AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There’s no way to change what has already happened. My future is already set.”
Sensing that Tang’s resolve was weakening, David forged ahead. “Tell me about—”
“Noooo!” Tang spun around on one leg. David had just enough time to recognize that he was about to be attacked and raised his arms in front of him against the blow, but it didn’t come to his face, chest, or abdomen. Tang’s leather shoe smashed into David’s head above his left ear. David went flying. He landed on his side, and Tang kicked him in the stomach. He curled into a fetal position, but it was no protection against what came next. The blow to his ribs sent pain hurtling throughout his body. Another kick in nearly the same spot proved excruciating. David fought hard against the darkness that threatened to blanket his brain.
Tang hunched over him. The smell of his cologne curdled David’s stomach. “You cannot change what will happen. Nothing can change t
he great river.”
Then Tang pulled himself back up to his full height. When he took a step back, David knew what was coming. The blow to his head sent him spiraling into unconsciousness. He had a vague sensation of being dragged, of falling, of being enveloped by cold and wet, and then sinking, sinking, sinking….
“Hang in there, David!”
The feeling of being pulled through liquid…. More pain as someone reached under his arms and yanked….
“Breathe! Breathe goddamnit!”
Floating through a dense miasma….
“Wake up, David!”
Rising….
“Breathe!”
Choking….
“I’m going for help. Stay still.”
Then slipping again into the comforting blackness.
David felt raindrops stinging his face. He opened his eyes, rolled on his side, and threw up filthy seawater. He hurt all over.
The typhoon had arrived. Waves crashed nearby, wind screeched over him, and the pier groaned against the storm’s irrefutable energy.
He pushed himself to a sitting position and tried not to pass out again. He swallowed hard several times. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Hulan’s cell phone. He opened it, and water poured out. He tossed it into the harbor, and an impression of sinking came to him. The harbor…. Tang had dumped David in the water just as Brian’s body had been tossed away like a piece of trash. The knowledge of what he must have ingested from the bay sent David’s guts into more spasms. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and saw his watch. His vision was blurry, and he blinked again and again, trying to get his eyes to focus. It was three in the morning. In his fogginess he tried to calculate how long he’d been out here. Six hours. Six lost hours. But he was alive. Ma had pulled him out of the harbor…. Didn’t he say he was coming back? David thought he remembered that…. maybe.
He had to get moving. He had to call Hulan. He cupped a hand over his ribs, but that gave little protection from the agony that speared through him as he stood up. He staggered up the stairs, every step an immense effort. He crossed the deserted street to the Mandarin Oriental. There were no taxis queued up under the porte cochere and no doormen to welcome guests. The lobby was empty except for one person, who sat behind the reception desk reading a magazine and didn’t look up. The mezzanine bar was closed.
Once David reached his room, he locked the door and called the Panda Guesthouse. He got the same electronic whine he’d gotten after the auction. He called the operator and was patched through to a Mainland operator, who told him that Sichuan, Hubei, and Anhui provinces were reporting downed telephone lines within the Yangzi’s flood zone. If he hadn’t gotten through already, he probably wouldn’t until all service was restored after the waters receded.
He had things he needed to do. If anything Ma had said earlier was true, then calling the police was the absolute wrong thing to do. David did call the U.S. Consulate, however, and left a message that the legate should call him as soon as possible. He also called the Ministry of Public Security and left a message with Vice Minister Zai. But after what Ma had said at the auction about Hulan possibly working for an independent group within the government, David wasn’t so sure he could trust her old family friend in the present circumstances. He thought fleetingly of Dr. Ma. He had lied about his identity and, from David’s perspective, was working for the wrong side, but he’d also saved David’s life. Didn’t he now owe Ma the benefit of the doubt? The least he could do was wait here until the spy showed up at his door.
David was still sopping wet, and he smelled of blood and harbor scum. He stripped off his clothes, cramming the entire slimy mess into the hamper. He looked in the mirror and hardly recognized the person who stared back. His face was haggard, his skin a ghoulish green. A dark bruise was coming up on his jaw where the skin had been shredded by Tang’s shoe. His forehead and hair were matted with blood and bits of asphalt and dirt. A huge bump had developed on the side of his head, and he had a gash above his left eyebrow. He dabbed at the cut gingerly with a wet washcloth. He needed stitches. But none of this was as bad as his torso. His entire left side was bruised an angry purple. He carefully probed his ribs and figured a couple of them had to be cracked or broken.
The shower hurt like hell, but he felt better once he got out. It was four in the morning. His whole body hurt, and his brain felt like mush. He needed Band-Aids and painkillers to tide him over until Ma got here. He sat on the bed and called down to the front desk to ask for the house doctor to pay a visit, but because of the weather, the doctor, along with most of the hotel’s staff, had been told to go home long ago. David checked his Dopp kit and found some Tylenol. He fished around in his suitcase, searching the various pockets, hoping he’d find some leftover bandages from another trip. Nothing. He pulled out his satchel and looked in the center compartment. Again, nothing. Then he unzipped the side pocket and found the papers and notebooks that he’d picked up in Lily’s room for Hulan during their meeting with Pathologist Fong. In the chaos of the last two days he’d forgotten he had them. He pulled them out, laid them on the bed, and scrounged around at the bottom of the bag until he came up with two Little Mermaid Band-Aids. They’d been Chaowen’s favorites. He went back to the bathroom and taped them over his cut, trying to use them like butterfly bandages by squeezing the pieces of sliced flesh together. Again he stared at himself in the mirror and this time bit back an overwhelming desire to cry.
He returned to the bedroom and picked up Lily’s journal. He opened to what seemed like the center and read a quotation that was accompanied by a pen-and-ink drawing of cliffs and water.
“Destructive in their overflow are the waters of inundation. In their vast extent they embrace mountains and overtop hills, threatening the heavens with their floods, so that the inferior people groan and moan.”
—Yau (2357–2258 B.C.), as recorded in the Shu Ching: Book of History, James Legge translation
David had no idea who Yau was, but he remembered Catherine Miller’s mentioning the Shu Ching during that first lunch. He flipped through the pages, stopping to glance at entries about the Yangzi River that Lily had culled from local myths as well as other sources. She had liked to take mundane facts and turn them into compelling sagas. The journal showed just how dedicated she was to this pursuit.
David skipped ahead and stopped at a very different entry.
Just got back from an All-Patriotic Society meeting. It’s amazing to me how Xiao Da changes his identity so thoroughly from day to night. I believe what he says about spiritual matters, but it is his views on the river that have made me a convert. We must save what is here at all costs. Although I am a foreigner, Xiao Da says I should become a lieutenant. My Chinese is good enough, and with the travel I do for Lily, my movements along the river would not be questioned. But he also says I could be the first American to speak on his behalf when I go back to the States.
