31
It’s not hard to imagine what’s waiting outside. Helicopters, sirens blaring and policemen behind their vehicle’s open doors pointing their guns at the entrance of this abandoned little musical instruments shop. “You said we would have a couple of hours!” I whisper at Simon.
“Is there a back door?” I ask. He shrugs in despair. One, two, three breaths. We must do something. He holds my hand. The scared little boy again. From a little gap in the curtain, we take a peek. We freeze.
A single black pickup truck awaits, a few meters from our storefront. The tinted windows reflect the sky and we can’t tell who’s inside. They blink their headlights a few times, then a loud, long honk. A faceoff.
Connect the damn brains, Simon! Connect!
There’s not much of a choice. I step outside first and, in response, the driver’s door pops. From inside comes a big man in a tactical suit and dark shades. Big, much bigger than the last ones from the park, with shoulders so massive they can touch the dude’s deformed ears. It takes a second, but I recognize him. “Buffalo?”
I get no reaction from him. Zero. Líng. Behind me, Simon seems equally perplexed. As if I didn’t exist, Buffalo walks to the back and slides the door open just to release another man in the same uniform, same shades, just thinner…The Crusher?!
This isn’t right.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask.
“Fire…with fire…” Simon mumbles behind me.
The Crusher marches all the way to the back of the truck and drags a lifeless body. I recognize the clothes. Mrs. Lee? What did you guys do?
Think, Yinyin.
She moves her head. God, she’s alive! Her eyes seem groggy, her mouth is taped. Her hand rubs the top of her head. She’s hurt. You guys are so fucked right now. Then she looks at me. Her face changes. Terror. “Everything will be fine Mrs. Lee.”
The Crusher cocks his pistol. Points at her head.
The hum. It resumes. Thanks, Simon. No time to talk. Just follow me. I charge. The Crusher grins. Like he did when we fought in the cage. He aims at me now. You wouldn’t dare. He does. The psycho pulls the fucking trigger.
I see it all. His finger bending, the spark inside the barrel, the bullet flying toward me. “Flinching is surrendering to the ego,” I hear in my head. There’s no choice anymore. The metal drop is on its way, deadly, cold, straight. I feel it touch my skin, push against my chest. That’s it.
The Dao is the nothing. In me, infinity it will be.
I’m behind The Crusher now. A Shadow Leap? I kick him in the back of the knee. He falls. My shoulder, it hurts. I check it with one hand. Clean. My elbow drops on the back of his neck. Then a moan, suffered and short.
Simon is on the ground, twisting in pain.
A pool of blood grows around him. The bullet I avoided, now in his flesh. The chest, the shoulder, somewhere in that zone. Simon? Can you hear me? Hold on, Ok? We’ll take care of you. Don’t fucking die on me, do you hear me?
Heart…aches, he says. Can’t stay...
Another leap—beyond Buffalo’s sight—and flank him with all the violence I can summon. Why did you do that to me, Little Cow? He stumbles, and I free Mrs. Lee. Run, Yinyin, I tell myself while I carry her away, to where Simon is. Behind us, an engine fires, tires spin, rubber burns and it fades in the distance. The hum gets weaker too. “Simon?” And weaker. “Simon!”
Until it finally stops.
Kneeling next to him, I beg for Mrs. Lee’s help. “Hold on, Simon!” He tries to talk, but his strength fades with the amber in his eyes. A void sucks my chest inward. I hold his hand; my ear near his mouth now and my eyes, closed. I can feel them, the bots in my brain, stretching their tentacles deeper, grasping for the synapses I am trying to broadcast; their receptors wide open, searching for a signal from his. Maybe I am just imagining, I don’t know. Either way, silence.
“Say something, Simon.”
A faint, crackling sound and a hint of his brown eyes turning to mine.