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All it got me was a barked shin on some old, rusting farm equipment unseen in the dark.

The first thing I notice is a dim light off to the left of where we came in. I looked around a little bit more to see if there was activity anywhere else but the rest of the interior appeared dark and quiet. She had gone on ahead toward that dim light and I followed. As I got close I saw that there were a couple of other "people" there. Both appeared to be men. One was lying on his back and one was sitting on the floor with his back against some old, rotting hay bails. The one on the floor had a growing pool of fluid of some sort seeping out from under him. His eyes were closed. The one sitting was holding his right arm tightly across his midsection with his left hand and seemed to be struggling to stay conscious.

I looked back at the girl and said,

"What the heck did you do to these guys? Did they get fresh with you kid?"

She either didn't understand or was in no mood for humor. She just looked at me with that pleading look.

"What happened?" I asked her.

She looked at me for a few seconds and then said one word. "Hulp?"

"Yeah. Help is right." I said. I put the back of my hand to the face of the guy on the floor. Cold. I felt around his neck for a pulse. Nothing. I peeled back one eyelid. Pupil fully dilated.

"I think this one is dead." I said, and looked at her for a reaction. Just that pleading, help me look. Now I'm trying to think if I touched anything that would leave fingerprints around. I do have a finger print record on file with a couple of different agencies.

I unconsciously scrubbed my finger tips on my pant leg and moved over to the guy sitting on the floor. He looked at the girl and said something that sounded like "coker-chee ?" She just looked at him. In retrospect, now that I think back on it, he was probably saying.

"This is the best you could do? Or maybe more like "This is it?"

Sorry pal. I'm your best bet. At least for right now.

I touched his right arm and he grimaced. I touched his shoulder and he gasped and pulled away. His arm was hanging down, limp and a bit twisted. He had a pretty nasty bruise above his right eye that was beginning to swell to the point of closing his eye.

He was looking past me to the girl and something seemed to pass between them then. I turned to look at her and she had started for a doorway in the far wall opposite from where we came in. In for a penny, in for a dollar, I was thinking. I followed her across the barn and out into the field.

Learn more about this author, Tsing Tao.
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