37°50'49.1"N 98°48'24.0"E – Outskirts of Lóngmén, Tianjun County

  25.05.2024 – 07.30 UTC +08.00

  The ones that were already past the point of intoxication were not afraid, neither to wield nor meet blades. They rushed with a smile, sliding the umbrella’s sharp ends into their friends’ abdomens. They even ran straight into the blades heading toward them, gutting themselves deeper than they needed to end their lives. Still smiling, their sanity had quit their bodies once the red concoction they had imbibed took over.

  Fang screamed like an animal, running headfirst into one of the musicians, holding a ceremonial sword.

  “No…” I tried to say, my voice abandoning. I looked away. There was no point; I had to run.

  I jumped off the stage, panic taking over me. The moment I landed near the crowd, I realized my mistake. Maniacal laughter drowned most of the screams, and rageful eyes met mine.

  I saw multiple men stabbing a woman who hysterically screamed for more.

  I tried to run the other direction and fell on my back. My limbs froze, and I knew if I lay there on the ground for long enough, I would die the same horrible death.

  I heard barking. Little Guy: he was also somewhere in this mess, understanding even less than I did. I had to help him.

  “Gài!” I shouted, and he barked back, dispelling the fear.

  As I tried to stand up, I noticed two teenagers, a boy and a girl, running to me. Covered in blood and holding a dagger each. I grabbed dirt as I stood up and tossed it in their eyes. They shrieked, and then in a fit of childlike laughter, turned to each other.

  I looked away and started running.

  The ones that were already past the point of intoxication were dangerous, yes. But they did not scare me as much as the ones that had not consumed enough to lose their mind. I saw them scurrying around, trying to find more of the red liquid to drink, picking up glasses from everywhere, and licking leftovers. Men begging for time, as their eyes twitched, still not ready to succumb to murderous madness, but so clearly hoping they would, before they were forced to endure their fate sane. Couples forcing each other to drink as they screamed, parents forcibly pouring the red drug into their crying children’s mouths.

  The already-mad had no logic in their actions. I would easily dodge their blades, and then they would kill each other instead, as intended.

  The still-sane were terrifying.

  “Why? Why? Why am I not going mad?” A woman screamed, running to me. Her eyes were turning red, her clothes were splattered with blood. In her left hand, she held an umbrella upside down, its bloody edge covered with remnants of guts. She came close and raised her right arm to beg me to hear her. “You are also not mad! Why is it not working? He said I would, he said to kill him.”

  “I don’t…” I said.

  “I did, but I am still here, and I see it everywhere! Why?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Dawo is dead. I gutted him as he begged, but I am still here!”

  Every word turned her pitch higher. And then Little Guy appeared between us, his huge body tensed, revealing the true threat hidden in his heavy breed.

  He barked at her, and as he did, the woman started screaming back at the dog: “Why?”. With every bark, yelling back at the dog louder herself, she dropped her umbrella dagger and started pulling her hair.

  “Gài, we run now!” I said and sprinted to the outskirts of the village, the dog on my tail. We had to go back to Fang’s house and get my things as quickly as possible, before any mad survivors spread out.

  With Little Guy on my side, I confidently burst through Fang’s house. I rushed through it, grabbing my stuff and as much food as I could throw into my bag.

  “God forgive me,” I said as I threw anything valuable as well into my backpack. I recalled Xiulan’s illusioned smile and Fang running into a sword. None of them would need anything here.

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  Little Guy barked again. The commotion outside turned louder instead of quieter. Was there a chance people could get even more mad? Wouldn’t they all kill each other soon?

  “I know!”

  Little Guy insisted.

  “What?” The dog barked and jumped towards Xiulan’s room, to its closed door.

  “Go away!” I heard a voice from the room. I froze. Was there someone else in this house? I thought they were a couple. “Go away!” the voice said louder behind the door, trying to scare the dog.

  It sounded like a young boy’s voice.

  “Fuck,” I said and rushed there. “Kid are you alright?”

  The boy screamed. Perhaps it thought I was also mad.

  I tried to open the door; it was locked.

  “Kid we have to run! Open the door!” I shouted.

  “Mum said to keep it locked!”

  Was it their kid? Did Xiulan want to spare her son and lock him inside? Would that plan work? And why hadn’t I seen the kid the previous night?

  I leaned back, trying to see through the corridor and the open entrance in the house. The commotion was turning louder, accompanied by additional screaming and sober begging. The mad who had survived so far were going door to door, breaking down houses, killing anyone they could find. People who had not participated in the celebration.

  I banged on the door.

  “Kid, listen, they are coming for you! Open and we run away together!”

  I banged and banged, while Little Guy ran to the entrance and back, barking and warning me. He knew we had to leave, but there was no chance I was going to abandon a sane kid into this fate.

  “Kid! Trust me, and you live! Stay and you die!” I shouted.

  I heard the door unlock before I could even finish my sentence. A short boy, in his early teen years, ran through my legs and sprinted, a small bag on his back.

  “Wait kid!”

  Little Guy and I ran behind the boy, who ran past the corridor, the kitchen, and jumped out the entrance stairs, running as fast as he could. I ran behind him.

  A group of three, two women and a man, all covered in blood and their clothes torn, jumped behind the fence of the house. One of the women laughed so badly her lips seemed torn. The boy jumped back and fell on the ground, but I bull-rushed and pushed the laughing woman into the others.

  “Run!” I shouted to the boy to shake off his fear, still lying down, startled. Little Guy ran next to the boy, using its snout to push it up.

  The laughing woman got ripped apart by the two others, stabbing her everywhere they could find bare flesh. She did not fight back, but then they turned to us, once there was nothing left to stab.

  I ran to the boy and Little Guy, and I did not dare waste a moment to look back. I picked up the boy and ran.

  ? ? ?

  “I think now it is okay,” I said. Despite the cold, I was drenched in sweat.

  The boy sat in the middle of the road, not able to even think about going to the side. I also doubted any cars would pass by this highway, at least not coming from the north. Still, I grabbed him and pulled him to the side of the road, on the muddy ground. Little Guy sat next to the boy, and I sat across.

  I opened my backpack, and I found pieces of cookies I had thrown in during my looting of Fang’s house.

  “Here,” I said, giving it to the boy. The boy grabbed the cookie and examined it. He looked like he was thinking about it, looking next to him, and then devoured it. I noticed his expression looked like Fang’s when he was thinking. The boy’s hair was short and dark, contrasting with longer and silver, but there was an unmistakable similarity. Even the way he munched on the cookie looked similar to the way the man ate seeds last night. When he told me, they were prepared. I shuddered.

  Little Guy woofed. I tossed him a cookie as well.

  “What’s your name?” I asked. The boy looked at the ground, stretching his legs, ignoring me. “Boy?”

  “Míngxuān,” he said.

  “Qīngjiāng. You can just call me Jiang,” I said.

  “Ming.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ming. How old are you?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Were you at your parents’ house?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “Grandparents? Is Fang your grandad?” I asked.

  The boy nodded. Okay, that solved it then. He was Xiulan’s and Fang’s grandchild.

  “What about your mother?”

  The boy looked at me. “I have no mum.”

  I tilted my head. I remembered very vividly that the boy had said his mum had told him to keep the door locked. Before I could ask more, the boy lay sleepy on Little Guy, who ruffed happily.

  I wanted to ask more questions, but I was afraid that Ming would also ask me what happened to his village. I wanted to ask more questions, but I was afraid that Ming would also ask me what happened to his village. And I wish, if he asked, I would tell him it made no sense.

  But maybe it did, knowing what was coming.