by Chu, Wesley
That woman could have been his twin. They had the same face; both were thin and lanky. Zhu’s younger sister, interestingly, looked more assured and seasoned than Zhu ever had. Elena kept her distance, watching as the young woman worked her way through the crowd. She was popular; everyone wanted to talk to her. Elena could tell that when she spoke, people listened. People looked up to her. She might not yet, but Chen Ahui was going to run this village one day.
Eventually, Meili pulled Ahui away from her adoring fans and dragged her over. Elena couldn’t help but feel nervous. Had they already poisoned her opinion of Elena? At least Meili was making the introduction. Elena counted Meili as her only friend at the village. She was the only one who voluntarily spoke with Elena and ate with her.
The women met between the bicycle wagon and the hollowed-out minivan. They had already heard much about each other, had already sized each other up. They were connected, in a way, through Zhu. Elena didn’t know how much that meant to Ahui. Her love for the man did not justify her crimes to these people.
Elena wasn’t surprised when Ahui took the initiative. No sooner were they within arm’s length than Ahui reached out and embraced Elena. “Meili told me you were the most important person in Wenzhu’s life. That makes you one of the most important people in mine as well.”
That came as a shock. Out of all the ways for Zhu’s sister to greet her, warmth was the last thing Elena expected. A little sliver of her soul, a taut hanging thread, snapped. Elena wept as she held on to this stranger. She squeezed Ahui close and buried her head in the woman’s shoulder. There were so many things she wanted to tell her, to explain, to apologize for. So many emotions she needed to let out. It was all Elena could do not to let it tumble out at that very moment. She had to remind herself to keep it in for just a while longer.
To her credit, Ahui was patient. She stood there and held Elena, letting her work through all of it. Finally, Elena managed to speak. “Do you want to see Zhu now?”
Ahui nodded. The two left the main group and made their way across the circle toward a horse trailer at the rear of the caravan. Elena turned the large bolt and slid it down. She glanced at Ahui hesitantly, then went inside.
It was dark here except for the thin beams of light slanting down from the windows near the ceiling. The trailer was cluttered with boxes of clothing, Buddhist shrines and other nonessentials like paper, pencils, and books. It held basically everything they did not need on their journey to survive, but would need to build a new society.
Something shifted in the darkness. Elena could make out a silhouette in the corner, leaning against the wall. A man, rail thin and stooped. He made a coughing sound and turned awkwardly. Ahui gently pushed Elena aside and stepped deeper into the trailer. “Wenzhu, is that you? It’s Ahui.”
Elena sucked in a deep breath as Zhu, head still leaning against the wall, lurched forward until the chains binding his neck stopped him. His mouth was covered with a leather mask and his hand was bound behind his back, but otherwise Wenzhu looked very much like he did before he had died.
“Oh, gē. You look terrible.” Ahui turned to Elena. “How did it happen?”
“We were fleeing the Beacon of Light. A jiāngshī bit his ankle,” Elena explained. “We immediately amputated his leg above his knee and cauterized the wound, hoping it would stave off the infection. At first we thought it had worked. We made it back to the village. The morning we set out to leave for the Precipitous Pillars, Zhu took ill again. We amputated the rest of his infected leg, but by then it was too late.”
Ahui looked away, her eyes wet. “You should have just killed him.”
Elena blinked back her own tears. “I wanted to, but Zhu made me promise. Before the life left his eyes, he asked for three things: to protect the village and help them reach you, to give him the chance to be buried by your side, and to make sure he sees you one last time. I didn’t want you to see him like this”—she shook her head—“but I couldn’t deny him his dying wish.”
A long silence passed between them. It was finally broken by the sound of a blade hissing from its sheath. “I understand. I’d like to spend some time alone with my brother now. Consider your promise to Wenzhu fulfilled.”
Elena nodded. She forced herself to look at Zhu one last time, mouthing a final “I love you” before turning away. She pushed that image out of her head and replaced it with the one of them having dinner that night she was supposed to return to the United States. Back when he was so innocent and vibrant, and they were in love.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
When I got the phone call from my editor at Skybound, Mike Braff, asking me if I was interested in writing a “Walking Dead book set in Asia. Anything you want,” I initially thought I couldn’t do it because I didn’t have the bandwidth.
However, over the next few days, I began to think about all the possibilities with this project, and quickly zeroed in on China as an incredible setting. How would a country of one billion people with barely any firearms deal with a zombie infestation? How would their government and people survive in that very unique part of the world? My imagination ran wild. Eventually, I knew I couldn’t say no: I had to do this book! I called up my agent and asked him to work with the editor to make it happen.
You’re holding the result of those conversations in your hands right now.
Publishing is not unlike a zombie apocalypse: it’s terribly slow and messy, filled with terror and angst, and often leads to dead ends. To survive in publishing, you need the right band of people to have your back. If you don’t, you just wind up joining the herd. But if you do, you could end up with something special.
There are many people responsible for making Typhoon happen. So, here goes.
Thanks to Joe, Madison, LJ, and all the wonderful folks at Simon & Schuster. To all the folks at Skybound: To art director Andres and artist Jasper for creating this amazing cover. To Shauna for helping launch this book into the world. To Kate for helping make things happen. Big thanks to Sean, who gave us the freedom to stretch our minds but also waded into the trenches when necessary.
And a special thanks to Robert, who immediately saw the vision and allowed me to be part of his incredible world full of vivid, iconic characters.
To my editor, Mike: You’re the guy who made this happen. From the first phone call when you told me to think big to the very last edits on the smallest changes, you were patient, you were methodical, and you deviled the details.
To my agent, Russ: It’s been a long journey. I would have gotten lost a hundred times over and chewed up by some zombie along the way if it hadn’t been for your guidance, gentle (and otherwise) correction, and constant support.
Finally, to all you readers: Thank you for picking up the book and experiencing this journey alongside me. We make a fine team.
More from the Author
The Red Scrolls of Magic
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
WESLEY CHU won the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. His debut novel, The Lives of Tao, earned him a Young Adult Library Services Association Alex Award and a Science Fiction Goodreads Choice Award top 10 slot. He is also the coauthor of the Eldest Curses series with Cassandra Clare, which debuted at #1 on the New York Times bestseller list.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Wesley-Chu
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GLOSSARY
bà:
dad
dàgē:
b
ig brother
dì:
little brother (abbreviated)
gē:
big brother (abbreviated)
gŭzhēng:
also known as a Chinese zither; a plucked string instrument with a history that stretches back more than 2,500 years
Hànzì:
Chinese characters
húndàn:
asshole, bastard
jiāngshī:
literally, “hopping vampire”; an animated corpse from Chinese myth that feeds on the life force of the living, and the closest thing culturally to a walker in China
jiĕ:
big sister (abbreviated)
Lān! Ná! Zhà!:
Left block! Right block! Thrust!—fundamental spear technique
mā:
mother
năinai:
grandmother
pŭdāo:
long-bladed weapon with a lengthy handle, sometimes called a horse-killer
shīfù:
master
shūshu:
uncle, mister (unrelated)
wŭxiá:
Chinese martial arts genre
xiàngqí:
also called Chinese chess; a strategy board game for two players.
xiànshēn:
mister
xiăodì:
little brother
xiăomèi:
little sister
yángguĭzi:
foreign devil
yéye:
grandfather
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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First Skybound Books/Gallery Books hardcover edition October 2019
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Interior design by Davina Mock-Maniscalco
Jacket design by Andres Juarez
Jacket illustration © Jasper Shaw
Author photograph by Cathryn Farnsworth
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
ISBN 978-1-9821-1780-1
ISBN 978-1-9821-1782-5 (ebook)
