by Mike Morris
He attacked again, first with the blade, and followed in with the device. She blocked high with her forearm, jabbed back with her elbow. She stamped down on his foot, and struck two rapid blows to his stomach. Mek hit mek, neither showing any weakness.
They locked blades, sliding together until their fists touched and their noses brushed against each other. The blades strained against each other's just below their chins. She could feel his breath on her cheek.
She held the wrist of his other hand as he tried to press the device against her skin. "All over, little sister," he grunted as the device neared her neck.
Ziyi dropped her sword. The sudden lack of resistance threw Rui off balance. His blade sliced into her neck but she pulled the device away from her skin. With her free hand, she plunged her finger deep into Rui's eye.
He had time for one gasp of surprise before he died.
"For the Emperor. For the Empire." Ziyi staggered back, clutching the cut on her neck. It was too deep for her mek to handle. Blood poured through her fingers as she applied pressure to the wound. Her other hand fumbled at the pouches on her belt. She needed the filler. She gulped air, already feeling weak. She found ammo clips in the first pouch, dropped those. She sank to one knee as she opened the next pouch.
The tube was in the third one. Her fingers fumbled with the lid as more precious blood ran down her neck. Rui's corpse watched her with its one eye, watched her drop the tube. She wheezed as air failed to fill her lungs.
She fell backwards. Blackness filled her vision. At least she'd avenged Xiao and ruined Deng's plans. There was still Xiao's sister to take his place. The Empire would endure. She could hear A Swallow's Dream play somewhere in the distance. It seemed apt music to die to. Almost a good death. Her eyes fluttered. Almost.
30
Wing
The Norinco Standard Assault Rifle fired ninety rounds a second. Its magazine contained one hundred and fifty rounds in a dual-chambered clip. A lot of bullets will kill a man very quickly when the weapon is fired in full automatic mode. Wing found out though it wasn't enough.
It didn't help that he didn't aim the weapon when he fired. He just sprayed the room as he came out of cover, screaming his drug-induced rage. Five rounds hit Lok across his upper torso but all were surface wounds. A lot of blood and some discomfort, but none of the rounds pierced his mek.
Wing shredded furniture and destroyed ornaments as he switched targets from Lok to Deng. One bullet clipped the First Minister's shoulder, spinning him around, before Wing herd the sickening sound of the hammer falling on an empty chamber. In his mind's eye, he saw the extra mags still on the dead guard's belt, lying by the elevator door. You fucking idiot, he chided himself as Lok raced towards him. The bodyguard swatted the rifle from his hands without breaking stride, grabbed Wing by the throat and threw Wing into a mirror hanging on the far wall.
Wing crumpled to the floor with his hands covering his head as shards of glass rained down with him. Feeling no pain, he jumped back onto his feet, fuelled by MTC, just in time for Lok to ram a fist into his gut. Doubling over, he puked over Lok's boots. Another blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling.
The bastard wasn't going to get the better of him again. Wing flipped over onto his back and aimed a kick at Lok's crotch. The bodyguard twisted his leg to block it easily before dropping his knee into Wing's chest. He screamed in rage. He wrapped his arms around Lok's leg and buried his teeth into the calf. The tang of blood filled his mouth, but at least for once, it wasn't his blood. Lok hollered and shook his leg, trying to dislodge Wing, but he held on like a rabid dog. Another punch to the back of his head knocked him loose and Lok smashed a fist into his chest for good measure. Bones shattered but Wing didn't fucking care. He'd taken enough shit off the bastard already.
He ignored the punches raining down on him, ignored the sound that told him that Lok had twisted his arm out of its socket. Let the fucker have it. With his good hand, he went for the pistol on his hip.
Lok lifted him off the floor once more, screaming pain and death into his face. Wing just laughed. Laughed with the sheer bloody madness of it all. He rammed the pistol into Lok's groin and pulled the trigger. The man might be all fucking mek everywhere else, but Wing was willing to bet his life he’d left that untouched.
Lok dropped him, hands clamped to his groin, desperately failing to stop the blood pumping out. It was the funniest thing Wing had ever seen. He wobbled to his feet, left arm dangling, crippled and broken, leaking enough blood of his own to be a concern on any other day but then. "Ha ha, you fucker. Think you're so fucking special. Well I got you. I got you good and fucking proper. Should have killed me when you had the chance." He spat blood and phlegm over Lok, enjoying the burning hatred on the man's face even through the pain. He gave him a kick for good measure. Why the hell not? The bastard deserved everything he got.
He rammed the pistol into Lok's mouth, blew him a kiss and then blew him away. "Goodbye, you motherfucker."
Wing pivoted around, checking the room. Deng sat slumped against one wall, bleeding a little of his own, not going anywhere. Wing didn't care about him though. Song was all that mattered. She lay behind one of the sofas, her shirt full of blossoming flowers of blood. He cradled her head in his lap, and stroked her face.
"Hey," said Song.
"Hey you," said Wing. "How you feeling?"
"Hopefully not as bad as you look," she replied. She coughed and more red stained her skin. She tried a smile. "I think I'm dying."
"No, you're not. You'll be okay."
"Liar. Just tell me we got them. Tell me."
"Lok's dead. Deng's down, but I've not seen Ziyi yet. Nor Xiao."
"Go find her. Help her." She shivered as the life leaked out of her.
"I'm not leaving you," said Wing, his heart breaking. "You never left me."
Her eyelids fluttered. "Big mistake that was." She coughed again, and for a moment Wing thought he'd lost her. When she opened her eyes again, their focus was lost. Her breath rasped in her chest. "I'm scared, Wing."
He kissed her forehead, skin already cold like marble. "Don't be. You'll be okay. Ziyi'll be here soon. She'll know what to do." He looked up in hope, over to the door, but only darkness waited. He hugged her tighter; trying to keep what life was left in her. "I love you, Song. I love you so much. So very much." It felt good to say the words.
It was a shame Song was too dead to hear them. At least she couldn't see his tears either. He lay her head gently down on the carpet and brushed her eyes closed.
He looked up, found Deng watching him, felt the rage build once more. He staggered over, gun in hand. "Why'd you have to ruin my fucking life?"
Deng coughed. Some blood stained his lips. "You were just in the way. Ziyi was the only one who could've foiled my plans so we needed her gone her. And we needed to remove anyone who could have helped her. It was as simple as that."
"Don't you care about all the deaths you've caused? How many died to feed your ambition?"
Deng smiled blood-stained teeth. "No."
Wing aimed his pistol at Deng. The barrel wavered as the MTC struggled to cope with all his injuries. As cauldron of emotion boiled away inside him, he marvelled at Deng's apparent lack of any. "Song and Ziyi are all worth a hundred of you. A thousand of you. You... you're barely human."
Deng's mouth twitched. "I think you'll find I'm so much more. Life has given you a unique opportunity right now. Help me now -- stop Ziyi, get me to a doctor -- and you'll walk away from all this a hero of the Empire. With more money than you knew what to do with. Fame. Women. Drugs. Whatever you desire will be yours." Deng looked Wing in the eye and held out his hand for Wing to lift him off the floor. "Discover the joys of power and all it can give you."
"Can you bring Song back to me?" asked Wing.
"Help me and you'll barely remember your life from before. Don't be an ant. Be a god."
"Maybe I like being an ant," said Wing and pulled the trigger.
&nb
sp; He slumped down on one of the sofas, sinking into its soft embrace. He gazed down over Hong Kong, from higher than he'd ever been before and yet vertigo-free. After all Death no longer had any sway over him. It had visited enough that night for Wing to know it wasn't his time just yet if he didn't want it to be.
The city looked so beautiful, still beating with life even after the madness of the last few days, unaware of the chaos being weaved above it. It had outlasted several empires over the centuries and he'd no doubt it'd outlast many more.
The warm gun rested on his leg. If he closed his eyes, it was easy to imagine he was at home with a ready slice gun, full of magic smoke to take all his problems away. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and pain nibbled away at the edges of his MTC high. Dislocated shoulder, broken ribs and enough bruises to cover ninety per cent of his body should hurt after all. He could just do without it all.
Wing placed the barrel of the gun in his mouth, tasting the hot metal on his lips, burning the flesh. His finger hooked around the trigger. Make it all go away in an instant. Blissful oblivion. The ultimate high. Just pull the trigger, baby.
By the Heavens, he wanted to. Just end it all. Let Ziyi clear up the mess.
Ziyi. He had to see if she was still alive and had Xiao. It couldn't have all been for nothing. Fuck. Gun in hand, he staggered off the sofa, his body screaming at him to stop, and headed upstairs. Pain accompanied him with every step; the MTC unable to cope with the punishment he'd received.
The door to the bedroom was ajar but there was only silence within. He entered, gun raised but wavering in his good hand. Rui was sprawled on the floor, missing an eye. Ziyi was next to him, blood leaking everywhere, not moving. Both looked equally dead. There was no sign of Xiao.
"Shit."
31
Ziyi
Her hair was dyed blood red, a hacked up bob far from the perfect cut her old life had required. Scars covered her from head to foot. A particularly savage one stretched from one side of her neck to the other. She didn't complain though — they made her unrecognisable.
The room was ten foot by five foot. Enough for a bag, a bed and herself. Mould covered the walls. There was no window. It was too deep within the Zeros to be able to have that luxury.
Propped up in bed, she hit replay on her tablet. She didn't know how many times she'd watched it. Too many. But not enough.
Lin Bai of Channel News Asia looked as grim as the news demanded. The list of the dead rolled behind him. He wasn't talking about the bombings though, either in Hong Kong or America. Instead, all his shock and outrage was focused on the death of Xiao.
"I must warn you that what I'm about to show you is of a very disturbing nature, and anyone of a sensitive nature should turn away," said Lin. "The following footage was released earlier today by the Ministry of Information."
The screen switched to CCTV footage.
Ziyi and Xiao are in bed together. It is clear they've just had sex. She reaches under the pillow and produces a handgun. Xiao laughs until he realises it isn't a joke. His head jerks back as the bullet exits the back of his skull.
The screen returned to Lin. "We are now going live to First Minister Puyi in Beijing for an update."
"I'm pleased to confirm that, acting on information received, our security forces stormed a building in Kowloon earlier today. They found the bodies of the traitor, Choi Ziyi, and her American collaborators. The exact cause of their deaths is still unknown but investigations are on going. Nothing can erase the horrors of the last few days but at least we can be assured that the perpetrators will not escape the justice of the Heavens. We will continue our search for His Imperial Highness' body and will not rest until he is given a fitting burial. Thank you. Remain strong. We will endure. Always for the Emperor. For the Empire."
Lin reappeared. "We will bring you more information as soon as we receive it. For the Emperor. For the Empire."
She turned off the screen and closed her eyes. The images of Xiao's murder played over and over in her mind. Of course it was the impostor, Xi Lin, who'd killed Xiao. It was more than likely the Government knew the truth, but that fact would never be made public. Especially now they had a dead body. However, once DNA tests showed the corpse in Nathan Road wasn't really hers she'd no doubt the hunt for her would resume.
The Empire was reeling from the events of the last few days but no time had been wasted in appointing Puyi as Deng's successor. He'd assumed the role as if he'd been preparing for the role for the whole of his life. She'd no doubt he probably had.
Xiao's sister, Xoichi, was named the Heir but there was speculation the Emperor would try and father another son, despite his age.
Part of her wished that Wing hadn't saved her by sealing her wound with filler. Her failure haunted her. In so many ways, it would've been better if she'd died after she'd killed Rui. The world believed her to be a traitor and a murderer, and that was a stain on her honour she'd never be able to expunge.
However, freed from her duty, her destiny was finally hers to decide, despite how limited her options were. Madame Wu had made Ziyi feel welcome while she recovered from her injuries, but her hospitality wouldn't last forever. Ironically, she was still the most wanted woman on the planet but for very different reasons.
Someone knocked on her door, breaking her from her thoughts.
"Come in," she said, hoping it was Robert. He'd barely left her side since Wing had contacted him after he'd found Ziyi near death in the Residence. Even still, her hand gripped a small knife, hidden under the sheets.
"Hey, it's me." Wing popped his head around the door. His face was still black and blue, and his arm was in a sling.
She smiled. "Hi. It's good to see you, my friend."
She saw his eyes drift to her tablet, disappointed. He hated her watching Xiao's murder. "You still watching that crap?"
"Did you have any luck?" she asked ignoring the question.
"Uh, kinda mixed. Haven't come up with any way to beat the eye tests. Even if we could find someone capable of doing effective retina replacements, we haven't got the money to pay for it, and the bounty on us is so high I wouldn't trust anyone to not give us up the moment they put us under. I tried hacking the database to swap our identities with two normals, but all I managed to do was set off every kind of alarm in the Empire. Nearly got my arse busted by the cops."
"You got away though? No one followed?"
"Yeah, I'm clean. But hacking's out of the question."
"Is there any good news?"
"I've found a way for us to get away."
"And?"
"Fancy going to America?
Acknowledgments
I hope you enjoyed the first adventures of Ziyi and Wing. I’d love to hear your thoughts either by leaving a review on Amazon or on Goodreads. Reviews really help every author.
Visit my website www.mikemorrisauthor.com to find out more about about my books and see behind the scenes. You can also sign up for my mailing list and you’ll be the first to know what’s happening next.
Plus you can follow me on Twitter or Facebook — look for @scifimikemorris.
The list of people who’ve helped me is endless but I’d like to especially thank Mark Stay and Mark Delvaux from The Bestseller Experiment podcast for encouraging me to go put this book out into the world.
Finally to T who will always be Zee.