and stuffed it into the stairways, blocking off all avenues of approach other than the one the Boy had decided the pursuers must choose. After this, he turned to making barricades where he could shoot with his rifle down the long dark hallways as the enemy threaded the gauntlet of traps.
‘I wish I had both arms,’ he thought, the dark outside telling him night had fallen. Jin’s face, shining in the light of their torch from the sweat of her exertions, came close to his.
“Now, I… am your… left.” She touched the withered arm he had hidden and protected and cursed his whole life.
I must have said that out loud. I am very tired.
Together they built the last barriers.
It was late when they settled in the farthest room beneath the roof. A once-grand suite. They had a small fire and Jin made rice in her wok. There were eggs also. And tea.
They made love. He held her close and she whispered over and over in his ear that she loved him.
That she loved Broken Feather.
LATER, AS SHE slept he thought of the feather in Sergeant Presley’s pack.
She is my left arm now.
My left side.
Me.
Broken Feather.
He slept for a while and when he awoke it was still deep night.
There was a little more to do.
Jin did not wake as he took his charcoal and a small torch. For the rest of the night he worked at the faces he sketched near the traps. Or sometimes along a mildewing wall where he would get a good shot from the barricades.
Something to distract them from his traps and hiding places.
It was just before dawn when he left to feed Horse. He gave Horse water and walked him down onto the beach. He whispered the things he always whispered to Horse. Things that made Horse feel good about himself.
Vainglorious things.
He staked Horse in the tree line beyond the beach to the south. There was a little water and grass. If they didn’t make it, in time Horse would pull free. Be free.
He patted Horse one last time and looked deep into the eyes of his friend.
Trying to read his mind as he’d always tried to do.
Failing as he’d always failed.
He returned to their bed and lay down, taking everything in. Listening to the morning. The offshore wind, smelling of salt and fruit. The gray light turning to gold. The old place.
They were coming now.
In sleep Jin drew closer to him and murmured something in her dream.
“Now I am your left.”
Chapter 50
The Boy watched them from a corner window on the third floor. He saw the hunters coming along the trail left by Horse. They scanned the stumps of chimneys and overgrown lots, wary that he might snipe at them from the tall grass beyond.
They’ll come to this old place from Before.
He watched until they disappeared in front of what was once the lobby. The place of the dirty canvas picture.
SHAO FAN CALLED for a halt. The thick silence of the heat and loneliness of the place was broken by an offshore breeze, dull and sweet, sweeping through the high eucalyptus trees along the road.
He’ll be inside. The savage and his traps.
He’ll be watching us, even now.
Shao Fan knew there would be traps. But his men, his hunters, knew how the savage worked now. They’d be alert. They’d know what to look for.
So, they had to go in. All race transgressors must have their appointment at the crossroads.
Shao Fan signaled two men. The last two scouts.
They rode up to him and he whispered instructions. Moments later they were off to the south.
Shao Fan dismounted and signaled his remaining men to do the same.
They brought their breech loaders.
THE BOY TOOK his first shot as the hunters exited the main building. He shot from the corner window of the third floor looking down on nine men as they crossed the crumbling pavement near the cracked and broken swimming pool.
He rested his gun on a platform deep inside the shadows of the room.
The shot hammered through the silence and the men scrambled for cover.
Just one shot. Then move to a new position. Just like you taught me, Sergeant, even though you said there would never be a need because all the “ammo” was used up killin’ ourselves. Still, I’d wanted to learn and you’d showed me.
I think it was a way for you to pass the time and teach me the only thing you’d ever known, and not think about the past.
He withdrew into the dusty shadows of the old room and heard them calling out to each other below. Beneath that, he could hear the dying man.
He found Jin at their camp on the third floor.
“They’re here.”
She nodded and said something in Chinese.
“I want you to go to the roof now. Block the door with the broken concrete I left there. Don’t open it until you hear my voice.”
She nodded and he led her to the access stairwell that climbed up to the roof. She turned back to him, the broken feather in her hand. From it dangled a small leather thong. Quickly she reached up and tied it into his long hair.
He watched her ascend the steps and push on the rusty door. Bright light filled the dingy gloom of the stairwell. She glanced back at him and he silently beckoned her to close the door, wishing she didn’t have to. Wishing they could be free of this day.
Yes, you said that also, Sergeant. You would say it to me now.
The Boy made his way down to the first floor, all the while avoiding his traps. He took up a position behind the first-floor barricade at the end of a long, dark hall. The other end led to the pool area.
They would come through the hall from there.
In his mind he traced their route. They would funnel into this corridor as they found the other corridors were blocked and trapped.
Take a shot and move to the second floor. Be disciplined in this.
He waited, hearing nothing.
Maybe a mouse moving along the rotten baseboard.
In time he saw a dark figure detach itself from the shadows at the far end of the hall. The light from the corridor outlined the silhouette of a man carrying a rifle at the ready.
The Boy transitioned the rifle across the sacking he had laid for a rest atop the barrier, letting the sight fall
