“Mama, I don’t think you’ve ever taken me up here,” Sunny shouts.
“Well, of course not,” Juanli says, chuckling to herself. “This is no man’s land.”
Sunny presses his face against the window of the small black van, utterly fascinated by the wasted scenery outside. The midday light lends it an ethereal quality, as if the small motorcade was weaving through the land of the dead.
The group was relieved to find three cars parked outside the front door of the facility. After dividing themselves among the cars, they began steadily driving back towards civilization.
Sitting in the passenger’s seat with the window down, Monk closes his eyes and lets the wind wash over his face.
“Places like this,” Monk adds, nodding his head out the window. “I think everyone should see them at some point in their life. Just as a reminder of how precious this life is, and how much we stand to lose.”
Juanli briefly glances at Monk from behind the wheel but quickly returns her gaze to the road like a safe driver.
“So…are you going to take back your name and try to bring about peace?”
“I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t,” Monk explains, “I think I’ve had my fair share of the spotlight though. Still, it couldn’t hurt to head back to the States and call up some old friends…particularly that loony president.”
“I suppose it’s good that you’re trying to use your status for good again.”
“I do regret the choices I made, but in some ways, they made me a better man,” Monk explains, “After all, I’ve seen Chinese people suffering first-hand for four years, and if that’s taught me one thing, it’s that this war isn’t about borders or governments or cultures—it’s about humanity. Maybe I’d be the best at explaining that.”
“I think you can do it, Mr. Monk,” Sunny shouts from the back seat. “And if you do, you’ll be a real hero!”
“Thanks, son,” Monk says.
He pulls his hat low, perhaps to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks.
Juanli smiles and glances into the rear-view mirror.
“Sunny, are you strapped in back there?”
“Ummm…yeah, Mama, I am!”
“Don’t lie to me, Sunny! I can see you stretched out across the back seat!”
“G-Gah! Uhh…sorry, Mama! I just thought, using the Morpho-whatever Field, I’d tell myself if there was something dangerous coming up!”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
Sunny quickly straightens up and buckles himself in. Hearing the click, Juanli tries her best not to chuckle, but Monk makes no effort at all. He leans toward the window, guffawing loudly with no sign of stopping.
———————
“We need to turn right here,” Suyin says, glancing at a map.
“I know this territory better than you,” Mao replies, “I assure you, we have to turn left.”
“Mao, I’m the one with the map. Can’t you just
listen to me for once?”
“I’ll listen if you have something worth saying!”
While the couple continues arguing in the front, Fujisaki and Amandi sit quietly in the back. Fujisaki stares out the window, contemplating the lush grassland outside. They begin to see other cars on the road.
“How long do you think it will take?” Fujisaki asks.
“To bring Isuzu back?” Amandi replies, “Probably a few months, I’m afraid. It will be hard to put together all the funds and materials I need, especially with the war going on.”
“I know these things take time,” Fujisaki replies, “But ever since that vote, I’ve felt empty. It’s maddening.”
“That’s perfectly natural,” Amandi replies, “You are missing something that used to be a part of you.”
Amandi takes out the green flash drive and holds it in front of him.
“Perhaps this way… I can make things right.”
Suddenly, the car swerves right as Suyin grabs the wheel. Mao fights with her, causing the car to continue straight ahead, plowing through an old wooden sign post.
“Damn it!” Fujisaki shouts, “Watch where you’re going! We only have one flash drive!”
The other two cars in the motorcade slow down as they watch Mao’s car careen wildly through the grassland.
———————
After a long drive, the group returns to Beijing and finds the city in a state of disarray. Driving past the buildings, it’s clear that the city is still recovering from the American bombing.
Of course, the traffic is still atrocious.
Mei sits in the driver’s seat, pounding her fingers on the wheel. Taikong sits next to her, with Amethyst and Qi in the back seat. The bandaged woman hasn’t moved for most of the ride, as if embroiled in deep meditation or simply dead.
“All of this…and we still have to go back to the battlefield,” Taikong grumbles.
“Do you?” Amethyst asks, “I mean, I’m not an expert on the law, but running a death game’s gotta have some consequences, right?”
“You’d be surprised at what they can get away with not discharging you for,” Mei replies.
“Ideally, the two of you would receive some form of rehabilitation,” Qi adds, her head jerking toward the others. “Amethyst, I believe, may not be allowed back on the force, as long as she continues to go by Amethyst.”
“And I’m not going by any other name again,” Amethyst says, “If this game taught me anything, it’s that.”
“Perhaps I could try to convince Mao to get you out of the conflict,” Qi adds, “Due to his beliefs, he would not be against it…though I’m not sure how much longer he will have his position.”
“That would be kind of you, X…err, Qi,” Taikong replies, “As long as I’m with Mei, everything should be fine.”
“I believe everyone deserves a second chance.”
The car ahead of Mei stops again. The street fills with the blare of car horns.
“Oh, fuck this,” Mei says, “I need to get out of here.”
Mei parks the car in the middle of the road and gets out, stepping onto the sidewalk. The other players exchange a glance and then decide she probably has the right idea.
Behind them, Mao climbs out of his car, which is now missing a side-view mirror. Qi hangs back as the former soldiers walk down the sidewalk together.
“Where are they going?” Mao shouts.
“Back to their lives, I assume,” Fujisaki explains, “I can’t exactly blame them.”
A nearby reporter covering the bombing spots Mao out of the corner of his eye.
“You, you’re the general who disappeared in the bombing, right?” The reporter asks, rushing over with the microphone. “What happened to you? Who are these people?”
“It’s a very long story, and I won’t be taking questions at this time,” Mao answers, “I need some time to rest.”
Stepping out of the car, Amandi walks over to the reporter.
“You’re an American journalist, right?” he asks.
“Yes, I am. Why?”
“I have something you might be interested to hear about that general,” Amandi explains, “It’s all here on this flash drive.”
“What?” Mao shouts, “What did you find on that thing?”
“I’d be careful of what you say,” Amandi replies, “Remember, the cameras are watching.”
Mao feels the entire world’s gaze start to leer down on him.
“Take it from a tactician, Mao,” Qi adds, “Sometimes the only way to win is to put your weapon down.”