We Had Flags (Toxic World Book 3)

by Sean McLachlan

  The Reverend’s face took on a smug smile as he said “millions” like he’d just eaten some honey candy. Yu-jin felt rage rising up in her. Reverend Wallace had always talked of peace and faith and understanding. He’d even welcomed some of the refugees from the Righteous Horde into the congregation, saying they weren’t at fault for being deceived by a false faith. Now he seemed like a different person. His face was a red, sweaty mask of hatred. His glasses had fogged up, his mouth a big windbag that spewed bile.

  “Yes, they died, but still they killed. Still they continued to do Satan’s work. Many of you are too young to remember, but when I was young, just forty years ago after the last of the city-states had fallen, there were still roving bands of Chinese killers, the remnants of their old armies, stalking through the land. They were helped by the local Chinese, those who spoke English and wore proper clothes and pretended to be the same as us. It was they who rooted us out, they who betrayed us to those murderers. Those false neighbors who smiled at you and then plunged the dagger in your back. I was there, brethren, I saw. I saw the yellow hordes swooping down on us, killing, killing, killing.”

  Reverend Wallace’s voice broke off on a sob. He staggered and clutched the altar. For a moment he fell silent, trying to catch his breath. He took off his glasses and wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. Then he seemed to collect himself. He stood erect, put on his glasses, and looked right at Yu-jin. Her heart turned to ice.

  “Now I wish to hear no Christian say a word against the good Asians among us. For I remember my history, by friends. The Koreans, the Vietnamese, the Cambodians, and all the other groups. They fought by our side, or in their own factions against other factions in wars the Chinese tricked them into. No other Asians besides the Chinese attacked us. We must remember that. The Asians we have as neighbors are our friends. They are the good Asians.

  “And who knows the evil of the Chinese better than they? It was the Chinese who started the Great Malaysian Famine. It was the Chinese who turned Korea from a peninsula into an island. It was the Chinese, my friends. It was those people on the boat in Toxic Bay. They ruined this world!”

  Yu-jin stood up and shouted, “I’m Chinese. That’s right, I am, and I’ve never hurt anyone. Everything you’re saying is a lie. We didn’t start the wars, you people did!”

  Then she stormed past the pews of astonished faces and out of the church, slamming the door behind her.

  No she didn’t. That was her other self, the tough scavenger who faced down bandits and pulled a living from the wildlands. Right now she was the scared little girl, cowering in her pew with her mouth clamped shut, wincing as the Reverend’s words lashed at her soul.

  The sermon went on, and on. When it was finally done she slunk out of the church. Randy held her hand, oblivious.

  “Wow, that was real fire and brimstone, huh?” he chuckled. “I guess we needed it, though. Hard times ahead.”

  “Yeah,” Yu-jin said, managing a smile and hating herself for it. “Look, I got to see someone about a trade. Meet you in the house in a bit?”

  “All right,” Randy said, and gave her a kiss.

  Yu-jin walked off in a daze. She wandered between two shacks and suddenly doubled over. Her stomach heaved, spewing her half-digested breakfast all over the alleyway. She coughed, spat, bent over and shaking until the last contents of her stomach came out.

  As she stood there with her hands on her knees, she saw the little silver cross dangling from her neck. She pulled it off, threw it in the dirt, and walked away.

  By the third step she felt sorry. She went back and picked it up. She raised up the chain to put it around her neck, paused, and then finally put it in her pocket.

  Then she made for New City gate.

  The guard stopped her.

  “State your business,” he said.

  “I need to see The Doctor.”

  “He’s only seeing emergency cases at the moment. Go to Ahmed.”

  “This is an emergency case.”

  The guard looked her up and down. “You look OK.”

  “It’s a…woman thing.”

  The guard got an uncomfortable look. “Oh. Leave your weapons and go right in. You might have to wait, though.”

  Another guard accompanied her to the waiting room and had her sit by a desk where a teenager was writing down everything being transmitted by Radio Hope.

  “If you are living in a dangerous area, it’s best to try to remain invisible. You can camouflage your shelter and clothing in various ways…”

  After a few minutes the door opened and The Doctor poked his head out.

  “There’s a patient to see me?”

  Yu-jin rose, trying to control her trembling.

  “Yes.”

  “Come on in.”

  Yu-jin followed him into a bright, clean medical office that looked like something from an old photo. The Doctor had her sit on a padded table. He cocked his head as recognition came to his eyes.

  “Ah, it’s Little Miss Peaches.”

  “My name’s Song Yu-jin.”

  “Right.” He went over to a filing cabinet and started searching through it. “I’m looking forward to opening that Blue Can. You’re right about how badly I wanted them. You came to see me last year, didn’t you? Ah, here’s your file.”

  He began to read. Yu-jin fidgeted.

  “I see you came in for a fertility test with your husband…”

  “Boyfriend.”

  “…and he tested infertile. You tested OK, though.” The Doctor snapped the folder shut. “So, how can I be of service, Ms. Song?”

  “First I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

  “Your behavior?”

  “Threatening to eat the peaches in front of you. That was disrespectful.”

  The Doctor laughed. “If you think that’s disrespectful, you should spend time with your sheriff.”

  “Well, I was raised to be polite to my elders. So I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted, Ms. Song,” The Doctor said. “So what seems to be the trouble?”

  Yu-jin froze. Her heart pounded. She felt dizzy. She was glad she was sitting down.

  The Doctor got a concerned look on his face. “You’re not feeling well? Could you describe the symptoms?”

  “I’m…”

  Yu-jin’s voice trailed off.

  I’m Chinese. You need a translator and I want to help you. I don’t want to hide anymore.

  She hung her head.

  “Ms. Song. I’m a physician. You can tell me anything.”

  Yu-jin looked at him briefly, tears filling her eyes, and then she looked back at the floor again.

  I’m ashamed to say it. Afraid too, but that’s not what’s stopping me. I’m ashamed. All those words, all those insults, I’ve taken them to heart. At some level I’m ashamed to be what I am.

  Self-loathing washed over her.

  Father, Mother, I’ve failed you. Failed you and all my family.

  “Ms. Song, there is something called the Hippocratic Oath. I’m bound by it. I am not allowed to reveal a patient’s medical condition to anyone.”

  “I don’t have a medical condition,” Yu-jin mumbled.

  “You’re not sick?” The Doctor asked. She shook her head. “Would this…did something happen? I could have you talk to one of my female assistants if that would make you more comfortable. And remember Sheriff Cruz is very vigilant in apprehending…”

  Yu-jin shook her head again.

  What, you think I was raped? I guess I was. Raped of my identity. But that’s not illegal, is it?

  The Doctor knelt in front of her so he could meet her eye. He looked different than how she’d seen him before. He wasn’t being the charismatic leader or the professional physician; he was being the concerned elder. He reminded her a bit of her father, stern and kind in equal measure, the sternness and kindness both products of a deep caring.

  Yu-jin wiped her eyes and sat up straight.

  No, that wasn
’t enough. She stood.

  The Doctor rose to face her. She looked him in the eye from barely two feet away.

  “I’m Chinese,” she said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Holy. Shit.

  Do I call the guards? Is she an assassin sent by the ship to kill me?

  The guards will have taken any weapons, but what if she’s some Kung-Fu master? She could break me in half before the guards get through the door.

  Rationality broke through his initial panic.

  If she wanted to kill me she would have skipped the sob story and gone straight for my throat.

  The Doctor took a deep breath. She was still staring at him, a tearful, defiant stare.

  What’s with her attitude? Does she think I’m a racist or something?

  He realized she was waiting for him to speak.

  “So…Chinese, eh? But you grew up here, yes?”

  “My ancestors came here in the nineteenth century to build the railroad. We’ve lived here ever since.”

  The Doctor let out a breath of relief. “Oh, so you’re not really Chinese then.”

  Her glare almost made him call the guards again.

  “Yes. I. Am.”

  He paused, thinking over his next words carefully. As he did, he edged towards the door. Just in case. “Did you know the ship was coming? Is that why you came so late in the season, so you could meet it?”

  Yu-jin shook her head. “No, I was just as surprised as everyone else. I went down to the beach and saw you trying to talk with them.”

  A sudden hope leapt up in him. “Wait! Can you speak to them?”

  “That’s why I came here. You need an interpreter. I heard them talking among themselves. They want to trade, but when your guards almost shot them they thought you were being paranoid. Now they’re unsure what to do.”

  The Doctor thought of their second attempt at communication that morning. Only the interpreter and a few sailors had come ashore, not the officer. That African used his broken English and kept talking about what sounded like trade terms, but no one was sure and no one wanted to risk trusting him. The conversation had broken down into frustrated silence and the newcomers had returned to their ship.

  “So why do you want to help?” The Doctor asked, trying to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

  “I’m trying to stop World War Four.”

  “Well, there is that. But what else do you want?”

  Yu-jin wiped her eyes. “We making a deal then?”

  Like I have a fucking choice?

  “Looks like we are. But I have some more questions first. First off, how can you know Chinese if you grew up here?”

  “Mandarin, actually. There are several Chinese languages. Good thing they weren’t Cantonese or I wouldn’t be able to speak to them. My parents taught me.”

  “And they’re…”

  Yu-jin looked like she was about to cry again. She sat heavily on the examination table. “My whole family spoke it. I was the youngest, at least the youngest to make it to adulthood. My grandparents lived in Southaven, one of the last of the city-states.”

  The Doctor nodded, feeling a tug of nostalgia. “I remember it. We set up a clinic there when I was still an intern.”

  We. Me and Lucas.

  Yu-jin went on. “Chinese people could live there. It was one of the only places that would still take us if you could prove your ancestors had been born in one of the old Republics. Conditions were bad, of course, but we could live. Then there was a coup and that general, I can’t remember his name…”

  “General Paulson,” he said. The name tasted like ash.

  Yu-jin frowned, “Yeah, General Paulson. He took over and almost got kicked out by a popular rebellion. He needed public support so we became scapegoats.”

  An old sadness rose up within him.

  You weren’t the only scapegoats.

  “There was a big riot and a bunch of us got killed. The rest were kicked out with only the clothes on their backs. My grandparents were just teenagers then. They lit out into the countryside and survived as best they could. My family have been scavengers ever since.”

  “And you’ve never told anyone you’re Chinese?”

  Yu-jin shook her head. “How could I?”

  There followed a long silence. At last Yu-jin broke it. “So I’ll be your interpreter. As long as you’re not planning to attack them or betray them, I’ll help you. In trade I want enough flour to get me and my boyfriend through the winter, and I want something else.”

  The Doctor studied her. She was no longer the trembling, weeping patient of a few minutes before, so shaken he had assumed she had been the victim of a crime.

  “What’s that?”

  She looked him in the eye.

  “I want you declare full equality for any Chinese born on this continent.”

  The Doctor felt offended. “Everyone is equal in New City and the Burbs. We established that right from the beginning. We founded New City to get away from the mistakes of the past.”

  “Then why is ‘Chink’ not considered hate speech?”

  The Doctor paused. “Well, because hate speech has to be used on someone, and we never knew there were Chinese among us. Wait, are there more of you?”

  Yu-jin said nothing. Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

  He let out a long, slow breath. This was going to be a bad day.

  “How many of them are there?”

  “How many of us are there? I’m not sure. We hide.”

  “But you know of others.”

  More silence.

  “Ms. Song, I really think I should know this.”

  Yu-jin shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. It’s their decision if they want to come out.”

  The Doctor winced. Come out.

  “So do we have a deal?” the scavenger asked.

  The Doctor spread his hands. Did he really have a choice?

  “We have a deal.”

  They shook hands. Hers was cold and slick with sweat. He looked into her eyes and saw she was terrified. He felt a sudden urge to grab her tight and comfort her.

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he blurted out.

  Yu-jin tried to make a cocky smile. “I can take care of myself.”

  Oh, I’ve heard that one before. A long, long time ago.

  Soldiers storming through a peaceful protest…a battered body left in a ditch…a sign on his door…climbing over the city wall in the dead of night…

  “Are you all right?”

  Yu-jin’s voice came through his thoughts, sounding a million miles away.

  He found he was leaning against the examination table. Yu-jin had a hand on his shoulder.

  “You looked like you were about to faint. Do you need to sit down?” she asked.

  Buck up. Do the job. They need you.

  He stood up straight, set his jaw. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just tired, and not as young as I used to be. When you missed the battle with the Righteous Horde you also missed seeing me get shot and catch influenza on the same day. Now that you’re on the team they’ll start whispering to you about it like a bunch of old hens. Clyde’s the worst with Marcus a close second. They think I’ll keel over any minute, but that’s not going to happen. I’m feeling better every day, and I don’t have time to sit down. Let me call in a few people and we’re going to plan strategy.”

  With that he strode to the door and summoned the guard. Doing something always made him feel better. It was only after he sent for the others that he realized the full significance of his actions. For years he had assumed all the Chinese were dead, and now he had taken one into his inner circle. It was a move born of necessity, and also a gut reaction. Yu-jin could be trusted. He knew it. He didn’t worry about how he knew it because his gut had never betrayed him before.

  His gut also told him that this wouldn’t sit well with everyone else in his little corner of civilization.

  Half an hour later they sat around a table in The
Doctor’s personal quarters. He didn’t like inviting people into the only spot of privacy he had, but he didn’t dare hold this meeting anywhere else. Clyde and Marcus were there, as well as Annette. She was a last-minute addition he didn’t really want. He had to admit, though, that he needed her. She said the Burbs were a flashpoint and despite all her faults she wasn’t prone to hysteria like Clyde. The appearance of the ship followed by the appearance of a Chinese woman at his side might just be the match to set off the kerosene.

  He sat at the head of the table with Yu-jin fidgeting in the seat to his right. To his left sat Marcus spouting banalities about her boyfriend, who was some sort of artist or something. Annette sat quietly, studying each person in turn and looking at the scavenger with open curiosity.

  Clyde studied Yu-jin with a quite different look—one of growing suspicion.

  He’s guessed it. Clyde knows she wouldn’t be here unless she had some key information, and it’s not much of a leap to figure out she’s Chinese.

  He noticed Clyde hadn’t taken off his sidearm. He felt something cold and unpleasant squirm in his gut.

  The Doctor sat back in his chair and took a deep breath before speaking.

  “The situation with the ship has changed. I’d like you to meet Song Yu-jin. We were having problems communicating before. Luckily, Ms. Song knows how to speak Chinese. So we’re—”

  “And how does she know that?” Clyde interrupted, not taking his gaze off the scavenger.

  Fucking hell, Clyde, are you going to make me say it?

  “Well, she knows how to speak Chinese because she is Chinese.”

  Clyde had his hands on the table. His right hand moved back a few inches, as if to go for his gun, and then stopped. He probably didn’t even know he was doing it.

  The Doctor took a quick glance at the other two. Marcus looked shocked, while Annette seemed wary but not terribly surprised.

  Perhaps in her scavenger days she came across bands of Chinese like the Song family? I’ll have to ask her about that.

  He hurried to continue. “Yu-jin is not from the ship. She’s a scavenger. I remember her from last year, as does Marcus. She’s not a spy, and certainly not an assassin. She had me alone in the medical office and could have killed me easily.”