China

by Scott M. Baker

  In any case, nothing would ever get accomplished if he stood around whining about how things had panned out. Jason guzzled the last of his coffee and headed back to the stables. The others had finished breakfast and were packing to leave. Jason tracked down Ustagov.

  “Where are we now?”

  “Let’s check.” The doctor removed the map and spread it out along the wall. He held up one end while Jason held the other. Ustagov ran his index finger across the surface for a few seconds before stopping and pressing it against the paper. “We’re here, near Changtu.”

  “How long before we get to Shenyang?”

  “If we keep this pace, it should be another four days.” Ustagov refolded the map. “Of course, that’s if the portal is in or near Shenyang.”

  “It’s all we have to go on for now. Hopefully as we get closer—”

  “Excuse me.” Sasha stepped up to the two men. “Jason, you need to see this.”

  They headed outside where the others stood by the fence. A dozen horses came up the G1 from the south, left the road, and approached the stable. The four horsemen in the lead each carried bows and quivers of arrows, keeping the weapons draped across their shoulders so that they posed no imminent threat. The remaining horseman stayed farther to the rear. Jason wanted to play it safe.

  “Are your people still on perimeter watch?” Jason asked Father Belsario.

  “Yes.”

  “Keep them there in case this is a diversion.” He spoke louder so the others could hear. “Father Belsario, Haneef, and I will meet them. The rest of you cover us. Don’t raise your weapons or fire unless they do so first. If they try anything, take them down.”

  “You got it,” said Ustagov.

  Jason patted Lucifer and Lilith. “Stay here.”

  The two werehounds whimpered but obeyed.

  Jason opened the gate to the fence and headed out to greet the horsemen. Father Belsario stayed several paces behind on his left with Haneef on his right. Jason and Haneef kept their AK-47s slung over their shoulders. Father Belsario draped her cloak over the handle of his broadsword. When the two groups were fifty feet apart, Jason stopped and held up his hands.

  “That’s close enough.”

  The horsemen halted. The apparent leader of the group, who wore Ray-Bans, spread his arms beside him with his hands facing Jason. “I mean you no harm.”

  “So far we haven’t met anyone in this region who has been friendly to us.”

  “Sadly, no one trusts each other in China anymore.”

  “Then you understand what I’m talking about.”

  “My name is Qiang.” He spurred his horse forward and slowly approached Jason, his right hand outstretched.

  “I said that’s close enough.”

  Qiang stopped short. His expression became angry and insulted.

  From the rear of the horsemen a familiar voice cried out, “Jason, it’s okay.”

  A horse moved from the back of the group and circled around. Sook-kyoung rode in the saddle, with the saddle bag containing the missing anti-matter device draped beside her leg. She looked tired and haggard; most of them probably did. Sook-kyoung stopped in front of Jason.

  “Qiang’s people found me two days ago and have been taking care of me. They’re friendly and they have the same goal we do.”

  “That’s true,” added Qiang, his good nature having returned. “Our purpose is to close the… what do you call it? Oh yes, the portal.”

  “You know where it is?” Jason asked.

  Qiang nodded. “We’ve been trying to shut it since it opened, but without success. Sook-kyoung says you have a way to succeed where we failed.”

  “I trust them,” said Sook-kyoung. “You should, too.”

  Jason met her gaze, studying it for any indication of fear, lying, or coercion. Instead, Sook-kyoung’s eyes pleaded with him to believe her. He used his sixth sense to scan for negative auras, either from her or the horsemen. He detected nothing malignant. Jason stepped over to Sook-kyoung.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  She nodded.

  Closing the gap with Qiang, Jason extended his hand. Qiang leaned over in his saddle and gave it a firm pump.

  “My name’s Jason. Forgive me if I’m a little paranoid.”

  “Everybody in China has to be cautious these days. It’s hard to know who’s a friend and who’s an enemy.”

  “Qiang has a lot to fill you in on,” added Sook-kyoung.

  “My camp is a few miles from here,” said Qiang. “It’s in a safer location and is better defended. We should go there to talk.”

  “Why can’t we stay here?”

  “Jason,” said Sook-kyoung. “Trust Qiang on this. You have no idea how big of a shit storm we’ve walked into.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Mei’s people had broken camp right after breakfast, including the tent Jeanette and her group stayed in. It had taken less than fifteen minutes to get ready to move out, and the Demon Hunters waited for the larger group to get underway.

  Antoine moved up alongside of Jeanette. “Are you still planning on going with them?”

  “They’re the only ones who know where the portal is. Once we do, we can find the others and lead them to it.”

  “They could point it out to us on a map.”

  “They’re just gung-ho about being hospitable.”

  Antoine leaned close, so no one could hear him. “Don’t you find these people strange?”

  “Of course. They’re as odd as a three-franc note. They’ve been through a lot. After spending so many months in the field, I bet we’d seem odd to the folks back home.”

  “These people give me the creeps.”

  “I can’t argue with you on that.” Jeanette faced Antoine. “I’ll tell you what. If we start getting negative feelings about these people, we’ll go our own way. In the meantime, I’ll chat with Mei and see if she’ll tell me where the portal is. Does that sound okay?”

  “A little bit.” Antoine did not sound completely convinced.

  Mei walked up to the group and slid her hands around Jeanette’s. “Are you still coming with us?”

  “We planned to.”

  “Perfect.” Mei squeezed lovingly and let go. “Follow us. We have to make a quick stop a few hours from here, and then we’ll take you to the gate.”

  “Thanks.”

  Five minutes later, the caravan departed and headed southeast.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Qiang was correct about his compound being better defended. His people had established themselves in what once had been an illegal steel mill hastily erected in the countryside. A ten-foot-high concrete wall cordoned off several hundred acres of land. Beyond the barrier, thirteen smokestacks and cooling towers dotted the skyline. Immense piles of coal and stone channeled the horsemen toward the wall until they eventually emerged into a one-hundred-foot-wide clearing. An old school bus, its yellow paint long since faded and the exposed metal surfaces rusted, blocked the entrance from the inside. Upon spotting Qiang, a woman in a makeshift guard tower mounted on top of the wall shouted to someone below. Seconds later, three men rolled the school bus across the entrance, allowing the returnees to enter, then pushed the vehicle back across the opening.

  The inside of the compound appeared less accommodating than the surrounding countryside. A few large structures dotted the area, most either made of poorly-poured concrete or corroded corrugated iron walls. Not far from the entrance, a dilapidated trailer that once served as an office had been converted into a chicken coop. Rivulets of steel wound their way through the compound where molten overflows had haphazardly coursed. The current occupants had attempted to clean up the factory as much as possible, pushing garbage, debris, and old machinery into the many cooling pits that pocked the landscape to get them out of sight. It did little to help. Soot and grime covered everything, and not a tree or blade of grass were visible. The Chinese had gouged out this portion of the land and not even time would be able
to restore it.

  As they made their way through camp, Jason observed guards in makeshift towers along the walls every two hundred feet, plus another fifty mounted horsemen, each armed with a bow and arrow, and as many camp followers. A dozen horsemen conducted target practice in an open area bordered on three sides by parked trucks. One by one, they rode at full gallop past stacked bales of hay with a circular piece of cloth one foot in diameter attached. With few exceptions, all the arrows struck the cloth, even at distances of one hundred feet.

  “Your archery skills are impressive,” said Jason.

  “Thank you,” Qiang replied. “We had to become skilled bowmen by necessity. Guns were outlawed in China under the Communists. After the End of Days, there were very few weapons for people to defend themselves, and those that were available ran out of ammunition quickly. Bows had the advantage that they were easy to make, and after a battle you can retrieve your arrows. You can’t do that with bullets.”

  Ustagov made his way to the head of the line. “You adopted the Mongolian horse archery tactics perfected by Genghis Khan.”

  “It was the only standard we had to go by,” Qiang replied. “It took us months before we got anywhere near as good as we are now. That’s why our enemies refer to us at the Xiongnu.”

  “Xiongnu?”

  “It’s the name of the ancient horsemen who came from Mongolia.”

  “And who are your enemies?”

  “They’re not just our enemy. They’re the enemy of everyone in north China. If you’re here to destroy the mén qù jiùshú, then they’re your enemy as well.”

  “Mén qù jiùshú?” Ustagov asked.

  “That’s the Sataners’ name for it. What you would call the ‘Gate to Salvation’.” Qiang pointed to a structure made of corrugated steel in the center of the compound. “I’ll explain everything once we get inside.”

  Ten minutes later, Qiang and Jason’s people were seated on worn pillows that had experienced better days and were being served tea in plastic cups by some of the camp’s women. When the ladies left, Qiang began his explanation.

  “When the gate opened north of Shenyang, most Chinese thought little about it. We assumed the government would take care of it, which they did. Well, they tried to. The People’s Liberation Army was no match for those from the Underworld. For the first few weeks, the battles were fierce. The PLA had some early success, but they could not control the number of demons coming through. Rumors spread that Beijing planned to use nuclear weapons to blast the gate out of existence but decided against it after what happened in Moscow. After three weeks of fighting, Beijing withdrew its military and left north China to its fate. That’s when the Sataners formed. They feel China is being punished for forsaking God and embracing Communism, and that God no longer cares. They don’t view the opening of the gate as something disastrous, but as a harbinger of their impending salvation. To save themselves, the Sataners made a deal with Satan.”

  “That must have worked out well for them,” chuckled Sasha.

  “Actually, it did. An arrangement was reached in which Hell regulated the number of demons coming through.”

  “You’re joking.” Father Belsario sounded incredulous.

  Qiang shook his head. “Hordes of soulless wanderers used to walk the land, plus every other monstrosity the Underworld had to offer. Some made it as far north as Harbin and to the Korean Peninsula. Hell pulled back most of its demons and keeps them close to the gate to protect it. All except the giant insects, which have a mind of their own. Those creatures still roam at will, which you found out the hard way. Now you can travel for days and not spot a single demon.”

  “What did Hell get in return?” Jason asked.

  “The Sataners round up any humans they find and sacrifice their souls.”

  “The Sataners murder them?”

  “Murder would be a blessing.” Qiang paused. “Those to be sacrificed are slaughtered and their bodies used to make the monstrous humanoids that guard the gate.”

  Ustagov went pale. “Dear God.”

  Jason turned to the doctor. “What?”

  “He’s talking about the Golem.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “Remember in my lab in Moscow? The Golem I autopsied? I told you that it had been constructed from hundreds of human body parts drawn together. Then we came across the decimation field outside of Changchun. The Sataners are butchering humans and transforming them into Golem.”

  “The Sataners are not doing the butchering,” said Qiang. “That’s being done by the vilest abomination to come through from the Underworld. We’ve been trying to track her down and kill her for months with no success.”

  “That’s why we haven’t come across anybody since we left Harbin,” said Sook-kyoung.

  “And why that town attacked us,” added Sasha. “They must have thought we were Sataners.”

  Qiang shook his head with frustration. “Except for us and a few villages that stood their ground, everyone northeast of Beijing has either been rounded up by the Sataners or has fled. That’s why we were leery of contacting you when you first arrived. We weren’t sure if you were the ones we had heard about, wanderers, or followers coming to join the Sataners.”

  Father Belsario sat forward. “What do you mean ‘the ones we had heard about’?”

  “For months, rumors have spread across Asia about a group of adventurers who had closed a gate in west Europe. We ignored them, dismissing them as stories people made up to bolster morale. Then we heard how those same adventurers closed gates in Moscow and Siberia. We started to feel optimistic, hoping there may be some truth to the rumors. Then you showed up in Harbin.”

  “Wait,” interrupted Jason. “You’ve been watching us since Harbin?”

  Qiang nodded.

  “Why didn’t you contact us?”

  “We had to be certain you weren’t a threat. After you were attacked by the residents of Shaoguodi and didn’t seek revenge, we felt you could be trusted. Before we could make contact, you ran into the giant worms and got separated in the dust storm.”

  “They found me the morning after the storm ended,” said Sook-kyoung. “They’ve treated me well since then. I trust them.”

  “We were about to reach out to the other members of your team. Before we could, they were taken in by the Sataners.”

  “Are they all right?” Jason blurted.

  “They are, for now. They’re at the Sataners camp not far from here.”

  “Why didn’t you rescue them?’

  “Because they willingly joined with the Sataners, which raised doubts. We wanted to contact you first to determine whether you were allies or a potential threat.”

  “How do you feel now?” Jason asked.

  “That our two sides can work together.”

  “Then can we save our friends?”

  “It’s already in the works,” Qiang reassured him. “We’re going to sneak into their compound tonight, pull out your friends, and kill the Sataners. We wanted you there to make sure we didn’t harm any of your people.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Father Belsario. “You’re planning on murdering the Sataners in their sleep.”

  “Yes.” Qiang held up his hand to stop the cleric. “I know it seems cruel, but considering the suffering they’ve brought on others, it’s actually a quite merciful—”

  One of Qiang’s horseman raced into the structure, panting for breath. A heated conversation took place in Mandarin. Qiang jumped up.

  “There’s been a change in plans. The Sataners moved out a few hours ago and are heading toward Doujiatun.” Qiang turned to Jason. “And your friends are with them.”

  Jason stood up. “What does that mean?”

  “It means if we don’t reach them in time, they’re dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Mei’s group traveled all morning and into the early afternoon. Jeanette wondered if they intended to break for lunch. She was about to go forward and talk t
o Mei when the column stopped. A moment later, a rider came back and paused by Jeanette.

  “Mei want you… all you… to join her at front.”

  “Let’s go.”

  The rider led them forward. Mei waited at the crest of a hill. At the base sat the village of Doujiatun. Its defenses were far inferior to the town she and Jason had come across a few days back. Other than being surrounded on three sides by a river and its estuary, this village had no defenses except for a guard tower near the entrance along the main road, and no one manned it.

  Jeanette brought her horse alongside Mei. “Is this your stop?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are we doing here? Will we be long?”

  “We’re here to sacrifice this town to the glory of Satan. You’re here to bear witness to the splendid event.”

  Before the words fully sunk in, Jeanette heard weapons being cocked. Glancing over her shoulder, a dozen of Mei’s people had formed a semi-circle around her and the others, aiming and ready to fire. Another dozen approached. Four grabbed the reins and steadied the animals. Four others pulled Ian and Vicky off their mounts, confiscated their AK-47s, and tied their hands behind their backs. Antoine fought back, kicking out with his right leg and smashing his boot into the face of the man attempting to take his Kalashnikov, breaking his jaw. The man dropped to his knees and cried. A set of hands grabbed Antoine from the left and pulled him out of his saddle. Once on the ground, the man hit Antoine on the head with the stock of his automatic rifle.

  “Bai doesn’t want him dead, she wants him subdued,” warned Mei.

  The beating stopped. The man yanked Antoine to his feet.

  The last two approached Jeanette’s horse. “Why are you doing this? We’re no threat to you.”

  “You are a threat. You’re here to shut the Gate to Salvation.”

  “You… you want to keep it open?”

  “My dear, God walked away from China when China replaced Christianity with Communism. When the door opened, we had no divine grace to intervene on our behalf. There was nothing in this part of the world except dismay, death, and destruction. Bai changed all that. She agreed to recall those from the Underworld and bring peace to the region in exchange for our cooperation.”