Work Text
It was a hot, dry day in old Apache country. The heat lay thick on the car, like a blanket. Everything felt slow and sluggish, despite the fact that Song Lan was driving fast. Something felt wrong, as it often did in this vast colony. The resentful energy hummed through everything, and coated the back of his throat like tar. Xiao Xingchen could not wait to leave.
He turned to look at Song Lan, who was driving the old Honda CRV like he’d done little else all his life.
Xiao Xingchen once again marvelled at how quickly Song Lan had learned the mechanics of this contraption, but he was content to sit beside Song Lan and feel the breeze on his face, not that it was helping truly helping. There was no air conditioning, but since Xiao Xingchen did not know of such things, he did not miss its absence. He was absently scanning the unchanging horizon again when his keen eyes spotted something.
“Zichen,” he said, “I think I see something there.
Song Lan said, “En,” which Xiao Xingchen took to mean that Song Lan heard him, couldn’t see whatever Xiao Xingchen could, but trusted his eyes.
Xiao Xingchen said, “Zichen, I think it’s a man.”
As they approached the figure, they saw he was holding a small briefcase and was wearing a knee-length tan jacket.
Song Lan pulled up to the side of the road.
“You folks headed to the City?” the Man In The Tan Jacket asked Song Lan.
Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Lan who shrugged. “I suppose,” said Xiao Xingchen.
The Man said, “You mind if I hitch a ride?”
“Not at all,” said Xiao Xingchen, and the man climbed into the backseat. Xiao Xingchen saw that on the ground, he’d left a slightly dusty cardboard sign with the words KING CITY scratched on in grey pencil. The word KING had been circled many times, but then crossed out heavily. Xiao Xingchen felt Song Lan notice this detail, and he couldn’t help but smile a little. It always pleased him when he fell into sync with Song Lan. Xiao Xingchen chuckled at himself, then hastily tried to cover it up with a sneeze, and failed. Song Lan looked into the side mirror as he pulled back onto the road, to disguise his smile.
“Your man there doesn’t say much, does he?” remarked the Man in the Tan Jacket.
Xiao Xingchen jumped a little. The Man in the Tan Jacket made so little sound.
Xiao Xingchen said, “Well, I speak enough for the both of us. We like it that way.”
The Man with the Tan Jacket held up his hands. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. Didn’t mean to be rude. Just making conversation. I’m Evan, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Evan. I’m Xiao Xingchen. This is Song Lan.”
Song Lan raised his eyes to the rear view mirror and nodded briefly. The Man nodded back, “Hey.”
They drove a way down the road, which seemed to bend and buck in the heat.
Xiao Xingchen, who had been curious for a while, asked, “Isn’t it a little hot to be wearing such a long jacket?”
“Yes,” said the man, pleasantly, “Yes, it is.”
“I see,” said Xiao Xingchen, who didn’t. Then he looked confused, and said, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even ask your name earlier.”
The Man in the Tan Jacket smiled, a little sadly. “No worries,” he said. “My name is Everett.”
“Everett,” said Xiao Xingchen, trying the word out on his tongue. It seemed wrong somehow, but he just assumed it was the same wrongness that pulsed in this odd land, under the surface, always just out of the corner of his eye.
The Man in the Tan Jacket smiled again, the same odd, wistful smile.
“Oh!” said Xiao Xingchen, “I’m also sorry you have to carry that suitcase across your lap like that. The back door of this cart doesn’t work.”
“You mean the car? Like the trunk?” said the Man In the Tan Jacket.
“Sure,” said Xiao Xingchen, who was not sure at all.
“Oh! No worries,” said the Man in the Tan Jacket, for the second time that day. “It’s deerskin. It’s very precious to me, so I would prefer to have it with me anyway.”
Xiao Xingchen could understand that.
Song Lan, driving carefully, said nothing, but he narrowed his eyes. Xiao Xingchen wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but decided to ask him later, once they were alone.
They drove on for a few more minutes. The road was so straight. Only the desert scrublands under the blue, blue sky as far as the eye could see - and Xiao Xingchen’s eyes could see farther than most.
The sun was so hot. Xiao Xingchen felt himself falling asleep. Xiao Xingchen felt himself falling asleep. Xiao Xingchen felt himself–
He jolted awake. What was wrong with him? He glanced at Song Lan who was still driving stoically, but a crease had formed between his brows. He glanced in the rearview mirror, but The Man in the Tan Jacket appeared to be fast asleep on the backseat.
Song Lan said to Xiao Xingchen in a low voice, “We should have reached the city by now.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “We should have reached the city hours ago.”
Xiao Xingchen whispered back at Song Lan, “Resentment?”
Song Lan nodded grimly.
When he reached between them to adjust the gearstick, Xiao Xingchen touched his hand, and touched his meridians. Fine, but a little sluggish, as if fighting off resentful energy attacks. Xiao Xingchen’s eyes grew wide. He looked at Song Lan, whose face showed that he had sensed the same thing in Xiao Xingchen.
They both looked in the mirror at the Man in the Tan Jacket. He looked straight back at them.
Xiao Xingchen gasped. The Man’s face was unreadable.
“I’m so sorry, er–” began Xiao Xingchen.
“Emmett,” the Man with the Tan Jacket supplied helpfully.
“Emmett,” continued Xiao Xingchen. “My partner and I appear to be lost. Or rather, we can’t find the city.”
The Man with the Tan Jacket did not seem to be surprised at this, and accepted this news with an air of weary resignation.
“It’s alright. You can let me out at the next gas station.”
Xiao Xingchen was about to say that he hadn’t seen anything else on this road for miles and miles, and he didn’t think that was likely to change, when he looked again at the horizon. What he had thought was a trick of the heat was resolving itself into the size and shape of several buildings.
Xiao Xingchen said, “Are you sure?”
The Man smiled wanly. “I’m sure.”
Song Lan pulled up at the side of the road. The Man with the Tan Jacket got out with his deerskin suitcase.
Xiao Xingchen asked, “Are you sure there’s nothing else Zichen and I could do for you? Let us buy you some water at least. Don’t you feel faint in this heat?”
He knew now there was something deeply wrong with the Man in the Tan Jacket, but he could not help but feel sorry for him, somehow.
The Man in the Tan Jacket said, rather grimly, “Water would not help my situation.”
Xiao Xingchen, sensing there was nothing else he could do, only nodded as he turned to get back into the car. He paused suddenly.
“I’m sorry,” said Xiao Xingchen. “I seem to have forgotten your name.”
“No need to apologise,” the Man in the Tan Jacket said, over his shoulder. “My name is Elizabeth.”