The Ghost Shift (19 page)

“I saw her body, in the fields by Dongguan.”

Wing smiled brightly, as she’d done in the photo twenty years before, to cover her distress.

“She came home,” she said.

Mei woke twice in the night. She’d slept for so long during the day and had heard so many secrets that she couldn’t settle. The second time, she rose and went to the window in the study, as Wing had done on the night Mei and her sister had been brought to the orphanage. Nothing moved in the courtyard, and the hills were vast and dark. The old woman slept on a thin mattress, her face untroubled. She looked happier at having unburdened herself.

In the morning, Wing bustled about, making Mei’s breakfast and taking care of her. A rainstorm pattered on the window.

“Why did you never tell me about Ping?” Mei was lying on a sofa with springs that had long since given out. She wasn’t hurt anymore. She just wanted to know. “Not the whole story—that I’d had a sister.”

“I thought about it, Mei. When Bai had gone. You were a little girl. The other staff members had left by then. There was no one apart from me who could remember it. But I thought you’d never see her again, and she would never know of you. You’d just stopped asking me who your mother and father had been. I didn’t want to hurt you more.”

“I understand, Auntie.”

They spent the day quietly. Every so often, Mei checked her phone, but there was nothing except for instant messages from Luli:
Where ARE you, girl? Talk to me!!
She ignored them, safe in the cocoon of anonymity. She was enjoying being out of reach, with the old woman coddling her. Wing couldn’t walk very far, and not being able to leave
felt comfortable. In the late afternoon, she got up to stretch her legs and looked out of the window.

As she did, a green car with tinted windows and army plates came through the gates. It halted in the courtyard below and two soldiers got out—youths with polished boots and eager faces. They opened the doors for a woman officer and a young man in a long coat who yawned as he stepped in a puddle, saying something that made the others laugh.

It was Yao.

Mei stepped back in shock. She had thought she was far away from Guangzhou, but they had come after her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Auntie. A visitor.”

“A visitor?” Wing’s face filled with concern, as if any intrusion down the long lane to the Institute was bound to be trouble.

“I’ll go and see.” She didn’t want them marching up, asking her guardian hard questions.

By the time she reached the last flight of the stairs, Yao was starting to climb them with the woman officer. The soldiers were running behind them, while a middle-aged man looked on from the hall with a group of assistants. Mei had never seen him before. The people who managed the Institute came and went often, and Wing was the only constant.

“Mei,” Yao said, surprised to find her approaching.

“What are you doing here?” She examined his face, trying to find meaning, but it looked as carefree as usual.

“It’s nothing to worry about. They need to ask you some questions, back in Guangzhou.”

“What questions?”

The others stood watching and listening silently, as if watching a performance. Yao hesitated, embarrassed at being forced to explain in public.

“We can talk later, Mei.”

“No. I want to know now.” Mei raised her voice, the words echoing from the tiles. She felt herself starting to panic.

“They found something when they were investigating the Wolf—some evidence. You can explain it, I’m sure.”

“Evidence? What evidence?”

“I can’t tell you. Not now.”

“Why did they send you?”

Yao shook his head, as if he couldn’t take her interrogation anymore, and glanced at the officer. She said something that Mei didn’t catch and the two soldiers sprang up the stairs, grabbing her by each arm. She tried to pull free, but they held her.

“Tell them to let me go, Yao.” She stared at him, willing him to intervene, but he turned away.

“We’re going to the station.”

“This is stupid. I need my things.”

The woman barked at the soldiers, and one let her arm go and ran up the stairs. The other led her down behind Yao. Far above, she heard the soldier marching along a hallway and banging a door open. She was half-led, half-pulled out across the courtyard to the car. Then the soldier placed a hand on her head and pushed her into the passenger seat. After two minutes, his partner ran out with her bag and threw it into the trunk. He sat by her while the second soldier climbed behind the wheel, and Yao got into the front seat.

“Thank you, Major. Your help has been invaluable,” Yao said to the woman through the window. She saluted sharply. Despite everything, Mei admired his sense of authority.

She’d hardly formulated the thought before the driver put his foot down and the car squealed forward. Mei looked back for a glimpse of Wing, and the guard abruptly slapped her cheek. The shock of the blow made her cry out.

“Yao. Stop them.”

He didn’t turn. “Just do what they say, Mei.”

At the station, the soldier pushed her sideways and forced her head down onto the seat, with her back to him, then pulled her hands together behind her back and snapped handcuffs on. The metal jammed into her skin. She thought of the cell at the base and the Wolf’s gray face as he had been released from the bench. This was
how it started,
shuanggui.
Why hadn’t she realized that before? She’d believed the Party’s powers were used for the good of the people. It was a force for justice, no matter how harsh. Now she was in the trap.

She walked, trying not to look at the faces staring from a crowd of people gathered in the waiting hall for the Guangzhou train. On the platform, they marched to the front of the carriage. A guard waved them on board, unlocking a door at the end.

“Give me the key, then you can go,” Yao said.

The guard obeyed and bowed to the soldiers before entering the next carriage. They stepped inside, and Yao locked the door again. They were in a deluxe soft sleeper, with two bunks per cabin—the kind reserved for officials. It was empty.

“You can release her now.”

“We shouldn’t,” one of the soldiers replied.

“You’re scared of a girl? Think she might overpower you? Put her in there and I’ll deal with her.”

A grin spread across the soldier’s face, and he punched Yao lightly on the arm. He said something under his breath to his companion, and they both laughed. Unlocking the cuffs, he pushed her into a cabin, where she fell against a sofa. Then he threw in her bag and slid the door closed.

Alone, Mei attempted to calm herself. Dusk was falling, and she couldn’t see much from the window. She tried lying on a bed, but she was too anxious to rest. An image of the Wolf’s torturer spitting on the window forced itself into her mind, and she shuddered as she imagined his hands on her. The train jerked its way out of the station, on its way to her inquisition.

They were passing through a valley, with mountains on both sides, when the door slid open and Yao came in. He sighed heavily as it closed and then sat beside her, patting her hand.

“Are you okay?”

She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. Her jaw quivered, and a tear spilled down her cheek.

“How do you
think
I feel?”

“I’m sorry, Mei.” He tried to put one arm around her shoulder, but she shook it off and pulled away.

“What’s the evidence?”

“I don’t know exactly—”

“What is it, Yao? Don’t lie to me.”

“They found the money in your room. The Swiss francs from the envelope were taped under the bed.” He looked unsure whether to trust her. “Mei, you told me you gave it to the Wolf.”

Mei stood and leaned against the carriage window, her agitation rising as she absorbed the shock of the accusation. “Yes, I did. I didn’t take anything.”

“Because it looks like you were working together. You kept the money for him because he was being watched.”

“God, Yao. They’re setting me up, don’t you see?”

“Who would do that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Pan Yue.”

Yao frowned. “Don’t accuse the deputy secretary of a crime. She helped you when you didn’t deserve it.”

Mei gasped. She’d given Yao a hard time over his family, but she’d always trusted him. He’d been on her side, against authority and the petty stupidities of their training. This wasn’t the Yao she knew—it was the voice of his father, of the Party elite. Her blood rose as she stared at him.

“I didn’t deserve it? What do you mean?”

Yao looked disdainful. “You know. You’ve protected the Wolf, although it was obvious that he was out of control. Pan tried to clean up a mess, and you blocked her. You behaved stupidly, and you ignored my advice.”

“So this is my punishment, is it?”

He didn’t answer directly. “Tell them everything. They’ll believe you if you tell the truth.”

She faced the window, feeling the weight of the train push her as it rounded a curve and started to head toward Hunan. Yao was wrong. Pan would do anything she needed to please Chen, to advance her own career. She’d thought they might let her go, but they wouldn’t, of course. There was one witness, and she wasn’t a reliable one.

“They won’t listen, Yao. They’ve got enough to finish me. I won’t be able to escape. The Wolf didn’t.”

She shuddered, remembering the cells she’d passed by to reach him—the smell of people who’d been locked up and left to rot in limbo. Yao’s hand fell on her shoulder, turning her.

“I can help. I just have to call my father. Evidence can be found, and evidence can be lost. It’s happened before.”

He looked at her, his eyes soft. He stroked her cheek with one palm, and his left arm slipped around her waist. Then he bent forward and kissed her. His lips were warm, and his tongue darted into her mouth. She let it circle hers, the physical pleasure like a balm.

Yao pushed forward, parting her legs with a knee. “I wanted you, but you were too tight,” he murmured. “You need me now.”

He kept kissing her and took his hand from her cheek, reaching down to her blouse and unbuttoning it. His long fingers slipped inside and caressed her breast, arousing her.

Then Mei realized.

She pushed him back with both palms, surprising him with her force. “It wasn’t Pan. It was you.”

He smiled, as if she were being silly.

“Come on, Mei. You don’t think that, do you?”

He reached forward to stroke her cheek again, but she brushed his arm aside with one hand.

“Tell me you didn’t set me up. Plant the evidence and offer to save me. You were the only one who knew. What are you doing here?”

Yao smiled with his perfect teeth and shook his head. He couldn’t deny it, and he didn’t care.

“Don’t be a cock-tease.” He put his arms on her shoulders and pinned her to the window, then leaned in to kiss her again. She turned her face away and attempted to wriggle out, but he tightened his grip.

“I’m going to fuck you, Mei. I’ve waited for it for a long time. The sooner you let me, the better it will be for you.”

His face was inches away, and there was a small gap between their bodies. Mei twisted her feet into the character two stance and pushed her knees inward, rooting herself to fight. Yao was too aroused to notice.

“You think I won’t resist?” she said.

“Not if you’re smart.”

She was too tense on her first blow, a
jing cheung
palm strike to his chest, driving the base of her wrist into his floating rib, but she felt it compress. Yao staggered back in pain.

“You bitch,” he said, his face flushed. He stepped forward and raised his arm to strike her. But Mei’s first blow had settled her into combat, and the turmoil in her brain was gone. Seeing the path of his long, slow roundhouse slap before he even launched it, she darted her left arm to deflect it as she transferred her weight to her right hip and punched him in the throat.

This time, she was fully relaxed, the force traveling up through her knees and hips, through her arm and loosened fingers until, at the last split-second, she turned them into a fist and slammed it into him. His larynx crunched, his eyes bulged, and he drifted on his feet like a tree about to fall.

The
sifu
always said:
Wing Chun is efficient. Defeat your opponent in the shortest time. End it, and be on your way.
As Yao tottered, she pulled her other elbow back and drove the base of her palm powerfully into his open jaw. His teeth crunched as his head snapped back, compressing the nerves in his neck, and he lost consciousness. The fight had lasted four seconds.

As he teetered, she leapt behind to catch him before he hit the floor, so that the crack of his skull would not alert the soldiers in the next cabin. Squatting, she placed a hand over his mouth to prevent any noise emerging and held him around the throat by one arm. It was now his survival or hers. If the guards heard her or if she released Yao, she would soon be in
shuanggui
, strapped to the tiger bench. Mei squeezed until Yao’s face turned pink, then kept her vice-like hold until it had turned tomato-colored. She didn’t stop, even when his feet started to twitch.