Old Han decided to wait and see what would happen. Hedidn't see any weapons; maybe they would just move on. Just in case, Hanreached into his glove box and pulled out a pistol. As the gang approached, heshrunk in his seat. When the first of the group did not pass the car, he knewhe was in trouble. A man in a gray sweatshirt began pounding on the driver'sside window, while another man began pounding on the other side. Soon, more hadjoined in the pounding. He felt the car begin to rock back and forth.
"Motherfuck it." Old Han stepped on the gas.Bodies flew left and right, but Han still couldn't see as there were threepeople clinging to the hood of his car. He swerved to the right, and two ofthem fell off to the side. His view was still obstructed however, as a man withan eye hanging by a scrap of tendon still clung to the hood of the Daewoo. Hanswerved to the left this time, and his car hopped the curb, drove on thesidewalk for a few yards, and then thumped back onto the street.
He screamed triumphantly at the top of his lungs as thelast man rolled off of his car. The noise in the car was deafening, as hismuffler had dropped off when he jumped the curb. The loud sputtering of hisengine exploded throughout the early morning air, echoing through streetsteeming with the dead. As Han sped on, he kept his pistol in his lap. Herocketed down the streets, heedless of speed limits. He saw it now. Thedestruction, the wandering people. His eyes had finally opened. He had to dodgeseveral grasping sets of arms reaching for his car as he weaved through thecity streets. He avoided oncoming cars, doing their own swerving. In one yard,he saw a man with a shotgun firing into a group of people. He continued on.
When he finally pulled into the driveway of hissingle-level ranch home, his hair had escaped its ridiculous comb-over. Itstuck out every which way. With his pistol in his hand, he turned off the carand sprinted toward the front door. He pulled his giant key ring out andsearched frantically for the right one. He found it and burst through the frontdoor of his house. He slammed the door shut behind him and locked the door. Hewas standing there looking out the blinds when his wife came up behind him.
He could smell the sickening stench of her perfume beforeher arm snaked around his waist. He could feel the saggy meat of her breastsagainst his back. The feeling revolted him.
"What are you looking for?" Fang asked inperfect English.
Han ignored her and kept peering out the window throughhis thick-lensed glasses. They must have been thirty-years-old, but the glasseswere all that he had left from China... that and his repugnant wife. There...at the street corner. He saw two, maybe three people walking down the street.They must have been drawn to his house by the thunderous noise of hismuffler-less Daewoo. He backed away from the blinds, and shoved his wife away.
She looked at him with hurt in her eyes. She always hadthat look. It infuriated him.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
Han ran his hands through his thinning hair, causing thinwisps of it to stand up in even crazier directions. "Have you heardanything weird tonight?"
"Weird? What do you mean?"
"I mean crazy people. Running around, hurt."
Fang look confused. "I was sleeping for most of thenight. What's going on?"
Han dismissed her with a wave of his hand and walked overto the couch. He plopped down on the couch, annoyed by the divot his wife's asshad made in the couch over the year, and reached for the remote. He turned onthe TV. While he waited for it to warm up, his wife plopped down on the couchnext to him, crowding him with her body, her perfume snaking its way up hisnose.
The picture finally showed up on the TV, and he flippedthe channel to the news. They sat in silence as the pictures flitted across thescreen. His wife inched closer and closer to him as horrifying image afterhorrifying image flashed across the TV. Things were bad, very bad. For thefirst time in a long time, he didn't mind his wife's touch. He welcomed it.
He looked at his wife and kissed her, not the coldAmerican kisses that they had shared for the last few decades, but the hot kissof their youth. Who knows what would have happened next had the window notburst open and the maimed corpse of an American youth begun crawling throughthe window.
Chapter 36: This Old Cell
Ace heard the door to his cell clang open, just before heblacked out. When he awoke, he awoke to a strange sound that was barely audibleunderneath the buzz of the cellblock's yelling. It sounded like a cat eatingwet cat food, smacking its lips together. Ace almost faded out, as he thoughtof his cat at home, a small, orange beast with a crooked tail being watched byhis mother. His fans would get a kick out of knowing that he still lived athome with his mother and a cat. The only thing that stopped him from fading outcompletely was that the noises were much too loud for a cat to be making them.
He opened his eyes and groaned. His throat was bruisedand raw. As he sat up on his cold metal cot, he saw his cellmate kneeling oversomething with his back to Ace. It took a while for his eyes to adjust, butthen the face of the cop with the red goatee came into focus. His eyes staredup at the ceiling... lifeless.
Suddenly, Ace was no longer a fan of America. Blood ranfrom the cop's mouth, and Ace could only think of one thing to do. He stood up,barely able to steady himself on his
