to Hell?”

  Father Belsario chuckled. “Considering all that you’ve done, and the sacrifices you’ve made to rid the world of the portals, I’m confident their previous sins have been forgiven, and they’ve been granted salvation.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Jason thought for a moment. “I have another question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “You intimated earlier that Sasha has a pivotal role to play in the closing of the portals. What type of role?”

  The cleric grew somber. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both.” Father Belsario held up a hand, cutting off Jason. “There is no mythical prophecy that Sasha is fulfilling that I’m hiding from you. However, there are certain aspects of being a member of the Purgatoriati, when combined with Sasha’s affection for you, which could prove decisive in the future.”

  “And you won’t tell me anything more?”

  “If I did, it could negatively influence what you need to do.”

  “You’re saying that if I know what you do, it might cause me to make decisions that would result in us not closing the portals?”

  “Nothing that severe.”

  “At least you’re not vague,” Jason said sarcastically.

  “Sorry.”

  Jason paused for several moments as he absorbed the information. “One more question. Will how I treat Sasha have an impact on whether we succeed?”

  Father Belsario shook his head. “No.”

  “Good.”

  “Can I offer a friendly word of advice? I realize you and Sasha have strong feelings for each other and may want to consummate them. I understand that, but caution against it. What you two do together will have little impact on how events play out.” Father Belsario stood, taking a moment to steady his legs. “However, how you feel about Sasha, especially when you find out what is special about her, could have a major impact on a personal decision you may face. That’s a call you alone will have to make, and something only you will have to live with. Choose wisely.”

  The cleric limped away, leaving Jason alone with the werehounds.

  * * *

  Qiang watched the outsiders from half a mile away from an old irrigation ditch that cut through the farmland adjacent to the woods. Those near the campfire were relatively easy to make out, while the others blended into the shadows. He assessed the latter posed no threat to him unless he attempted to approach, which he had no intention of doing. At this stage, he only wanted to observe their behavior and determine their motivations, yet that raised as many questions as it answered, and piqued his fascination with the outsiders.

  “They don’t act like the others,” Min whispered, even though he stood only two feet from Qiang. “They withdrew from Shaoguodi rather than attack.”

  “That doesn’t mean they don’t pose a threat. You saw the way they extradited themselves from that situation. These people are militarily trained, which means they could cause trouble.”

  “What do you want to do about them?”

  Qiang thought for a moment. He had ruled out the possibility that the outsiders were simply passing through; they seemed determined to reach Shenyang as soon as possible, which meant they would be in his territory for quite a while. That left only one viable option.

  “Have Deng go back and round up the others. Once we have the numbers, we’ll contact these people and find out if they’re friendly or if they need to be eliminated.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, only Father Belsario felt better, the pain having subsided from excruciating to piercing. Slava could barely move his left arm when he wo
ke because the muscles ached so badly. Jason’s wound throbbed from the front of his shoulder all the way to the back, and it only grew worse after being jostled around in a saddle.

  The team made their way toward Shenyang through the open territory west of the G1, detouring around any towns or villages they came across, thankfully without incident. They had traveled all morning, took a lunch break near an old grain silo, and continued. Shortly after noon, a steady breeze rose from the south. Twenty minutes later, a strong gust wafted over them, bringing with it a stench both sickeningly sweet and nauseatingly disgusting.

  “What smells so bad?” Antoine asked.

  Jeanette gagged. “It’s horrible.”

  “It reminds me of the slaughterhouse outside the town where I grew up,” said Slava.

  “Except the slaughterhouses all shut down with the EMP.” Jason steered his horse toward Ustagov, who had already removed his map and laid it out in his saddle. “Do you have any idea where we are?”

  The doctor studied the map. “According to this, we’re thirty-five miles north of Changchun in the middle of nowhere. The closest village is five miles away.”

  Another gust blew from the south, again bringing with it the horrible stench. Gaston leaned to one side and vomited. Lilith and Lucifer huddled closer to Jason’s horse.

  “What is that?” Ian asked.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” answered Jason. He pointed to a rise a mile away. “It’s coming from that direction.”

  “That may not be a good idea,” warned Father Belsario.

  “I agree,” added Haneef. “We have no idea what’s causing that.”

  “We’re going to find out one way or the other.” Jason spurred his horse in that direction. “I’d rather do it on my terms.”