The Blade of Silence (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 3)

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The Blade of Silence (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 3) Page 20

by Mi Lei


  Ding Shucheng's face had been sliced wide open. The wound was deep, revealing bone and teeth beneath the cut cheek and lip. The distending gases of the putrefaction process had caused the corpse to swell and stretched its clothing. Fang Mu spotted three bullet holes in the strained fabric and that was just at a first glance. Any one of his injuries should have been enough to stop even the toughest man in his tracks, but not Ding Shucheng. He had remained standing, his back against a metal frame, a pistol firm in his hand, eyes forward.

  He had died fighting.

  Looking in the direction Ding Shucheng must have been aiming his gun, Fang Mu could see only empty space. But in light of the chaos and pools of blood in the corridor, he was certain that Ding Shucheng's enemies had paid a heavy price for his death.

  Fang Mu heaved a sigh and placed his hands on the dead man's gun. He gave it two good pulls, but even in death, Ding Shucheng refused to release it. With another, sadder sigh, Fang Mu tried again, this time with more force. The entire body moved, causing an eerie rustling to stir beneath his feet. Looking down, Fang Mu saw empty packs of instant noodles scattered around Ding Shucheng's shoes. Some of the seasoning packets had been torn open and the meat sauce licked out of them. Fang Mu was dumbfounded, unable to fathom...

  Suddenly, something changed in the murky shadows of the room: A pile of tattered batting moved.

  Fang Mu instantly spun and aimed the beam of his flashlight straight at the pile. Whatever had been squirming within froze, but soon moved again. A few seconds later, a face emerged.

  Fang Mu could barely contain his shock and the crowbar almost tumbled from his hand. What he saw was no enemy. In fact, the tiny person in the pile seemed completely unconcerned with Fang Mu's existence. Slowly, she emerged from the batting and hobbled over to the feet of Ding Shucheng's corpse. There she squatted down and began rummaging through the bags.

  It was a child, a little girl, maybe 3'5", her hair a grimy mess. Fang Mu still had no idea what to do other than stare.

  The girl took a half-full, filthy bottle of water from the pile. She unscrewed the cap and raised the bottle to her lips. Fang Mu wanted to stop her, but before he could move, the girl had taken a tiny sip. Then she put the bottle back down. The look on her face was not one of disgust; far from it, she fawned over the remaining putrid water as if she were preserving the most-valuable treasure in the world.

  The girl was back to the garbage and fully engrossed in her search for sustenance. In the end, she chose an empty pack of instant noodles. Using the tip of her tongue, she licked at the sad, broken pieces that remained inside.

  Fang Mu squatted down. Slowly and gently, he asked her, "Who are you?"

  The girl did not react in the least. She was completely focused on chewing her tiny morsels. Fang Mu tried a few more times, but the girl didn't respond.

  Fang Mu frowned and reached out in an attempt to get a hold of her. The moment his fingertips brushed her arm, the girl bolted away as if she had been poked with a red-hot iron. Instantly, she scrambled behind Ding Shucheng's corpse, clawing herself to his clothes. Her body convulsed with fear as she stared at Fang Mu, her huge eyes wide-open.

  Fang Mu quickly withdrew. In a low voice he attempted to explain. "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid. I don't want to hurt you. What's your name?"

  The girl did not speak. She did, however, do her best to disappear behind Ding Shucheng's body.

  Clearly, she had adopted it as her guardian angel.

  In a flash, Fang Mu understood what had happened there...

  Ding Shucheng stands in the bathhouse hall, carefully watching the men that now surround him. Their faces are blurred, but there is nothing uncertain about their desire to kill. Next to one of the pits, the girl is being dragged away by another man. She is fighting, beating him with both hands, but he doesn't even seem to notice.

  Ding Shucheng wants to turn to her, to help, but he cannot, not while he is surrounded by enemies. His hand slowly drops to his waist. One of the men makes a move. Ding Shucheng floors him with a swift kick. He runs for the girl. The man has let her go to reach for his gun. Ding Shucheng fires. The man falls. A blink of the eye, and the bullets are flying. The girl screams in panic. Ding Shucheng grabs her, but there is no way out—no way, except up.

  He runs up the stairs, through the hall and the corridor. He fights and he falls back. The walls around him explode in an unrelenting hail of bullets. The girl runs along, stumbling, crying, screaming. Ding Shucheng is always there, shielding her with his body even as he returns fire. Someone screams and collapses. Suddenly, a door flies open and they burst forth. Ding Shucheng aims and pulls the trigger. The hammer falls, metal on metal, but no fire. He is out of bullets. Glinting with cold light, the blade comes down. He howls in pain as the steel cuts his face. He snatches an iron bar from the ground and swings. It hits a skull. The impact is hard, then soft. Another one of them falls, blood spattering in all directions.

  Ding Shucheng bursts through the ranks of his enemies and pulls the girl into a room. He quickly blocks the door with steel frames. Guarding the girl with his body, he reloads. The girl has grabbed his clothes and is trembling violently. Ding Shucheng turns. Forcing a smile, he tells her not to be afraid. It is a smile through a face and mouth cut open. A smile with red teeth, stained with blood. They are at the door. Ding Shucheng fires without hesitation, but he does not hit. The bullet strikes the wall with a dull thud. For a moment there is a lull in the battle. Someone's cell phone is ringing. A voice hastily whispers, describing the situation. Ding Shucheng hears them dragging their bodies away. Now, they are moving something heavy; then, a loud crashing noise from the door below.

  He hears it all, but he is slowly losing his ability to understand it. He feels a chill. The warmth is draining out of him, flowing from the holes in his body.

  All he knows is that the metal frame against his back is the only thing keeping him upright; all he knows is that he has a gun and that, at least for the moment, they are safe. All he knows is that he has to say something, something that will give the girl, give him, the strength to hold on.

  "I'm the police. It's all right. Don't be afraid."

  He mumbles it to himself, repeating it over and over again. But the girl cannot understand a word of his slurred speech; it's just noise to her.

  That noise is getting quieter now, then it ends. Touching him, the girl finds his body cold and stiff. She stands. Everything around her is silent now, lifeless. She looks for a way out, but all the windows are barred and all doors locked. Hunger and thirst overcome her fear, overcome her tears. Desperate, she seeks sustenance.

  She doesn't know that all the food as been taken away, that the water has been cut off. She doesn't know eyes are watching the building day and night. She doesn't know that she is under siege. Nor does she know that when the time comes, they will be back to deal with the corpses.

  Each passing day, she struggles to find food and water, any food and water. She discovers a rusty pipe in the toilet. There is still some water in it. She hides in a pile of batting, in sight of the man. He is always standing there. It doesn't matter that he never moves; it doesn't matter that he has started to stink. What matters is that she feels safe.

  Until a flashlight shines right at her face...

  Taking a deep breath, Fang Mu took another look at Ding Shucheng's battered and broken face. Fighting back the turbulent waves of images and emotions, he forced his voice to a level calm. "Let's go. I'll take you outside. I'm the police."

  The girl seemed to have lost all notion of language. Still, the sound of the words was familiar. Life crept back into her eyes and she slowly poked her horribly dirty face out from behind Ding Shucheng's leg.

  Fang Mu froze.

  Reflected in those big eyes he could see a flame dancing through the air.

  He pivoted on the spot to see a Molotov cocktail impact near the door. The clear, sharp noise of shattering glass was immediately followed by a rush of flame spreading acr
oss the wall and floor.

  He had no time to think. A few hasty strides and he was in the corridor and just in time to see a second Molotov cocktail fly right toward his face. He ducked and the fire bomb exploded a few short feet behind him. Another blaze began to spread.

  Looking in the direction where the cocktail had come, Fang Mu saw a silhouette, hidden behind smoke and flame. "Who are you?" he shouted.

  But there was no answer. The attacker quickly turned and ran down the stairs.

  Fang Mu heard glass shatter below. The noise sounded again and again, and with each broken bottle, the light of new flames shone up the stairs.

  A mounting sense of panic gripped Fang Mu as he dashed back to the room. He quickly snatched his backpack and grabbed the girl by the hand. She had other ideas. She clung to Ding Shucheng's body as she struggled to free herself from Fang Mu's hold.

  Looking at the corpse, at its mutilated face, Fang Mu found himself unable to turn away. He ground his teeth, bent down, and lifted the body over his shoulder.

  Brother, I won't leave you behind.

  The raging fires had begun to spread throughout the corridor. A blast of scorching heat hit Fang Mu's face the moment he stepped through the doorway. It didn't matter and neither did the many doorways lining the corridor and the opportunities for ambush they offered. It was a simple choice between the certainty of slowly burning alive and perhaps being shot through the head.

  Fang Mu made it through the flames and to the top of the stairs. Looking down into the firelight, he could see several wavering silhouettes rushing out of the building.

  In desperation, he shouted, "Freeze!"

  They clearly heard him, but none obeyed. Then, he heard the sound of an iron door closing.

  Fang Mu scrambled down the stairs as fast as he could. Just as his feet hit the floor, he lost his balance under his burden. Sharp pain shot up from his left knee as he hit; the injury would have to wait. First he had to get the girl and Ding Shucheng's body out of there.

  He scrambled to the main entrance and gave the large door a few fierce pulls. It didn't budge an inch. They had been locked in there to die. As the reality of the situation finally sunk in, Fang Mu felt his mind begin to spin. He grabbed Ding Shucheng's hand and again attempted to wrest the pistol from the corpse. No matter how hard he pulled, the gun remained locked in its death grip. Fang Mu had little option other than to lift the entire arm and aim it at the lock of the door. He forced the corpse's finger to pull the trigger twice. Two shots rang out and with two loud clangs the bullets came ricocheting right back at him, barely missing them. The door remained almost entirely unaffected. Seeing the result, Fang Mu took out his cell phone, only to find there was no signal; he couldn't even place an emergency call.

  "Damn." The loud curse errupted from Fang Mu as he squatted down. Anxiously, he peered through the smoke that closed in from all directions. The moment he saw which way the unfinished kitchen was, he staggered toward it, knowing it was the one and only way out. Through it all, the little girl never once let go of Ding Shucheng.

  Coughing and wheezing, Fang Mu stumbled on as fast has his straining legs would carry him. He prayed his attackers hadn't noticed he'd forced open the back door.

  All around them the smoke grew thicker. His throat seemed to contract, making each breath harder than the last. Ding Shucheng's body seemed to weigh a ton, not to mention the putrid fluid trickling down Fang Mu's neck. The heat dried it, caking corpse excretion to his back like scabs. Everything in front of him was becoming a blur as the dense smoke made it impossible to keep his eyes open. Groping along the wall he found the wooden door. He almost screamed in jubilation when his fingers finally reached the now red-hot metal of the knob. With a desperate pull, it opened.

  The smoke had not fully enveloped the kitchen. He lurched across the room and toward the door on the other side. With a last effort, Fang Mu gave it a mighty yank. Instantly, his heart turned to ice.

  They had locked it.

  His legs surrendered and he hit the ground.

  This was the end.

  Ding Shucheng's corpse lay beside him, its right arm resting on its chest, its head strangely tilted. All in all, it looked very uncomfortable. But it, of course, felt nothing. Fang Mu wasn't sure who that left with the short end of the stick.

  The smoke continued to billow through the open door into the kitchen. Slowly, the dead body disappeared in the wavering black. Fang Mu felt his heart steady. A sense of serenity enveloped his mind.

  This was it, and I can say that I did my best.

  I'm sorry, Old Xing.

  I'm sorry, Xing Na.

  I'm sorry, Ding Shucheng…

  Suddenly, Fang Mu saw two bright, round orbs through the smoke. The girl's eyes drew his fading mind back to reality.

  She was looking at him, not moving a muscle. Her gaze was full of trust and hope. Full of encouragement.

  This was how you looked at Ding Shucheng in that dark night.

  Fang Mu found hidden strength in his legs. Little, by little, he rose. Then, finally, he stood.

  But he is dead, and I am still alive!

  The windows were his last hope. Fang Mu forced his muddled mind to think. If he could break a window, it would let in some fresh air. Perhaps they could survive that way, buying enough time for rescuers to reach them. But he would have to fight through the billowing smoke, from the kitchen to a window in the pool room; it seemed dauntingly impossible.

  One more time, Fang Mu slung Ding Shucheng's body over his shoulder and with it the little girl, still clinging on. The movement cost him almost all his newfound strength.

  He stayed to the wall as he stumbled blindly toward the doorway, eyes filled with smoke and stinging. His plan was to feel his way along the room's edges. That way he was bound to find a window. And it wasn't like he had any other option; the thick smoke would never allow him to keep his eyes open. He was completely in the dark now. When he reached the doorway, he remembered the four steps a moment too late and fell.

  He didn't hit the ground lightly. Sprawling onto the hard concrete floor, all his remaining strength spilled from his body. He simply could not get back up. Critical seconds that felt like hours ticked by.

  Finally, he managed to sit up, but now he had lost all sense of direction. Front, back, left, right—they were all equally shrouded in smoke, equally filled with the pulsating light of the blaze. His mind muddled by oxygen-deprivation, he began to senselessly grope in all directions.

  But no matter where he turned, there was no wall. The only thing that still felt solid was the floor beneath his feet.

  Never in his life had Fang Mu been so horribly afraid.

  Never had he felt so absolutely powerless.

  And never had he been so truly trapped.

  Suddenly, he heard the sound of breaking metal and shattering glass from the ahead.

  Seconds from defeated surrender, Fang Mu saw the smoke being drawn into the direction of the noise. It looked as if a giant vacuum was sucking the billowing blackness away, venting. He almost immediately regained some of his vision and with it a spark of courage and exhilaration ignited within him.

  One of the windows had been broken open.

  It was the only explanation. But now was not the time to think. He grabbed the corpse and ran toward the light, the little girl in tow.

  The bars across the windows were truly deformed, but were not broken, a testament to their careful construction. Fang Mu spotted an iron hook attached to the top of the bars and a rope trailing from that hook into the darkness. Looking out, he just caught sight of a car's taillights, speeding away.

  It was the window he had first attempted to enter. The driver of that car had used the hole he had cut in the window to bust open the bars. But as to the who and why, Fang Mu was at a complete loss. It hardly mattered. Examining the deformed bars, he could see that they had bent far enough for him to squeeze through. There was no time to waste. With every passing second, the inferno rag
ing right behind them grew and the chance that the men waiting outside noticed the hole increased. If they were spotted, their attackers would certainly come to finish the job the flames had failed to do.

  Fang Mu reached out to the little girl and motioned her to Get out, now!

  The girl furiously shook her head, silent as ever. She desperately continued to cling to Ding Shucheng's clothes. There wasn't time for debate. He reached down and pried the girl's hands off the corpse. Quickly, he picked her up and pushed her straight through the bars. The girl had barely landed outside before she spun around and struggled to get back in.

  Enough was enough. Fang Mu shushed her and then forcefully motioned for her to get down. The fierce look on his face scared her into obedience and she actually did as she was told.

  With a pained wheeze, Fang Mu attempted to pick up Ding Shucheng's body, but the weight of exhaustion made the corpse feel as if it was made of lead. He tried again and again, but he simply could not lift the body through the window. Coughing and panting, Fang Mu decided to try for a different approach. He climbed past the corpse and squeezed himself through the bars. Even though he was free from the burning bathhouse, Fang Mu felt no relief, not before he had gotten Ding Shucheng's body to safety. He turned and began pulling from the outside. To his dismay, he soon discovered that while the opening in the bars was just large enough to fit him, it was far too small for the swollen corpse. He used all his remaining strength, but only managed to get half a shoulder past the bars.

  The faded decorations around the window had caught fire. As Fang Mu continued to haul and heave, he noticed that Ding Shucheng's clothing was beginning to smolder. Driven by a mounting sense of urgency, he continued his efforts, but to no avail.

  Suddenly, Fang Mu felt something whiz past him. Then, a panel exploded above his head.

  They had been discovered.

  The bullet was followed by flashlight beams shooting in his direction. The beams swept across the wall and soon onto his body. Before he could move, Fang Mu found himself brightly illuminated, caught in the crossfire of light beams. Then, it was bullets again, hissing past with a crack and riddling the wall around him. Fang Mu still would not let go. With a frenzied effort, he tore at the Ding Shucheng's shoulder, but all he achieved was to lodge the body ever more tightly in-between the bent bars. He pulled again. This time, he slipped and fell. He immediately reached back up to continue his struggle with the corpse. Instead of the body, his hands found the barrel of Ding Shucheng's pistol.

 

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