City of Ghosts

by J. H. Moncrieff

  “I said she could sit by the fire. That’s it. And I soon regretted that much.”

  “Yuèhai is not stupid. In fact, she’s very clever. She phrased her request in such a way that you didn’t know what you were agreeing to. But when you invited her in, you formed a connection with her, and when you said you would tell her story, you strengthened that bond. Until you fulfill your promise and she feels justice has been done, you will never be rid of her.”

  “I thought only vampires needed to be invited in.” I was only half-joking. If ghosts and spirits were real, what was next? Werewolves? Sea monsters?

  “This isn’t fiction, Jackson. This isn’t a fairy tale. I don’t know what else to say to make you get that this is serious. It’s a lot to take in at once, but try to open your mind, okay?”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.”

  “Vampires don’t exist, but spirits do. Yuèhai does. And no, she didn’t need an invitation to approach you, but like I said, getting one strengthened your bond. It makes it easier for her to find you when she needs you. It was very smart on her part.”

  “What if I refuse to do what she wants? She can’t force me to do something, can she?”

  Kate frowned. “I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I’ve never met anyone as powerful as she is…or as angry. I wouldn’t fuck with her, if I were you.” Her teeth chattered, making soft little clicking sounds. “If you did, I probably wouldn’t be able to help you. Honestly, if I were you, I’d do what she wants.”

  The hairs on my arms stood on end. It felt like something was crawling on me. “Is she here now?”

  “No,” Kate said, lowering her voice so I had to lean closer. “At least, not in any way I can sense. But she knows what we’re saying. Have you noticed how cold it’s gotten?”

  “Yeah.”

  I could feel the weight of someone watching me. Even though I was freezing, sweat trickled down my back. I couldn’t look down the hallway like Kate did. I was too afraid of what I’d see.

  “Well, you got your wish,” she said. “You’re going to get your story. I’m not sure what happened to her, but whatever it was, it’s big.”

  “What about Harold? If I keep asking him questions and digging into this stuff, he’ll have me locked up. He’s made that pretty clear.”

  “Harold is still alive, Jackson. There’s only so much he can do. Honestly, I’d take my chances with him before I’d piss off Yuèhai.”

  ~ Chapter Sixteen ~

  I immediately regretted my decision.

  Why on earth had I signed up for a Chinese cooking class? The most complicated thing I’d mastered in the kitchen so far was mac ’n’ cheese. Thankfully, most of the other guys had signed up too, but I felt more than a little envious when Erik sauntered past us that morning, headed for a walk along the waterfront. Free time was precious on this tour, and I hated parting with some of it.

  “I don’t think I want to do this,” Kate whispered. She looked as tired as I felt.

  “Stay,” I said, trying to hide the fact that I felt the same. “It’s better if we stick with the rest of the group today.”

  So we stayed. Wrong decision.

  Harold introduced us to our chef, a tiny man who told us we could call him Peter. He spoke heavily accented English at a volume slightly above a whisper. As I strained to hear him, he led us to one of Yangshuo’s famous food markets.

  The place was enormous, a warehouse full of every edible you could imagine, and a lot of things you probably wouldn’t want to. There were piles upon piles of glistening tentacles, shrimp that still squirmed, frogs in net bags, and various heavily veined genitalia. The options were overwhelming, which would have impressed me if we hadn’t already seen at least five markets like it in other Chinese cities. The monotony didn’t faze Todd or Larry, though, who whipped out their cameras to take photos of the vegetable towers.

  “Um, guys,” I said, leaning between them. “Those are bell peppers. We do have them at home, you know.”

  “Screw off, Jacks. You don’t have our eye,” Larry said in a mock growl, so I left them to it.

  He’d been joking, but he was right—I didn’t have their eye. Sure, the peppers were bright, pretty colors, thanks to their waxy coating of tasty pesticides, but I couldn’t see a damn thing about them that was interesting. While I enjoyed taking a few snapshots during my travels, I’d never be what anyone would call a serious photographer.

  Our sandals squelched on the wet concrete. I tried not to think about what I was stepping in.

  There were some shrieks of protest up ahead. A few of the women in our group had spotted the rabbits, who were still in their fluffy coats but who wouldn’t be hopping away anytime soon. Jennifer ran for the exit with a hand clamped over her mouth. I glanced at Kate, not sure how sensitive she was about things like that, and noticed she was focused on the other side of the market—where the most disturbing thing she would see was a guy picking his nose while he sorted through the cucumbers.

  After twenty minutes of gazing at vegetables, Peter gestured for us to gather around him. It would be the first time during the tour that I’d actually be able to hear what he was saying.

  “Ahead is the wet market. This will be very disturbing for some of you. If you are sensitive about the treatment of animals, you will be more comfortable waiting for us outside.”

  We knew exactly what he was referring to, thanks to Martin and his trusty Rough Guide. The wet market was an abattoir for many animals, dogs and cats among them. Our group thinned as several people left, but not as many as I’d suspected. As for me, I was undecided. I didn’t really have a desire to see slaughtered cats, but I was also curious. It was part of the Chinese experience, after all.

  I felt a tug on my sleeve. It was Kate. Her face had a greenish cast. “I’m out.”

  “Hang on. I’ll come with you.”

  Unfortunately, when we got outside the market, Meghan was one of the people waiting. She glared at us, but instead of ignoring her, I glared right back.

  “Getting pretty chummy, aren’t you?” she said.

  A few of the other women, who were clustered around Jennifer, looked up in surprise at Meghan’s nasty tone. When Susan saw who the owner of the snide remark was, she sighed.

  “Be nice, Meghan. We still have over a week together. Let’s try to be civil, okay?”

  Meghan didn’t move her eyes from mine. “It’s hard to be civil when I see sin happening right in front of me.” She dragged out the s in sin so she sounded like a snake.

  I rolled my eyes. “What bothers you more? That you think she’s cheating on her boyfriend, or that I’m black?”

  There was a collective gasp from the women, but Meghan lifted her chin slightly, stubborn as ever. I could see her mentally grinding in her heels, not willing to give up without a fight.

  “Your race has nothing to do with it.”

  “Bullshit. It has everything to do with it. You wouldn’t care if Kate was hanging out with Erik or Matt.”

  “Jackson—” Kate’s tone was a warning, but I wouldn’t let her stop me. I’d held back for far too long as it was.

  “I think you should apologize for the awful shit you’ve said to this woman, who’s been nothing but polite to you. You’re lucky she didn’t beat your ass last night.”

  “Jackson.” Kate yanked my sleeve, but I brushed her hand away.

  “Hang on. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, Meghan, but Kate and I are friends, and if you have a problem with that, you can talk to me about it, because she has had enough of your shit.”

  Kate tugged on my arm. “Jackson, please.” She sounded frantic, and I glanced down at her, not sure what she was upset about. Maybe she didn’t want me to fight her battles for her, but c’mon—enough was enough. She’d been too nice to this misanthrope, and because of it, Meghan thought she could tramp all over her. I was sick of it.

  But Kate wasn’t paying attention to Meghan. She was staring at
something behind me, along with the rest of the women. I turned to see two soldiers in the ubiquitous red and khaki uniform of the Chinese military striding toward us, and they didn’t look happy.

  For a moment, I thought they were there to protect Meghan, but then I remembered. Harold. He must have finally made good on his threats.

  I was tempted to run, but where would I have gone? My stuff was at the hotel. If I did lose the soldiers on the street, which was unlikely, all they had to do was go to my room and wait for me. I’m sure Harold would welcome them with open arms.

  “Jackson?” one asked me in clipped English.

  No, you want the other black dude you see here. “Yeah?”

  “Come with us, please. We would like to speak with you.”

  “I’m part of a tour group. I’m an American citizen. I can’t go anywhere without my tour leader.” Even if he’s the asshole who called you in the first place.

  “Someone go get Peter,” Kate said. “Hurry!”

  Susan’s sport sandals squeaked on the pavement as she dashed into the market. The soldiers didn’t spare her a glance.

  “We are aware of your citizenship, Mr. Stone. We need to ask you a few questions.”

  Kate linked her arm with mine. “If you’re taking him somewhere, I’m coming too.”

  The man scowled. “I’m afraid that is not possible.”

  At that moment, Peter scurried over, a breathless Susan only steps behind. He spoke to the men in rapid Mandarin, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. I had no idea what he was saying, but if he was sticking his neck out for me, he had my respect. Most of the Chinese we’d met were terrified of their military.

  I didn’t need to understand the language to guess who was winning this verbal battle. Peter’s voice took on a whining, pleading tone, while the soldier’s responses grew more impatient with each passing minute. His comrade stifled a yawn, seeming almost bored. At last Peter turned to me.

  “I am sorry, Jackson, but it appears you need to go with them.”

  “But why? Did they say what they want?”

  “They say it is a matter of national security, but do not worry. I will contact Harold and let him know where they have taken you. He will meet you there, I am certain.”

  “I want to go with him,” Kate said. “One of us should stay with Jackson.”

  Peter’s voice rose an octave. “You must stay here with us. Harold will join them shortly. Jackson will be all right; you will see.”

  “That’s not cool. What if they do something to him? What if something happens to him and we don’t know where he is?” Kate’s eyes welled with tears.

  “Hey, take it easy.” I patted her back, feigning confidence I didn’t feel. “I’ll be fine.”

  Everyone had finished their tour of the slaughterhouse by now and they gathered around us.

  “What’s going on?” Larry demanded, and for a moment I could picture him as the intimidating prison guard.

  “Please, please, quiet down,” Peter said, flapping his hands at the group, who were mostly staring at us in shock. “You are not helping the situation.”

  “Does anyone have Harold’s cell number?” Susan asked. “Someone needs to call him right away.”

  “No, no. I will call him. It is all right. You will see,” Peter insisted, and any faith I’d had in his assurances slipped away. The poor guy sounded…desperate, like he was trying to convince himself. “He will be all right.”

  “I’ve got it,” Martin said, removing a piece of folded paper from his Rough Guide. “Who has their phone on them?”

  As Praise quickly handed hers over, I felt grateful for Martin’s know-it-all ways. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to travel with someone who was overprepared and a tad anal-retentive. Not that I thought Harold would help me. Calling him might do more harm than good. But unless Martin had the number for the American embassy, it was the best shot I had.

  “I’ll call the American embassy as well,” Martin said crisply, clutching the paper. “Where are they taking him?” He shot Peter a look of impatience. “Well? Can you find out the address, please? Hello, Harold?”

  I’d never make fun of that guy again—not even to myself.

  “Harold wants to talk to you.” Martin shoved Praise’s smartphone at Peter, who seized it as if it were a lifeline. I’m sure this was the last thing he expected to deal with during a routine cooking class.

  The soldiers glanced from Martin and Larry to me and Peter, who was now talking as fast as he could, spewing a torrent of words at Harold. If I hadn’t been so freaked out, the confusion on the soldiers’ faces would have been comical.

  Peter tried to give the more talkative of the soldiers the phone, but the man pushed his arm away. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kate taking pictures and gave her a nudge, slightly shaking my head. The last thing we needed was for her to be thrown into a Chinese prison. We didn’t even know where they planned to take me.

  “We have wasted enough time.” The soldier pushed past Peter and grabbed my upper arm. “Please come with us now.” No one had ever taken hold of me like that before, and my initial impulse was to yank my arm away, but something told me that would be a very bad idea. Still, I didn’t appreciate being treated like a criminal.

  The soldier forced his way through the group, shoving me along with him, while Peter ran beside us, clutching the phone and babbling away at the two unsmiling men. I was gratified to see Larry, Matt, and Todd walking in step with me, Kate behind them.

  “Don’t worry, Jacks,” Larry said, lifting his camera to take a picture. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

  A crowd had formed around the entrance to the market, staring at our bizarre parade with wide eyes. This was nothing new—a group of foreigners always attracted a lot of attention, but this time there was more pointing and gesturing than usual. Oddly enough, no one snapped a single picture.

  We were almost at the street when a diminutive woman broke rank and strode up to the soldiers with a ferocious expression. Before they could react, she tore into them, screaming and shouting and throwing up her hands. The man’s grip on my bicep tightened. What in the hell is she doing? Does she want to get herself killed?

  This wasn’t the first time our group had seen a Chinese woman go ballistic on a so-called authority figure. In spite of the warnings we’d been given to never, ever argue with the police or military, we’d seen Chinese mothers and grandmothers giving them shit all over the place. And the police weren’t the only targets of their ire. We’d also seen women scream at bus drivers and security guards. We might not have been able to figure out the words, but their tone was more than clear.

  Peter retreated, his eyes widening at the woman’s boldness.

  “What is she saying?” Larry asked him.

  “She is saying it is bad for soldiers to arrest a foreigner, that it is bad for the army to make the Americans angry,” our beleaguered cooking instructor replied in a hushed voice.

  “Am I being arrested?” The thought terrified me. This shit had just gotten real.

  “No, no, they only want to ask you some questions. But the lady, she not listening to them.”

  Apparently the soldiers decided they’d had enough, because they shoved her aside, dragging me along with them. Not to be intimidated, the woman spit at their feet and continued to scream what I guessed were obscenities. I appreciated her efforts, but her shrieking was beginning to hurt my head.

  “We’re going to find some way to track you,” Larry said. “Don’t worry. Do you have your phone on you? Make sure it’s turned on.”

  I was touched to see tears in Kate’s eyes. “I’ll be okay,” I told her. “Make sure you get a copy of the recipes for me.”

  The soldiers thrust me into a nondescript van that was so dirty it was difficult to tell the color. The windows had wire mesh like a police car’s. Pushing my face to the glass, I saw my tour mates standing on the street, watching. Larry was already flagging down
one of the many private taxis. I could see Peter tugging on his arms, obviously trying to stop him, but he might as well have been a fly for the effect he was having.

  Then the van pulled away from the curb and I was plunged into every tourist’s worst nightmare. I hoped no one would tell my mother.

  She’d never let me go anywhere again.

  ~ Chapter Seventeen ~

  Things might have gone very differently if not for Larry.

  The soldiers drove for about thirty minutes, grunting an occasional word at each other, but mostly staying silent. I’d asked more questions, but now that they didn’t have an audience, the thin veneer of civility had disappeared. They ignored me.

  Since I had no escape, I decided to relax as much as I could. No sense getting worked up when it wouldn’t make a difference. There was something horribly disconcerting about being trapped in a moving vehicle with people you couldn’t communicate with, but every now and then I’d look out the window, letting the sight of Larry’s taxi reassure me.

  The van stopped at a ramshackle building that appeared to be someone’s house. Harold was waiting out front. When he heard us, he tucked his phone into his pocket. I think that was the only time I’d ever seen him put that thing away voluntarily.

  The door of the van slid open with an ominous rumble, and I did an awkward duck walk to get out of there without smacking my head. Larry’s taxi pulled in behind us. Without so much as acknowledging me, Harold muttered a few words at the soldiers and then hurried over to Larry.

  “Why are you here? You should be at the cooking class with the rest of the group.”

  I was grateful but not surprised when Kate got out of the other side of the taxi. Catching her eye, I winked at her to let her know I was okay.

  The bored soldier leaned against the building, while the one who appeared to be in charge folded his arms across his chest as he watched the latest drama unfold. It was clear they were waiting for Harold to advise them. I guessed they needed him to translate.