The Foo Sheng Key (2013), page 25
Feng leaned in close to him, one hand holding onto the door handle. "It is a long way down," He shouted into Shelby’s ear. "There is nothing down there but rocks. If you fall, no one will ever find you. The birds will pick at your eyes and feast on your flesh and the wild dogs will gnaw on your bones."
Feng grabbed him by the shirtfront and pulled him closer to the open door. The ground swayed tantalisingly a thousand feet below them.
"Take a good look, Mister Shelby. If you end up down there no one will give a damn. A tourist who goes off into the wilderness of Tibet without a guide is asking for trouble. Every year a few are lost and never seen again." Feng leaned in close again. "Now, Professor, where is he going?"
Shelby looked into Feng’s face. "Go to hell."
The helicopter hit an air pocket and the aircraft dropped violently. Shelby pitched forward. The chance was slim but he took it anyway. He head butted Feng, hard in the face. Feng staggered losing his grip on the door handle and Shelby pushed forward, crowding him closer to the open doorway. All it needed was a last push and they would both be out, on their way down to the rocks below. He didn’t care, it would be some slim payback for Su Li. He lunged forward, a last thrust, but a tug on his arm dragged him back. Feng was tottering precariously in the doorway, his eyes unfocused. A guard reached out and grabbed him and the moment was gone.
The guard slid the door closed, shutting out some of the clatter. Feng stood still swaying, looking at Shelby. “I knew you were a dangerous man, from the first moment I saw you.” Suddenly, his fist shot out at Shelby’s unprotected face. Shelby tried to duck but the fist caught him directly in the mouth and instantly he tasted blood. The guards stopped him from falling and pushed him back into his seat.
Feng sat down in the seat opposite holding a handkerchief to a wound in his forehead. He looked across at Shelby. “It’s clear that you don’t care if you live or die, so dangling you out of a helicopter will do little good. But that is not the only method we have of making a man talk. And I can assure you Mister Shelby, you will talk, and you will tell me everything.”
Xigaze Province, Tibet Autonomous Region
It was a small police station in a tiny village, well off the beaten track, manned by two men from the Public Security Bureau. Their normal everyday excitement usually involved breaking up a dispute over someone’s pig. But today was different. Sergeant Ling had heard about the Colonel from the P.A.P, and what had happened to the Captain from the garrison. Not that it was a problem to him. He hoped the Captain was currently roasting in hell. He was the reason he was stuck in this shit hole on the backside of the world. Until recently he had been a member of the much more prestigious People’s Armed Police. That was until a small incident involving the Captain’s wife. He had been shipped out to this dung heap, and busted into the P.S.B. Even the pig farmers had no respect for the P.S.B. But his attention was not on any of these matters. He was particularly unhappy about the Colonel’s attention falling on him.
His fingers were trembling as he dialled the number. The phone rang at the other end, and kept on ringing. The sergeant cursed under his breath - bastards, they never answered the bloody phone. The ringing persisted and he was about to hang up when suddenly a voice barked an answer at the other end.
“This is Sergeant Ling, get me Captain Chung, urgently.”
Ling listened to the babble on the other end. “Get me the Captain now, or I will personally tell the Colonel why I could not pass on my news to him.”
The threat seemed to work, the line went silent for while then clicked a few times and Captain Chung came on the line.
“Captain, the boy has been sighted. Yes, I have two men and a woman, here. They say they spotted him on the road a couple of miles from here, about two hours ago. He was on horseback and he is with a Khampa tribesman. They can be trouble.”
The voice on the other end of the line interrupted him.
“Yes, sir. They were spotted in the foothills just south of here.”
The high pitched voice in his ear sounded just a little stressed.
“Yes, Sir. I will,” he said when Captain Chung finally paused for breath.
“Ask him.” The woman crowded in to him. “Ask him about the reward.”
The sergeant gave the woman a look of contempt, but she was not giving up. “You ask him. This boy important, there will be big reward.”
Ling gave a resigned shrug, after all, if there was to be a reward then he should get his share. “The woman wants to know if there will be a reward.”
Ling listened patiently to the Captain on the other end of the phone. He had a lot to say.
“Yes, Captain.” Ling put down the phone, finally glad his superior had finished.
“So, will we get the reward?” The woman demanded indignantly.
Ling’s face broke into a wicked smile. “Woman, what you are going to get, is a personal visit from Colonel Feng, from the People’s Armed Police. And believe me, you are going to wish you had never heard his name.”
The woman pulled an ugly face and started to protest.
Ling looked across at his colleague standing by the door. “Put them in the cells, until the Colonel gets here.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Mountains, Tibet Autonomous Region
They had been climbing steadily for the past couple of hours, following a series of undulations that were gradually working their way upwards towards the peaks in the distance. Lhakpa paused as he reached the top of a small rise. Jai stopped beside him and looked out over a flat bottomed valley. On the far side, cutting into the mountain was a narrow gorge, flowing out from it and down the valley was a river.
“There it is.” Lhakpa pointed. “We have to follow the river up the mountain.”
They worked their way down, then across the valley floor to the far side. Lhakpa found a track that followed the side of the gorge, moving steadily upwards. He brought Champa to a halt and Jai stopped beside him.
He pointed into the distance, high above them, to where a misty cloud hung between the two sides of the rock. “In an hour it will be dark. If we can make it up there by then, we should be safe. We can rest when we get there.” He gave Champa a nudge and the horse began the upward climb.
The track ran close to the edge of the gorge and Jai could look down to the bubbling, foaming, water below. After a while it veered steadily away, rising to the brow of a hill. Jai pulled gently on Samba’s reins and the horse stopped as they reached the top. In the distance he could hear the low roar and rumble of a waterfall. Lhakpa had also paused to take in the scene. He had a strange look on his face, his head cocked at an angle. Beneath him, Champa stood stock still, her ears pricked to sharp points. Then Jai heard it, a rumble in the distance, but deeper than the roar of the falls, and echoing from behind them, from the valley below. He looked back the way they had come. He stared out into the distance, straining his eyes for anything out there. Suddenly his eyes caught a movement, moving fast, very fast, through the trees. Then another, and another.
"Devils chariots." Lhakpa finally spoke. "I have seen them pursue my brothers across the plains of Kham. They are relentless, nothing stops them."
Jai’s young eyes were well tuned to the distance and he could now see a number of vehicles, strange looking contraptions, like a motorcycle but with four wheels. Jai had seen them before on a DVD that Jongba had brought to the Gompa. He had watched them with his brothers. They were called quad bikes. They had looked like fun. Now as they roared across the valley towards them, they didn't look like fun at all.
Lhakpa took off first, urging Champa down the track between the trees. Samba took off at a gallop behind them. The fold of the hill behind them temporarily blocked off the sound of their pursuers. Samba was gasping and snorting, her breath condensing like great plumes of smoke. Jai clung to her back as she galloped for all she was worth through the trees. The track flattened out then started to rise again towards the brow of the next hill in front of them,
“We have to reach the trees.” Lhakpa yelled.
The rumble of the waterfall grew as the track moved closer to the edge of the gorge. Up ahead, Jai could see the line of trees. Lhakpa was right, reaching them was their only hope.
The roar of engines once more burst through the natural sounds of the afternoon. Jai quickly glanced behind him. Two quad bikes appeared at the top of the track they had vacated only minutes before. He had a clear view of them now, each was a strange contraption. In the saddle was the driver, but behind him was a small platform, with a passenger, sitting higher and in front of some kind of mounted gun.
He dug his heels into Samba withers driving her forward. Suddenly, the roar in front of them increased, becoming a loud metallic clatter, and there ahead, rising into view, commanding the whole track, was a huge, green, bug-eyed monster.
Lhakpa raised his hand and pulled Champa to a halt. Jai and Samba skidded to a halt beside them. Lhakpa looked calmly across at Jai. He reached across and squeezed his arm.
"There are times to fight, and times to run away. And other times to wait for the right moment to take your chance. For now we wait."
Jai looked up towards the helicopter hanging there just in front of them, so close he felt he could almost reach out and touch it. It seemed to sit there, just watching them. He could clearly see the pilot through the front screen, an anonymous figure, wearing a helmet with a darkened sun visor. Sitting beside the pilot, a person was studying them through binoculars. The man removed the binoculars and Jai could see his face clearly. Recognition clicked instantly in his brain. He had seen him many times at Yangji Gompa - Colonel Feng.
The pitch of the engine suddenly changed, the nose of the helicopter dipped forward and its guns opened up with a clatter. Jai saw their bright flashes before he heard any sound. Then a crazy unseen force tore wildly up the track towards them.
"No," Lhakpa cried out and urged Champa forward blocking himself and his horse between the crazy trail of death and Jai. At the same time he leaned across and slapped Samba hard on the nose. Samba reacted immediately, pulling back and away and heading off towards the trees at a wild gallop.
Jai twisted around in the saddle, straining to look back. Lhakpa and Champa were still blocking the track. Lhakpa pulling hard on Champa’s reins trying to avoid the trail of deadly bullets racing up towards them. Champa’s muscles rippled as she made the ultimate effort and urged herself into flight. Jai watched helpless as the deadly trail pursued them, then tore into them, ripping and tearing, bursting from their bodies in bright red splashes. Champa’s front legs buckled, she pitched forward as if in slow motion. But the deadly frenzy kept on going. Lhakpa let go of the reins, his arms stretched out wide, his mouth open in a defiant roar, as the bullets ripped into his body, each one physically punching him back before he followed Champa down into the dirt. Jai screamed, an inhuman sound, but it only served to urge on the already terrified Samba. His last view of Lhakpa and Champa was their now still bodies lying on the ground.
They broke out of the trees, twigs and branches tearing at his face. Samba swung back towards the cliff edge, Jai scrambling wildly to stay on her back, yanking on the reins and clinging on like crazy. The clamour of the helicopter swept over them and swung around, heading back towards them, all guns blazing.
Jai tugged hard on the reins, trying desperately to guide the horse away from the edge of the gorge and back into the trees. The screaming helicopter swept in low, so low that the downdraft from its swirling blades blasted down on them. Samba shied violently, veering wildly to her right. The terrified horse’s hooves skidded on the loose shale close to the edge. Suddenly time stopped, the ground disappeared and they were both falling, as if in slow motion. Below them was nothing but an impenetrable white mist and a growing roar.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Xigaze Province, Tibet Autonomous Region
"Disappeared, what do you mean he has disappeared?" Colonel Feng screamed at Captain Chung.
Night had already fallen and they were standing beside a large flaming campfire in a clearing close to where the boy had last been seen.
"I want to see his body?"
"Sir, he fell from a cliff into the river, his body was swept away. We have been searching the river and all along the banks. All we found was his horse."
"If his horse could survive, so could he. Listen to me Captain, and listen to me very carefully. I want every foot of that river dragged. If he is in there, I want his body. If he is not in the river then he is walking about somewhere. I want every possible place that he could have got to, searched. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Colonel, Sir."
Feng stood with his hands on his hips. "That boy is dead when I tell you he is dead. And that will be when he is lying in front of me. And I cut his throat myself."
"Yes, sir." The young captain stamped his boots as he came to attention.
Feng glared at Chung, who was now past fear and was just waiting for Feng to dispatch him with a bullet.
"Leave,” he screamed. “And do not come back until you have something positive to tell me."
Feng turned back to the fire as the man rushed away. He knew his anger was as much with himself as with the idiot Chung. He had seen the boy, standing unprotected before them, so close. He had screamed at the pilot to open fire. He could not believe in those few seconds how the boy had managed to evade them.
If he had somehow survived the fall from the cliff, he was out there on his own. Feng looked out towards the darkness. Out there was nothing but snow covered mountains. No shelter, no warming fire. He would be dead by morning.
Zimbu River, Tibet Autonomous Region
Jai was floating. Somewhere below him a deep rumble seem determined to tug him awake. A dull pain thumped constantly deep inside his head. He opened his eyes but could see nothing. Fear clutched at his throat. This was it, this was the Bardo, a place where all the sins of his life would be shown before him. He wondered if anyone would know of his passing and say the prayers to help him on his passage, or would he, like always, make this journey alone.
Something was digging into his neck. He lifted a hand, he could see it vaguely in the darkness. He felt his hand brush his face. He had a body, still. He was confused, should he not be only a spirit now. He moved his hand to his neck, there was indeed something sticking into him. It felt like the branch of a tree. Suddenly he was aware of the rest of his body and he could feel it resting on something, something hard, with ridges. He was resting in the branches of a tree.
Something stirred up in the heavens. The vague outline of the moon, wrapped in cloud, now leaked enough light for him to see. He slowly lifted his head. He could see his legs and his feet. The tree appeared to be growing out of a cliff face. He was alive.
He turned his head as far as he could and tried to look down. There was nothing but blackness but he could hear a deep rumbling somewhere below. He tried turning his head further, peering deeper into the gloom. Suddenly the branch below him moved. His body slipped. He scrambled in the darkness, his fingers clutching for something, anything to hold onto. He managed to stop himself from sliding, for the moment. He was alive, and he was about to die.
He could see the cliff face, a body's length away from his feet. He took a firm grip on the branches beneath him and pushed himself up into a sitting position, except there was nothing beneath his backside but a dark drop into hell. He was supporting all of his weight on his arms, slowly he edged his way forward, hand by hand, his knees bending as he moved inch by inch towards his feet. Suddenly his left foot slipped, quickly followed by the other and he was dangling in the darkness, only his stiff arms preventing him from taking the dark plunge.
He took a breath and steadied himself. He could see his destination tantalisingly close, the point where the branches divided. He inched his way forward again, the branches bouncing as he moved his weight from hand to hand. He was certain that at any moment a branch would break, or the tree would be ripped out of the cliff face. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and concentrated on moving that last foot. Eventually he was close enough to lean his upper body forward and pulled up a knee, lodging it into the V between the branches. A bolt of electricity seared up through his leg, the limb shot out straight below him, leaving him bouncing in space with his left knee throbbing painfully. He held on tight to the branches, both arms rigid. He remembered the bang he had taken on that knee, a lifetime ago, on the cliff back at Dorje Gompa.
He took a deep breath and tried again, this time with the other knee. It was still painful, as the knots and lumps of the tree branch dug into his flesh, but he gritted his teeth and edged his way forward on to the main branch. As he moved closer to the cliff face, he could see a narrow ledge running at the level of the tree. He eased his way forward and eventually stood up on the ledge. He looked below but could see nothing beyond the branches of the tree. He turned his head upwards, gripping with his fingers for all he was worth on the bare rock. He could see nothing but darkness and the cliff face, which he was unsure he could climb even in broad daylight.
For the first time he realised he was cold. A wind had begun gently tugging at his clothes, running its ice cold fingers across his face. His legs began to shake. He knew he had to move or wait for his knees to give and darkness would finish what the tree had only briefly delayed. Perhaps if he moved along the ledge, he could find some shelter. He knew he could not stay here.
His head was looking to his right as he clutched the rock wall, so he decided that way was as good as any. He moved his right arm, groping for a handhold in the darkness, but his hand found nothing. He reached further around the fold in the rock, but again there was nothing. He edged his way forward and peered into the gloom. There was a narrow opening in the rock face, higher than he was tall and hopefully wide enough for him to fit. If he could shelter out of the wind, maybe in the morning, maybe . . .
