The Boy ducked back behind the cover of the wall.
I’ll get one shot and I have to use you to aim, he said to his withered hand. So work!
He moved in a new direction along the wall and when he rose from behind it again, he saw the shaven- headed Chinese drag Jin across the inner courtyard and into the yawning entrance of that other building where the shredded picture from Before hung on the wall, the lobby. The remaining Chinese were retreating into the darkness. The Boy could see the tallest of them, their leader, hunching low, shouting orders angrily as they retreated.
The Boy raised the rifle, knowing there would be just this one shot before she disappeared.
But he could already feel his withered hand, shaking and weak, refusing to be used, refusing to steady the rifle.
Sweat poured into his eyes as drifting black smoke stung his nose.
He aimed for the back of the man as he dragged Jin into the darkness of the lobby.
The Boy fired, knowing he missed.
And Shaven-head and Jin disappeared into the darkness.
Only their leader, the tall, thin Chinese with the mustache, remained. He smiled at the Boy, then darted after Jin and the other hunters.
Black smoke was coming through cracks and rents in the roof. The Boy smelled melting plastic and acrid smoke. Heat came up at him in waves.
He searched the sides of the building for a way down, but already the flames were crawling up through most of the roof and out the windows below.
I am thinking!
He loped toward the far end of the roof, closest to the cliff’s edge and the sea below. Below the roof, a balcony hung out over the cliff. The Boy lowered himself down onto the balcony and saw thick sheets of flame racing across the ceiling of the room connected to the balcony.
Below, the sea pounded the rocky coast. The water was a deep blue in places and in others it churned a foamy green. A stunted tree hanging off the cliff’s edge swayed in gusty blasts of heat from the fire.
The Boy slung the rifle over his back. He climbed on top of the railing and leapt for the tree. Flailing with his good arm, he crashed into its branches and a moment later was sliding down the cliff toward the water below. He clawed for purchase and his good arm found a rock to grab onto.
He hung halfway down the cliff, breathing hard.
Above, black smoke rose into the sky.
It would be a steep climb back to the top. Almost impossible.
He was exhausted.
Below, he could hear the sea washing itself against the black rocks of the cliff.
If they come to look for me, there’s not much I can do, and I’ll be smashed to bits against the side of the rocks if I drop down into the ocean.
Above, the burning roof collapsed into the main structure with a groaning crash. Black, oily smoke billowed high into the sky and the flames seemed to roar above the ocean’s strike against the coast.
The Boy hung there, waiting.
He heard nothing.
No voice.
I need you now, Sergeant.
IN TIME, HE worked his way down to the rocks below and followed them along the water’s edge as the surf threated to drag him into its turmoil. The sun was sinking into the ocean and all was purple and red fire.
When he made the beach, he was limping and no matter how strongly he told his withered side to move, it wouldn’t. It was a lock that would not open. He found Horse and dropped the rifle, his fingers trembling as he drank what little water Horse left him.
When the dregs were finished, he mounted Horse and rode back to the fire.
The building from Before was little more than smoking timber. The Chinese were gone and there was no sign of Jin.
He searched for their trail but it takes time. There had been too much confusion in the dirt and the dust of their tracks.
When he found their trail he saw they were riding north, back toward the Village of Happy People.
Chapter 51
He rode through the night but the going was slow. It took all his skill to stay on their trail. They did not stop as he hoped they would.
How many hours ahead of me are they?
Tall coastal pines rose up in thick stands as he crossed a small ridge, their scent heavy in the dew-laden cold.
He thought of the amount of time he was trapped on the cliff.
It was almost evening when he’d made it back onto the beach.
When did it start?
The fog crossed the beaches and marshes as he rode, following their trail through the night and the sand.
The battle at the old place had started in the morning.
He continued on through the night, even when the fog was thick and cold about him. The bearskin had gone in the fire and only Horse’s heaving body kept him warm.
I have been cold before.
He passed the shadowy remains of ancient palaces and almost lost their trail.
He found the tracks of their horses in the ash of some long-gone fire.
His eyelids were heavy.
‘Fatigue settles over me like the bearskin would,’ he thought.
He sucked the night wind into his nostrils, feeling the cold flood his brain as he rode out onto the coastal plain following tracks through the ether of fog and saw grass.
I have been tired before.
I have been here before.
You were with me, Sergeant.
He thought of Jin and rode through the swirling salt-laden mist as nightmares of what might happen to her tormented him.
At dawn, he saw the Village of Happy People lying across the still, black water of the channel. It was quiet. The trail of the hunters led the Boy here.
They had ridden hard and they were tired. They would have stopped to rest.
He rode across the old bridge.
There was no one out.
Mist shrouded the sunken boats lying in the dark water, and the beach beyond was lost to nothingness.
The Boy heard the creak of the wrecked boats shifting in their graves at the pull of the invisible tide.
The Boy heard the gentle groan of rope.
He rode forward.
Halfway down the street, she hung from the ancient cargo hook above the main dock.
Her arms at her sides.
Her long dark hair hiding her face.
