City of Ghosts

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City of Ghosts Page 11

by J. H. Moncrieff


  His face brightened. “You learned my Chinese name. How? Not so many tourists remember.”

  “That girl I’ve been telling you about, the one from Hensu. She told me.”

  Shaking his head, he turned his back to me, fussing with the money belt he hid under his shirt. “I told you. I don’t know her.”

  “If you don’t know her, how does she know your name?”

  “A lot of people know Wu Hongqi. I am important person, working for big Western company. I have shown China to many, many people from around the world.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think she’s a fan.”

  He shrugged, his face irritatingly blank. “Can’t be upset about this. Not everyone will like every person.”

  “Can’t you tell me what happened? I swear I’m not trying to piss you off, Harold, but she keeps insisting I ask you about this. She won’t leave either of us alone unless you tell me about it.”

  “She’s not bothering me.”

  “Maybe not, but she wants me to bother you.” I took another deep breath. He didn’t appear to be angry for a change. “Please, tell me what happened in Hensu. I don’t need to write about it—I don’t even want to anymore. But if she feels someone knows her story, she might leave me alone.”

  “Why do you keep asking about Hensu?” Harold scowled at me. “There is nothing there. No one lives there but a bunch of old statues. It is history, nothing more.”

  “Did you live there? Before the flood?”

  He exhaled loudly through his nose. “I told you. I come from Xi’an. You remember my hometown, where I go and see my wife?”

  I remembered, of course—Xi’an was home to the Terracotta Army—but what Harold was saying didn’t make sense. I didn’t think the girl was mistaken—she was too persistent for that, and she’d known his real name. “I don’t understand why she swears you know her story. Do you have any connection to Hensu?”

  “What are you trying to do, Jackson?”

  “I’m trying to figure out what happened to her so I can get her to back off. That’s all. Whatever you tell me will stay confidential, I promise.”

  “I warned you about this. I told you what would happen if you kept being a nuisance. I told you about my government friend.”

  “She says you’re bluffing. She says you’d never go to the government.”

  His face remained impassive. “You choose to believe her over me? That is not smart.”

  “Besides, the government wouldn’t do anything to me because I’m not really a journalist. I just said that so you would tell me about Hensu.”

  Harold grinned, displaying two rows of sharp teeth. “You think it matters? You think the government cares? Do you have any idea how many tourists go missing in China? There are always more Westerners eager to spend money here. No one will care if one disappears.”

  I thought of my mother, how nervous she’d been about this trip. I’d chided her for being overprotective, bombarding her with facts and statistics about how safe it was, how well regarded Valiant Tours was. I pictured my parents and Roxi coming here, red-eyed and devastated, to search for me. It would destroy them. I couldn’t let anything happen to me.

  At the end of the day, though, Harold was a bully—a pathetic weasel on a power trip. And I refused to give that bastard the satisfaction of knowing he had me on edge.

  “If you have nothing to hide, why the threats? What are you so afraid of?”

  “Do you want to go home when the tour is finished, Jackson? Do you want to see your family again? What about Roxi? Do you want to see her?”

  Just hearing him say her name was enough to get the adrenaline going. I hadn’t listed her as a contact on my Valiant application, I was sure of it. “Leave Roxi out of this.”

  “She seems very sweet, your little sister. Very innocent. Too bad she has such a pain in the ass for a brother.”

  “Say her name again and I’ll smash your face.”

  Harold laughed, and I regretted giving him the upper hand. Now he’d know exactly how to get to me. Grabbing the room key, he smiled. “You want to get home, stop asking these questions. Otherwise, you know what will happen. Have a nice day, Jackson.”

  He left the room, closing the door behind him.

  I threw the jian bing in the garbage, where its tantalizing aroma taunted me.

  * * *

  Kate, Matt, Erik, and Todd were waiting in the lobby when I made my way downstairs.

  “Hey man, how are you feeling?” Erik asked.

  “I’m okay. Where are we going?”

  “We want to hit McDonald’s and then check out the markets.” Matt peered at me. “Are you sure you’re up for it? You’re not looking so good.”

  “As much as I’ll ever be,” I said, concentrating on keeping my voice steady. I’d texted my sister as soon as Harold left, and she was fine. Excited to hear from me, and a bit weirded out when I asked if anyone from China had contacted her, but otherwise fine. She seized the opportunity to remind me to buy her presents—lots of presents. Why not? The markets were as good a place as any to kill some time. Anything was better than being in that room.

  Kate fell in step beside me as we left the hotel. The day was bright, and the warmth of the sun comforted me. “Are you really okay?” she asked once the others had moved ahead. “Matt’s right—you aren’t looking so hot.”

  “So I’ve heard. I’m fine.” I forced a smile.

  “Did she—visit you again?”

  “Yeah.” How do I tell her my suspicions? I wasn’t even sure that I should.

  “I don’t know why she won’t leave you alone. You’ve told her you can’t help her, right?”

  “She doesn’t appear to take no for an answer.”

  The rest of the group was waiting to cross the street. We stopped talking long enough to catch up.

  “You ready for a good old-fashioned American breakfast?” Todd asked me.

  “Always.” I never went to Mickey D’s at home, but I’d learned to make concessions overseas. The fast-food chain may not have been high cuisine, but it was reliable, familiar, and it could be counted on to have a clean bathroom, which was always a bonus. Besides, I was tired of Chinese food, something I couldn’t have imagined two days ago. Throwing up a bunch of it probably hadn’t helped.

  I longed to tell Kate about Harold’s threats. I needed to tell someone. But there wasn’t a good opportunity. After we crossed the street, it was another short block to McDonald’s, and Erik walked beside us, chattering away. But that wasn’t the only thing that kept me from talking.

  Someone was watching me. I was sure it was Harold, but no matter how many times I glanced over my shoulder, I didn’t see him. The sidewalks were crowded with people—young women tottering past in high heels, young men jabbing at each other and laughing, and the elderly, who strolled down the street with an enviable elegance, their spines ramrod straight. Still, Harold was tall for Yangshuo—he’d told us people were taller in his village. Even in a crowd of Chinese, he usually stood out. It would be difficult for him to follow us unnoticed.

  Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.

  * * *

  A McDonald’s in China looks like…well, like a McDonald’s at home. There’s not even anything weird on the menu, which disappointed us at first.

  An unsmiling woman saw the color of my skin and pushed a laminated picture menu across the counter without speaking. Feeling like a child, I touched the photos of a Big Mac and fries, and then a can of Coke. There wasn’t much sense in asking for other soft drinks in China if you weren’t fluent in Mandarin. The Sprite devotees in our group had found that out pretty fast.

  No matter what drink you received at McDonald’s, it came with ice. I wasn’t that hungry, but I would have killed for ice. For some reason it was a rare commodity in China, along with cold drinks. I’d almost gotten used to drinking warm beer.

  Another similarity between McDonald’s restaurants in China and America
? Both are always packed. It was impossible to find a table that would seat everyone, so we had to split up. I took the opportunity to let Kate know I had to talk to her. She understood my not-so-subtle sign language and led the way to a crowded corner, where we’d be sitting among the locals.

  Once we had our food, my stomach changed its mind about not being hungry. It howled loud enough to be heard over the strange Asian version of Muzak (actually, come to think of it, any version of Muzak is pretty strange), which would have been embarrassing if Kate hadn’t already watched me snore and slobber on my pillow. The girl had smelled my vomit—I figured we were past social niceties.

  “Hungry?” She laughed.

  “Are you kidding? I haven’t had anything to eat since the night before last.”

  “How come? Didn’t Erik bring you anything from dinner?”

  “Erik’s not my roommate anymore. Harold is.”

  “What?” Kate was genuinely shocked. I was surprised myself—surprised that Erik hadn’t told everyone in the group yet.

  “Yeah, nothing like sleeping in a room with a guy who wants to kill you. Fun times.”

  “Harold doesn’t want to kill you. You make his job harder sometimes, that’s all.”

  “You think so?” I proceeded to fill her in on Harold’s latest round of threats while she ate her chicken nuggets, eschewing any dipping sauce to smear them in ketchup.

  When I’d gotten to the part about how many Western tourists had disappeared, Kate sucked in her breath. Unfortunately, she must have also sucked in a piece of chicken, because it triggered a coughing fit of epic proportions. The Chinese man who was sitting beside us with his daughter (please, God, let it have been his daughter) seemed genuinely concerned, but of course we couldn’t understand him any more than he could understand us.

  It was so bad that Todd, who was a paramedic in training, rushed over from the other side of the room. He was about to perform the Heimlich maneuver when Kate waved him away. I handed her a glass of water and she drank it gratefully, her face as red as her hair and tears running down her cheeks. “Thanks,” she said. It took a while for her to convince me she was okay.

  She pushed the cardboard container with the rest of her nuggets across the table. “You want?”

  I didn’t need to be asked twice. I’d eaten my Big Mac in two bites (Big my ass) and wolfed down my fries almost as fast. I was still starving. And, as if I needed any incentive, I’d noticed my ribs were extra prominent. With all the stair climbing and mountain hiking we’d been doing, I’d probably lost ten or fifteen pounds in China, and that was before I got sick. It wasn’t a good look.

  Tearing open Kate’s untouched packet of Chinese-mustard dipping sauce, which tasted exactly like the honey-mustard we got at home, I was going to tell her about the worst part of Harold’s threats—the stuff about Roxi—when I saw her. I grabbed Kate’s arm and squeezed.

  “What is it?” she asked, still able to sound concerned about me after her own near-death experience.

  “That’s her,” I hissed through my teeth, knowing it was useless to hide.

  The girl, as always, was staring at me. I had a feeling she could hear every word that I’d said, even from across the room.

  “Where?” Kate scanned the restaurant, rising halfway off her chair, as if she were preparing for a quick exit.

  “Sitting at that table over there.” I indicated the direction with a tilt of my chin. “She’s in a blue rain jacket.”

  Not only was she in a rain jacket, her hair was damp. No, damp wasn’t the word—it was soaked, plastered to her skull as if she’d just escaped a downpour. When we’d walked to the restaurant, the skies had been clear and sunny. Had the weather changed that quickly? I glanced at the huge windows. The sun poured into the restaurant, illuminating thousands of dust motes that danced on the air currents. Maybe she’d broken into someone else’s room and had a shower.

  How I wished the explanation was that prosaic, but deep down I knew it wouldn’t be.

  Kate slowly lowered herself back onto her stool, never taking her eyes from the girl. She was acting like a small animal that realized it was being stalked by a predator. “That’s her?” It was a rhetorical question; I could tell by her reaction she knew exactly who my stalker was.

  Her cheeks, which had been flushed from her coughing episode only minutes before, were now a pale and sickly white. She lowered her eyes to her red plastic tray, as if wishing the chicken nuggets were still there. I felt a twinge of guilt for eating them so fast.

  “Do you want some more? I’ll get them for you. My treat.” I’d gotten used to seeing the girl everywhere I went, so it didn’t bother me as much, even with my new suspicions. I guess I kind of expected it. Besides, I’d much rather see her in McDonald’s on a sunny day than lurking in my bathroom at night.

  “No thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  “What is it, Kate? What’s wrong?”

  The girl’s focus had shifted. She was staring at Kate now, with her lips curved in a smile that could only be described as malevolent. It gave me the creeps, and I felt a sudden need to leave the restaurant. I was about to get the others when Kate spoke.

  “Will you walk me to the hotel?”

  “The hotel? What about the market?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t care about that. Will you come with me, please? I really need to talk to you. Please tell the others I’m not feeling well.”

  “Okay. Give me a sec.”

  The guys were concerned when they heard Kate needed an escort to the hotel. Then Todd grinned. “You know she has a boyfriend at home, right stud?”

  “Grow up,” I said, pissed even though that was something I would have said a month ago. I wondered when it was that I’d lost my sense of humor, and then I remembered the girl had accused me of the same thing last night.

  I returned to our table to find Kate wasn’t there. My heart pounding in my chest, I looked for the girl from Hensu, but her table was empty as well.

  “Jackson.”

  Kate waved at me from the door. I’d never been so relieved to see someone, and I wasted no time weaving between the tables to get to her side. Some color had returned to her cheeks.

  As soon as we left the restaurant, she lifted her face to the sun and breathed deeply. Several locals were directly in her path, but they swerved around her with remarkable dexterity. I guess when you live in a country with over a billion people, you get really good at sidestepping.

  Kate’s anxiety had rubbed off on me, and I was feeling extremely edgy—I kept glancing over my shoulder. People smiled at us and took our picture, sometimes asking me to pose with them or if they could feel my head. They didn’t get a lot of blacks in this part of the country, so I imagine I was a novelty.

  But I didn’t see anyone in a raincoat and a blue dress. Still, there was no doubt in my mind she was somewhere nearby. “Are you okay? We should go.”

  Kate snapped out of whatever trance she’d been in and made her way down the crowded sidewalk at a brisk pace, holding tight to my hand. I was so freaked out by her reaction to the girl that I didn’t even notice how soft and smooth her skin was. (Well, maybe I noticed a little.)

  She quickened her step until we were almost running, which amused the hell out of the locals. We’d been offered so many rides it was clear Westerners had a reputation for being fat, lazy slobs. I’d have been insulted if I wasn’t so out of breath.

  Kate didn’t stop until we were safely inside the lobby. Not to answer my questions, not even when I stubbed my toe on an uneven part of the sidewalk and said a word that would have made my mother disown me. Except for a man at the front desk, the lobby was deserted. I’d almost expected to see her sitting there, waiting for us. And from the way Kate flinched every time the clerk blew his nose, I could tell she was equally nervous.

  “Do you want to go to my room and talk?” I inwardly winced when I realized how cheesy that sounded. How many guys had used that line on her?

 
Thankfully, she seemed to take it at face value. “No—Harold,” she reminded me. I doubted Harold was spending the day sitting in our room, but that would give him hours to spend on his phone without being disturbed. I suppose it was possible.

  “How about your room?”

  She shook her head. “Meghan.” My heart sank at the sound of her name. With the drama over my change of roommate, I’d forgotten that it was Kate’s turn with Meghan. The women vastly outnumbered the guys on this trip, so Harold had them on a roommate-swapping schedule. Since there were so few men, he’d left us alone…until last night, of course.

  I wanted to ask her how it was going, but we had more important things to discuss. Venting about Meghan would have to wait. “How about right here?”

  Kate considered the line of empty chairs that were pushed against the wall, and shook her head again. Part of me was glad. Even though we were practically alone, I’d have felt exposed trying to have a private conversation there. “I hear ya. But if not in the lobby and not in our rooms, where?”

  She gestured for me to follow her, ignoring the painfully slow elevator in favor of the stairs. I was intrigued. This particular hotel didn’t have a restaurant or a lounge, so I had no idea where she could be taking me. One of the other rooms, maybe? She’d gotten tight with a few of the women.

  By the time we reached the top floor, I was done. The flu had made me weak, and it was tempting to crawl up the last flight of stairs. Thankfully, the hotel only had six floors.

  “The Penthouse suite, huh?”

  Kate waited for me on the landing. Once I joined her, I was a little shocked by our surroundings. It was where furniture came to die. Ugly chairs, stained mattresses, and broken tables were stacked everywhere. A cleaning woman pushed past us on her way down the stairs, frowning and muttering to herself.

  “How did you know about this place?” I hoped to keep Kate talking for a minute so I could catch my breath. I was wheezing like I was about to have an asthma attack, which would be understandable, if I had asthma.

  “I always check out the top floor when I’m staying in a hotel. Don’t you?”

 

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