The survivor

Ninety-Nine

Shen Sun watched the gwailo’s hopeless expression with a sense of euphoria. He was exhausted; his shoulder seared with pain. And there was no chance of him escaping this situation alive.

None of that mattered.

All that existed in the moment was the terror of the girls before him, and the heavenly desperation of the cop ahead. And he laughed out loud, for he could not help himself. All his life he had strived to be 14K — to be with Shan Chu, the King Daddy himself, the Dragon Head — and before the mission had started, he had been promised a swift trip back to Macau if things at St Patrick’s High had gone well.

But things had not gone well. The whole mission had been disastrous. All because of Detective Jacob Striker. Shen Sun had been forced to improvise. To alter the plan. It had been the only way to keep his dream alive. The only way to reach the place he called home.

And to find the Perfect Harmony.

How odd it was. Here at the end of his life — for that was surely what this was — he had found it. And unexpectedly so. Not in a place, or an object, or even through some achievement. No, he had found it through a state of mind. And that was what it was, wasn’t it? The Perfect Harmony. Finding whatever it was that you were missing inside, that one lost piece that would make a man truly whole. Well, he had found it. At long last, he had found it.

And it was power.

‘This isn’t necessary,’ the cop said.

‘Make choice, Gwailo.’

‘We can find another way.’

‘ Make choice, I say.’

To Shen Sun’s lower left, Riku Kwan let out a sob. He pressed his foot down harder on her ankle, making certain she remained seated. Not that she would attempt escape. He had made it quite clear: any attempt to escape would result in a quick death for both of the girls.

‘Shen Sun,’ Striker said. ‘I’ll do anything-’

‘Choose!’

To Shen Sun’s right, Courtney squirmed. He clutched the hood of her Little Red Riding Hood costume, twisting his fingers deep into the material. She let out a cry as his fingernails dug into her back, but he held her tight.

‘I won’t make that choice,’ the cop finally said.

The words hit Shen Sun like the end of a whip. And for the first time since the gwailo had set foot into the headlights, he felt his euphoria seeping away. The pain in his shoulder became sharper, the throbbing of his head more violent. His body was sweating and shivering, and the weakness of his legs had returned, keeping him off-balance.

‘You will not…’ he began. Then Shen Sun Soone felt the world fading on him. He looked up at the cop, standing in the circular glare of the fog-veiled headlights, and suddenly he could see him for what he was — for what he had always known Jacob Striker to be — ever since their first encounter back at the school.

An evil spirit in human form. An earthbound demon.

It made no difference.

‘Make choice!’ he demanded for the last time.

And the cop did.

He reached down, drew his pistol, and ran forward. And just like the evil spirit he was, he fell out of the light into the darkness, and vanished from sight.