The March of the Dragons

by Andrew McAuley

  He snapped more photos of the base. The smoke rising above the city in the distance. A few shots of bodies, craters and discarded possessions. Deciding he had enough he trudged back toward the APC. Nancy was probably not enjoying being cooped up in the back of the vehicle alone. Lieutenant Zhang stepped into his path.

  'Had enough of the stench?'

  'Yes. Something like that.' Irritated by the man's sketchiness, he made to move around him. Zhang took hold of his arm.

  'You know something, Mr Campbell?' Zhang said in a conspiratorial hush. 'Examining some of the Vietnamese dead, I counted three killed by concussion from explosives. Two with no discernible injury, and nine who died by a single round to the back of the head.'

  It took a few seconds for him to understand the Lieutenant's point.

  'I see.' he struggled for something else to say. Uncomfortable under the Lieutenant's unflinchingly scrutiny. 'Well... Not very 'Geneva convention' is it?'

  'Someone recently told me that we are very far from Geneva.'

  Tired of the game, Tim leant close to him. 'Why are you telling me this?' he hissed.

  The Lieutenant blinked. He remained unemotional. Unreadable as always. Deciding he wasn't going to get an answer, Tim pulled his arm free of the officer's grip.

  'Mr Campbell, as a civilian maybe it is hard for you to understand. I'm a patriot, but also honourable man. My father was honourable. It is rare enough these days.'

  'What the hell's that got to do with me?'

  'One day the truth of what happened here in Vietnam will be known. I cannot protest atrocities to my superiors. They may thank me for bringing it to their attention as they carefully sweep it under the carpet.'

  Tim shrugged.

  'My family name has been tarnished for too long in China. I want you to write my story.'

  Thuỳ

  24th March, 11:00

  Thuỳ sat cross-legged on the floor of Lâm's workshop with her face in her palms. She couldn’t look at the others. Nobody spoke much. There wasn't much to say. Minh was dead. She failed to save him. They even had to leave his body on the floor of the temple.

  ‘You ok?’ Lâm knelt beside her.

  It was the second time he’d asked since they got back. She could only nod. He patted her shoulder.

  ‘There was nothing you could do to help him,’ he said.

  If that were true, Tuấn should've said so, but he didn't. She’d been useless. Everyone knew it. She kept quiet. Hoping they wouldn't bother her.

  'Screw it!' Tuấn snarled.

  It sounded like he kicked something. She'd heard it a half dozen times already. Each curse burned like he was scolding her directly. When she joined the resistance she’d said 'if anyone gets hurt, I can act as a nurse. I'm medically trained!' She wasn't sure those were her exact words, but she'd promised a level of medical support which she was unable to deliver.

  Her thoughts went to her family. They'd be worried about her. She'd thought of them a great deal since agreeing to remain full time with the Cell. She hadn't had a chance to leave them a note or anything.

  'We've all made a sacrifice,' Minh had told her.

  For boys it was easier. Parents didn't expect so much of them. There was no safe way to get a message to her family. No way for them to know if she was alive or dead. Tuấn had promised she could visit or get a message through soon. That was days ago. It hadn't been mentioned since.

  She'd failed the resistance, failed Minh, and failed her family. What would her parents do when she returned? Would her father shave her head and cast her out into the street? Her family were strict. Traditional. But shaming the daughter like that was something parents didn't do anymore. It was just used it as a threat to make girls behave. Wasn't it?

  'You should eat something,' Lâm's gentle voice interrupted her daydream. He was cooking she realised. Despite her hunger she hadn't even noticed the scent.

  She raised her head. Cautiously peering through her messy curtain of hair. Lâm squatted over the small gas hob. He stirred a pot. It smelled like instant noodles. The discarded blue packet by his feet confirmed it. Lately they almost always ate instant noodles. Real food ran out days ago. She wasn’t sure she could keep food down anyway.

  Tuấn stood near the entrance, with one forearm and his forehead leaning against the wall. His foot scuffed the ground. Dac sat with his knees tucked up under his chin. He looked apprehensive. He knew something bad had happened.

  Lâm offered her a small steaming bowl and pair of plastic chopsticks. She accepted them with a murmur of thanks. She never liked instant noodles. Dac wasted no time tucking into his bowl; slurping noisily while casting nervous glances at the grown-ups.

  Lâm approached Tuấn with the meagre offering of hot food. Tuấn stared at it and after a pause took the bowl. Muttering thanks, he set the bowl down on a nearby shelf before returning to his stressed posture against the wall.

  The hot bowl started to burn her hand. She looked at the food. With rations so low it would be a crime to waste. Slowly she picked at it. Careful not to make any sound. She had only just sucked up the first noodle when Dac’s empty bowl was deposited on the floor with a clatter. Lâm sucked noisily on his noodles. Neither of them drew Tuấn's ire, but they weren't responsible for Minh's death.

  She looked at the four bikes parked beside the wall. It seemed the easiest thing in the world to just get on her moped and drive home, where everything would somehow be normal. Her mother would be preparing dinner; slicing cucumber to go with the salad they would eat. Her father would be talking on the phone about business or politics. Although he was only a waiter at a restaurant there was always some venture he was starting up; importing clothes, selling pirate DVD's. Once he planned to open a restaurant with mom as chef. None of his plans saw fruition, but he was hardworking, honest and looked after his family. He wouldn't have let Minh die.

  'I want to go home!' The words erupted from her before she was even conscious of them.

  Everyone was watching her. Nobody spoke. Lâm looked to their leader; seeming to endorse her request.

  'We need you here.' Tuấn turned back to the wall.

  It wasn't fair. She didn’t fit in. She'd known it almost since the start. The boys knew it too. She'd helped murder for their cause, and would live with the memory of a boy from her class dying because she was too inexperienced to save him. Wasn't that enough? She was no good at fighting. What did they want from her?

  'I can’t...' She struggled to finish the sentence. The bowl slipped from her fingers. She fumbled to save it, but the noodles slopped onto the floor.

  Lâm regarded her with the corners of his mouth downturned. He tipped his bowl toward her to show it was empty- not that she would've taken food from him. Warm liquid from the spillage seeped through her fingers. There was no tissue or cloth so she rubbed her fingers on her trouser leg.

  'Give her mine,' Tuấn said. Without looking he offered the bowl to Lâm.

  'No! I don't want it!' She insisted. Tears brimming from her eyelids clouded her vision. She wiped them away with her sleeve.

  'Take it. You need strength,’ Tuấn said.

  'No. You don't understand!' Her raised voice trembled; drawing even Tuấn’s gaze. She stood, shaking. 'I'm not made for this. I'm not brave or strong, and maybe I am stupid. But I'm not stupid enough to pretend I can do this anymore!'

  They watched her with sombre expressions. Even little Dac. Did she seem a petulant little girl to them?

  Tuấn sighed. 'What happened isn't anyone's fault but mine,' he looked at the floor as he spoke, his voice distorted. She wondered if he might cry too. 'I... should've...'

  Lâm walked to him. Standing close, he put his arm around Tuấn. His chin rested on Tuấn's shoulder. She could hear him whispering but couldn't make out the words.

  Tuấn's gaze turned to her. He mumbled something. His shoulders slumped. Both boys turned to look at her. She couldn't read their expressions. Maybe she shouldn't have spoken. Maybe she sh
ould've just waited for a chance to sneak off.

  'Okay... Gather around. We need a meeting.' Tuấn said. He put his hand on the back of one of the small plastic chairs; gesturing for her to sit. The chairs were still arranged in a semi-circle; just as they had been the night before.

  Reluctant, she shuffled forward. Her will zapped. She flopped into the nearest chair. Lâm sat beside her. Tuấn moved the remaining chair opposite them.

  'You too, Dac.' Tuấn called out.

  Dac had scooped the spilt noodles back into the bowl and was picking the grit from them. He scooted across the floor to sit cross legged between the two boys. He held out the bowl to her; his innocent eyes wide and full of sympathy. Her throat became sore as tears materialised again. The boy became a blur; like she was looking at him from underwater. Even little Dac was stronger than she was. She shouldn't be a cry-baby.

  Tuấn removed his glasses. Folding them he tapped them gently against his palm.

  'We'll miss Minh. He is... was a good friend. An essential member of the cell. If we stop now he'll have died in vain.'

  Lâm nodded. Dac blinked.

  'I'm going to meet with... uh, my superior… Get instructions, and we'll get back into it.'

  'Try the radio?' Lâm suggested.

  'Uh...yeah, sure.'

  It was surprisingly easy to tune into Radio Free Hanoi. The 'Rose of Hanoi' was broadcasting as she often was. Did she never rest?

  '...and the counterattack at Hao Binh was fought off by our brave forces. The hero of the day was Private Nguyễn Cường Huy who armed with a rocket launcher destroyed two tanks...'

  'How are we doing for ammunition?' Tuấn said, disregarding news of fighting far to the north.

  'Not good. Half a magazine on the rifle. Four clips on the pistols with a few extra rounds. Six-shooter’s empty.'

  Thuỳ made an effort to eat the noodles. They were already cold but it felt good to eat something. Eating was normal. Not a lot of normal things happened lately.

  'Thuỳ?'

  On hearing her name, she paused, holding strand of noodles an inch from her lips. Tuấn's attention had turned to her.

  'You did good last night. Neither of us could’ve done what you did. Some wounds just can't be healed.'

  'I failed.'

  'You're not a Doctor. When we join with the regular forces we'll have the use of their medics. I think it can't be long now.'

  Thuỳ lowered the chopsticks to the bowl. 'I meant what I said. I can't do this. The shooting... I'm no good at it. I'm not much use as a medic either. We have hardly any medical supplies left. I used a lot of the gauze and bandages on… last night.' She couldn't bring herself to say Minh's name. Not yet.

  Tuấn opened his mouth to speak, but the mention of their city on radio caught their attention.

  'In Thanh Pho Ho Chi Minh, brave forces destroyed enemy bases and penetrated almost to the heart of the city. Chinese aggression forces in a cowardly move bombed Phu Nhuan and neighbouring districts- blocking the advance and causing horrendous casualties among the brave population which rose in support of our soldiers.'

  Tuấn stroked his chin. Lâm sat back in his chair watching him; giving Dac a sharp look when catching the boy picking his nose.

  'Brave residents of Ho Chi Minh; continue to resist the Chinese aggressors. Your salvation is at hand. We prepare for the final push! Back in the north, an unknown hero in Hai Phong destroyed a Chinese patrol boat by -'

  Tuấn turned the volume down so that the Rose of Hanoi's voice was barely audible.

  'Well. I guess we're our own again.'

  'Do you think our forces were utterly defeated?' Lâm said.

  Tuấn let out a long exhalation. 'I don't know. It can’t be that bad.'

  Lâm wrinkled his nose. 'Chinese air power and artillery are too powerful. Maybe our guys went to ground again.'

  'I'll find out… See what my contact says.'

  'Is it safe to travel?' Lâm said, sounding doubtful.

  'There were hardly any Chinese last night until near the river. They're preoccupied and spread out. Since daybreak I’ve heard at least three motorbikes outside. People are moving. I think it is safe as it can be.'

  'Provided you don't look suspicious,' Lâm said.

  Tuấn turned back to Thuỳ. His eyes widened as if he had just remembered she was there.

  'Is there anything I can do?' she said. Her voice sounded flatter than she expected.

  Tuấn and Lâm exchanged looks. Lâm nodded.

  'No,' Tuấn said softly, allowing a hint of a sad smile. 'Actually, yes.'

  She hugged her arms into her belly and forced herself to not look away from Tuấn’s gaze.

  'Your home is district 8 isn't it?'

  She nodded.

  'District 8 is safe. Away from the main infrastructure of the city. As far as I know it's far from any large scale fighting.'

  Lâm murmured his agreement.

  'I still worry for my family,' she said in almost a whisper. Was he going to allow her to visit home? Was it too much to hope for?

  'Can you take Dac with you?'

  'What?' she gasped.

  Dac screwed his face up in confusion at the question.

  'Take the boy and go,' Tuấn said. His sad smile returned.

  'And stay there,' Lâm finished for him.

  'You mean leave?'

  'We have little ammunition or food. The situation has become increasingly dangerous. We can't guarantee Dac's safety. Besides which; you've had enough. You said so yourself.'

  She sucked her lower lip. She wanted to get out, but now offered the chance she felt the weight of obligation to the cell.

  'Someone needs to look after Dac,' Lâm winked at her. 'He trusts you. This is the best way.'

  Nodding her assent, she struggled to control her trembling. Her nerves were shot. Should she go now? They seemed like they wanted her to leave right away. She could see mama again!

  Lâm stood. Looming over her his arms outstretched. She threw herself into his embrace. With her cheek on his chest she let her emotions run freely. She squeezed the giant as hard as she could. He held her gently as he always did. It was several minutes before she released him. He loved her like a big brother should; he’d convinced Tuấn to let her go, sending both the fragile ones he cared about to safety.

  'I'll never forget you, brother!' She sobbed.

  'Me neither, sister.'

  She hugged Tuấn briefly. Lâm ruffled Dac's hair.

  Within minutes she was driving her old moped out of the workshop with Dac sat behind. His thin arms around her waist. Lâm waved as she accelerated away. The road was empty. She could be home inside fifteen minutes if she drove fast.

  The buckle from the helmet strap bit into the skin under her jaw, but the wind felt good in her face. A motorbike passed from the opposite direction carrying a young couple. They frowned at her as they passed by. She realised then that she was grinning. She couldn’t stop it if she tried.

  ' Thuỳ?' Dac said.

  'Yes?'

  'Are you going to be my mother now?'

  She searched for an adequate reply. She cleared her throat. 'Yes... sure I am, Dac. I'll be your mother.'

  Phượng

  24th March, 11:50

  She awoke to daylight. Laid out fully clothed upon a mattress on the floor of a bare room. A clock- the sole decoration, showed it to be almost midday. A sour taste clung to her tongue. She felt groggy. It took a few seconds to remember where she was. Recollection struck her with an almost physical force.

  Remembering the story of the survivor of the attack on the police station. She didn’t want to believe it. He’d returned in a bedraggled state some three hours after they set out. A terribly thin man with wild eyes. He stuttered as he spoke.

  She had accused him of fleeing and making up the story to cover his cowardice, yet even as she cursed him she knew he spoke the truth. The hospital guard wrestled with her. Physically restraining her while the medic
sedated her. She’d slept for more than twelve hours.

  Despite the ringing in her ears she heard someone in another room groaning. Would the guard let her leave? Opening the door a crack she looked down the corridor; it looked clear to the stairwell, but there were several doors ajar along the corridor.

  She headed for the stairs. Avoiding temptation to glance in any of the rooms she passed. If anyone tried to stop her she would fight them. Descending the steps, she marched right up to the front door and was out in the street without any resistance.

  The city looked as empty as it had been since the first days of the invasion. Where was the victory parade? Or the smoking husks of enemy tanks? She walked in the direction of the police station. She hadn’t gone far when she saw the first signs of life. The Vietnamese hadn't won a great victory. Enemy vehicles still patrolled the district.

  Her hearing still hadn’t fully returned; sounds were distorted like she was underwater. She felt as ethereal as a ghost. The enemy ignored her just as she ignored them. They weren’t even on the same plane of existence. There was no reason to fear them. Could they even see her?

  She found her way to the police station. There was no way anyone could have survived. The station and the buildings either side of it were reduced to rubble. She ambled aimlessly through the once bustling streets; twice tripping on uneven paving slabs. She slumped in a doorway. Resting her head in the nook between wall and door. The dizziness felt worse when she closed her eyes. Was it the medic’s sedative or disorientation from the explosion? She hadn't felt so bad the night before. Her mind ran through the night's events again and again.

  She decided to walk to Huy and Dũng's place. If they somehow escaped they might go there. Forcing herself to stand she moved on. Occasionally someone passed by rushing about their business. They didn’t make eye contact. It was strange to see civilians on the street during daytime again. Perhaps they were ghosts. She found herself outside Huy’s apartment block, unaware of the passage of time. Had she been walking for minutes. Hours. Days?