City of Ghosts

by J. H. Moncrieff

  This Yuèhai barely resembled the thing I’d first encountered at my campfire. Instead of the ghastly pallor I’d grown accustomed to, she had color in her cheeks. She smiled often, as if by reflex, practically dancing through the house as she carried boxes to the front door. The move to a new village wasn’t something she dreaded. It had been a great adventure, anticipated with optimism.

  In spite of the trouble she’d caused me, I had to admit Yuèhai had been a beautiful young woman. And she had been happy. She was a girl I would have liked, if I’d met her any other way.

  “Father, what’s wrong?” She’d noticed the expression on the elder man’s face, and her smile faltered.

  He shook his head. “Nothing. Just the musings of a silly old man, I suppose.” He finally turned away from the window, and although I could no longer see his face, it was obvious he was trying to reassure her. I hoped she wouldn’t buy it.

  Something was wrong, had been wrong for weeks.

  “You’re not that old, Father,” she teased. “It must be very difficult to leave your home—Hensu will always be home to me as well—but we will have more opportunities in the new village. There is a college nearby—I’ll be able to continue my studies without moving so far away. And I can come home on the weekends.”

  “That would be nice.” He didn’t sound the slightest bit cheered. If someone had told me my house was in imminent danger of being destroyed by a river, I wouldn’t be happy either.

  While I couldn’t exactly read his mind, I had glimpses into how he was feeling, and a heaviness weighed him down. It made him feel much older than he was. I probed for more details like you’d worry a loose tooth with your tongue, but nothing came. Something disturbed him about the move, though, and it wasn’t simply the loss of his home. It had to do with Yuèhai.

  The scene faded until I was able to see the river again. I expected a soldier to yank me to my feet, but no one came. I couldn’t hear anyone yelling, either. Flexing the fingers of my right hand, I attempted to loosen their grip on the violin, but they wouldn’t move. An insect crawled over my face, settling on my nose.

  The air turned opaque again, and this time the man was shaking Yuèhai awake.

  She murmured in her sleep, burrowing into her pillow, and I was as frustrated as her father. Wake up, Yuèhai. Wake up! Finally she sat up, blinking.

  “What is it, Father?” Seeing his terror, her eyes widened as she came fully awake. “What’s wrong? What is happening?”

  “You have to get up, Yuèhai. Please hurry. Put this on; it’s raining.” He tossed her the rain jacket I’d seen many times. She pulled it on over her blue dress, which I now saw was a nightgown.

  “You’re scaring me,” she said, her voice wavering. “Please tell me what troubles you.”

  Instead of answering, her father shoved her out of the bedroom. It was a hard push that sent her stumbling, but she regained her balance before she fell.

  “You have to leave the village, Yuèhai. You have to run. It is the only way—it is—”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as Yuèhai begged her father for answers, but he brushed off her questions, dragging her to the front door. As cruel as it seemed, I understood her father wasn’t doing it to be mean. That sense of impending doom circled around him, heavier than before. Something bad was about to happen, and her father knew it.

  Finally, frustrated, he grabbed her by the jacket and pulled her so close their noses almost touched. “They’re not taking the girls, Yuèhai,” he whispered, tears running down his own face. “If you stay here, you will die. You have to leave. You have to go now.”

  I wanted to scream at her, to tell her to move her ass and run, but there was no use. I was years too late to save her.

  Someone pounded on the door. It sounded like whoever it was wanted to break it down. Both Yuèhai and her father jumped, and he flung her away from him. “Hide,” he hissed. “Hide where they’ll never find you.”

  The unwelcome visitor hammered the door again, and Yuèhai’s father rushed to open it. Several men shoved past him into the room, and I wasn’t surprised to see one of them was Harold Wu. He was younger and packing a bit more weight, but it was undoubtedly him.

  “You were supposed to be at the station by now.”

  The older man bowed to the smug little shit who would fancy himself a tour guide later in life. “I am sorry. I pray I have not inconvenienced you.”

  Harold stalked around the room with his nose in the air, sniffing like a rat on the trail of carrion. He spotted something on the table and rushed toward it. I groaned as Yuèhai’s father stiffened. The man was terrified—I could feel the fear radiating off him—but he was also determined not to give in to that thug, and for that, I admired him.

  “You did not give your daughter the sleeping tea? But why? Because of you, she will suffer.”

  Yuèhai’s father sank to his knees. “Please spare her, Hongqi. No one will know. I have told her she has to run far away and never return. Yuèhai is an obedient girl. She will do what she is told.”

  Harold wrinkled his nose in disgust. He gestured at his goons, and they yanked the old man off the floor. Yuèhai’s father stared at Harold beseechingly, trembling where he stood. It was painful to watch.

  “She is still a girl. She must die with the rest of them.”

  “But we need our women,” Yuèhai’s father protested. “Already in our country, there are too many men. Our people are in jeopardy. Without women, we will die out.”

  Harold spat on the floor. “Women are worthless. They are a nuisance. Especially the women in this village. No one will miss them.”

  “I cannot kill my daughter. Before her mother passed on from this world, I promised her I would always take care of Yuèhai. I will not break my word.”

  “Then you have killed yourself as well.” My fist, the one that wasn’t gripping the violin, tightened. How I’d love to wipe that sick sneer off his face. “Leave him. He is not worth our time.” The goons glanced at each other before dropping the older man to the floor. They were no doubt disappointed they hadn’t gotten to rough anyone up.

  The men left Yuèhai’s father, who shook with fear and rage. I heard the door slam, and then the chilling sound of hammering.

  The old man hurried to his kitchen door and pushed against it, but it held fast.

  It was too late.

  “You are an evil man. The gods will punish you for what you have done.” Yuèhai’s father brandished his fist at the front window, where Harold was still visible.

  Harold smiled at him. “Then I’ll see you in hell, Mr. Li.”

  Yuèhai ran from her hiding place when she heard her father’s cries. She flinched when she saw Harold in the window, and tugged her father’s sleeve.

  “What is going on? Why is Hongqi here?”

  Mr. Li’s kind face crumpled as he took his daughter’s hands in his. “I am sorry, Yuèhai. I have failed you. I should have made you leave last night, but I was too weak and afraid.”

  Lifting her chin, Yuèhai faced the window. Hongqi scowled back at her.

  “Please don’t do this. It is I who rejected you, not my father. Let him go and I will be your wife.”

  Looking at the ground, Hongqi reddened. When he focused on her again, his eyes had narrowed to cruel slits, but at least that foul smirk was gone.

  “You had your chance to prove you were worthy. It is too late now.”

  “It is never too late to do what is right. Save my father, I beg of you.”

  Mr. Li cried out, seizing his daughter by the shoulders. “No! I will not see you married to that monster.”

  “I am the monster? I don’t recall you protesting when you accepted the sleeping tea. Your change of heart doesn’t alter the fact that it was you who condemned your daughter to die, not I.”

  Yuèhai’s father went pale, but she ignored him, concentrating on the one person who could rescue them from their fate.

  “We have a long history, you and I,” s
he said. “When you broke your arm at five years old, it was I who carried you. Not so long ago, we were like brother and sister. If you do this, it will follow you for the rest of your life. You will never know peace.”

  The man I knew as Harold snorted. “I will take my chances.”

  Without another word, he left the window. A sheet of wood replaced his sneering face.

  Hammering came from the other door now. I wished Yuèhai had left while she still had the chance, but she would never abandon her father.

  There was a calmness in her eyes that betrayed her resignation.

  “You are not the only one sentenced to death. The men have decided not to bring any women to the new village,” Mr. Li said, his voice breaking. “I was supposed to give you the sleeping tea and leave you here to die, but I couldn’t do it. Perhaps it would have been kinder if I had.”

  Yuèhai’s lips quivered. “What about old Mrs. Chen? What about Padma? She is only a baby.”

  He nodded. “Even Padma. Hongqi and his friends are evil.”

  “Why didn’t you leave me, as the others were left?”

  Her father gazed at her for a long moment. “You have always been a good and obedient girl, Yuèhai. You do not deserve to die. I am sorry I did not have the courage to alert you sooner. You could have escaped.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t leave you. And they would have killed you.”

  “They will kill me anyway.” He shrugged, and then indicated the teapot, which waited on the table. “Perhaps we should drink the tea? The waters will come soon.”

  “No. I will face my death with honor.”

  “Death by drowning is a terrible fate, Daughter.”

  “You can have the tea if you wish. I will not let them murder me while I sleep. Let them kill me while I watch.”

  Yuèhai spent the next hour trying to find a way out of her house, but it was hopeless. The windows were boarded up. The doors were nailed shut. But as frantic as she was to save herself and her father, she didn’t panic. Finally, she sat down at the kitchen table across from Mr. Li and took his hand in her own. They sat like that, looking at each other, for several minutes.

  I heard a roar and knew it would be over soon. The dam had opened. The water was coming. I tried to pull away—I didn’t want to see the end, but I was still held fast. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

  As the river hit the house, the walls splintered into a million pieces. It wasn’t the slow, gradual flood I’d imagined. In a fraction of a second, Yuèhai’s house was obliterated.

  Screams from the other houses told me several men had had second thoughts as well. Or maybe the sleeping tea hadn’t been strong enough.

  Within minutes, the entire village was swallowed. One by one, the lights in the little houses went out.

  My vision cleared. As my hand relaxed, I was able to free the instrument from the mud. It had once been a beautiful violin. Now it was all that remained to tell the story of what had happened here. Not just to Yuèhai and her father, but to every woman in the village and to the men who had loved them.

  I heard shouting as the soldiers approached. Whatever merciful stoppage of time had occurred was over.

  Harold was the first to find me. His face widened in a grin when he saw me lying in the mud.

  Using a hand for ballast, I struggled to get up, but staggered, falling to my knees. Unbearable pain lanced through my left leg. The soldiers soon joined Harold and strode toward me, guns in hand. Maybe I wouldn’t even make it to prison. Unable to fight, I waited for them to do their worst.

  Strong hands grasped me under the arms and lifted me to my feet. I turned to see Mr. Li holding me up, deep lines of sorrow etched upon his face. Yuèhai stood beside him, but she didn’t acknowledge me. She focused on her old enemy.

  Harold’s grin of triumph vanished when he saw her, but he recovered his composure a lot faster than I’d expected.

  “You have no place in this world,” he yelled, pointing at Yuèhai. “You are gone. You are nothing.”

  Yuèhai’s face remained expressionless. Her voice was calm. “Today is the day you will answer for the wrong you have done us. We stand before you not as victims, but as judges. You will pay for your crimes.”

  Then I saw Yuèhai and her father were not alone on the riverbank. There were dozens of women with them. Women of many different generations, from the very old to babes in arms. Some were as beautiful as they had been in life, and some were bags of bones.

  Mr. Li wasn’t the only man, either. There were others with him, men who’d refused to abandon their wives and daughters.

  The soldiers stopped short when they saw the dead villagers on the riverfront. Most of them panicked, sprinting away from the marsh, their feet slipping in the muck. One remained, struck silent with fear, his face drained of color.

  Harold opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a gasp. Before he could say a word, a violent coughing fit seized him. He doubled over, clutching his sides as his choking increased in intensity. The remaining soldier stared at him, brows wrinkling in confusion as Harold pawed the air. Harold’s face turned blue, darkening toward purple. Desperate to get a breath, he clawed at his throat. His gagging and retching made my stomach churn.

  His remaining goon moved to help, but froze when Yuèhai spoke.

  “This man is responsible for our deaths. He trapped us in our homes when the floodwaters came. He must be punished.”

  Harold’s cheeks swelled and tears of pain filled his eyes. He’d stopped coughing, but he didn’t seem to be breathing, either. The burly soldier hesitated, and as he reached for Harold, it happened.

  A torrent of water burst from the tour guide’s mouth. His lips stretched wide in a silent scream as more and more liquid gushed forth, asphyxiating him while I watched, unable to look away. I knew exactly what that water tasted like.

  The last soldier ran into the bush, screaming.

  Harold’s body shook, the force of the water cranking his neck back at an unnatural angle. Water erupted from his ears. There was a wet pop as his eyeballs were forced from his skull.

  I’d hear that sound in my nightmares forever.

  The air rippled with energy as Yuèhai glared at the man she had once loved as a brother. He collapsed at her feet, jerking and shuddering, and still the water gushed from him, escaping through his pores. It was tinted pink with his blood.

  With a last effort, Harold reached for her leg. She kicked his hand aside. There was a horrific tearing sound as the river continued to surge from his body. His ribcage shattered with a series of snaps and raw pieces of flesh escaped from his mouth. The water ran red now. Squeezing my eyes shut, I turned away and vomited on the riverbank.

  Finally, it was finished. What was left of him lay facedown in the mud, a battered, crumpled corpse.

  Yuèhai crouched beside me, mud soaking into her dress. I shied away from her until I realized she was smiling. The joyous young woman had returned.

  “It is done,” she said. “You can go home now.”

  * * *

  “Jackson, are you all right? Jackson, say something.”

  Kate’s chin was smeared with dirt. My cap was askew on her head.

  She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.

  “I’m okay, but I think my leg’s busted. I can’t stand.”

  “Søren went for help. Try to relax. We’ll be out of here soon.”

  “Are—are Harold’s thugs gone?”

  She nodded. “They ran out of here like the devil was after them. When they came screaming out of the bushes, they scared the shit out of everyone. You should have seen it—it was great. A tourist stampede.”

  I tried to laugh, but it was too soon. Tears streamed down my face.

  “Harold killed her, Kate. Her and all the women…he left them here to drown.”

  She wrapped her arms around me, cradling my head against her chest. “I know. Their suffering almost killed me. But can you feel how different it is now? The
y’ve moved on. You gave them peace.”

  “She…she let me go, Kate.” Overcome with grief, it took the last of my strength to get the words out. “But I still have to tell her story. Her real story. People need to know.”

  Kate rested her cheek against my head. “She’d like that. It’s the right thing to do.”

  I already knew exactly how it would start—I could see it in my mind. I would begin at the beginning, when big moneymaking schemes still clouded my brain.

  Before I’d met Yuèhai. Before I’d known what was important. Everything had seemed so simple, so easy then.

  It was easier than I thought.

  All I had to do was bide my time in one of the less popular temples, crouching behind a weird-ass statue while the guides checked for stragglers…

  Thanks for Reading

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  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks to my awesome friends from the 2014 Essential China tour group, especially Nicola Bennett, Andrew Henderson, Clifford Stephens, and Loren and Alana Frederickson. While City of Ghosts is a purely fictional account, you definitely inspired me. I could not have written this without you.

  The folks at DeathZone Books have been great to work with, and I’m thrilled to be one of their authors. Kelly Ann Martin is responsible for this gorgeous cover, while Jacob Hammer is my formatting genius.

  Being a writer is wonderful, but it can also be isolating. I’m fortunate to have a tremendous support system, especially my copy editor and spouse Chris Brogden, Dee-Dee Gould and Drew Kozub from my writing group, my personal cheerleaders Christine Brandt, Lisa Saunders, Anita Siraki, Nikki Burch, Kay Deveroux, Brett Lashuay, Crystal Bourque, Spencer Richard, Garrett Davis, Jared Synn, Louise Gibson, and all of my blog readers, friends, and my parents for their years of encouragement.