Volume 2: Secret Burial in the Canyon, Chapter 95: I've Seen a Ghost

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That thin bamboo pole lifted the lid of the box, and then both of them held a spoon each, scooping up something from the wooden crate. Each brought out a full spoonful of something white and flaky, and ate with relish.

So the parcel I had delivered turned out to be some kind of food. What could be so good that I had been made to deliver it overnight?

I grew increasingly curious. At this angle, with the box level with the table, I still could not see what was inside.

The more mysterious it seemed, the more I wanted to know what it was that could make those two men eat with such greed.

I looked around, quietly rolled my electric scooter closer, straddled it, and slowly stood up, looking down into the room from above.

This time the angle was perfect, and with the light shining directly over the box, I could see inside clearly.

As soon as I understood what it was, I could not keep myself on the bike at all. My legs went weak, I let out a cry, and tumbled off the scooter.

It was no food in that crate at all. What stared back at me was a human head.

The top of it had been opened like a lid, that lid lying on the floor to one side, with clumps of hair still stuck to it.

And those two men with their spoons were inserting them through the opening and into the head. Were they scooping out the dead man’s brain?

After I fell, I didn’t care about the pain anymore. I doubled over and vomited a few times on the ground.

I had seen this method of eating monkey brain online before. At the time I found it cruel, and I never imagined I would see someone eating human brain today. Worse, that head had been in the package I delivered with my own hands.

I had just gagged out a few mouthfuls when I heard hurried footsteps from inside the room.

Damn. I scrambled to my feet. I had seen them eat a corpse; that dead head was likely tied to them somehow. They would surely kill me to shut me up.

I sprang onto the scooter and gunned it. The bike shot forward.

I heard a door slam behind me, and in the rearview mirror I saw both men burst out, running at me like wild beasts.

I pressed the throttle hard, but this rickety scooter could get me moving, not escaping. It couldn’t gather real speed.

I reached halfway down the lane when they closed in. I jumped off and ran toward the street opening with everything I had.

The two stayed close behind. At the end of the lane, the streetlights outside were much brighter than in there. If I could reach the main road, I might be safer.

But while I was running, a figure suddenly flashed ahead of me. I nearly collided.

By the corner of my eye, I recognized him: it was the same one who had been eating brain with the thin bamboo pole.

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I was shocked. How had he gotten in front of me? I had no time to think, because with a cold, sinister smile he blocked my way.

My heart lurched, and I drew the fruit knife I kept with me.

Without stopping my steps, using momentum and sheer will, I bit back my panic and stabbed.

Maybe it was my fierce will to survive, maybe because the man didn’t expect I’d use a knife. My thrust was lightning-fast, and it went straight into his chest in one stroke.

He glanced down at the wound, then up at me, and slowly sank to the ground.

I pulled the knife out, and my mind buzzed: I had killed him?

I froze. How could this have happened? I had not meant to kill him...

Just then a hand suddenly came down on my shoulder. I instinctively twisted and stabbed again.

Behind me stood the thin bamboo pole. The blade entered his chest too.

At that moment, engine noise roared in from the street. A Santana sedan streaked toward us, slewing in a clean drift right at the corner.

I saw Third Uncle waving at me, shouting, “Get in.”

I didn’t have time to sheath the knife. I ran a few panicked steps, opened the door, and jumped in. Third Uncle floored the accelerator; the car leapt forward.

It slammed me hard against the back seat.

After we had gone some distance, I looked back and saw the thin bamboo pole at the corner, still waving at us.

By then my mind was in total disarray. I couldn’t remember the details anymore; I only knew I had killed someone. My hand kept shaking.

Third Uncle drove like mad, rushing back toward the office.

When I got off, I blurted, “Third... Third Uncle, I... I think I stabbed someone.”

He waved me off. “Don’t panic. My dear nephew, you never listen to me. Go back to the office first. I’ll go and see how that man is. If there’s any news, call.”

With that he drove off toward Changqing Street.

I went back to the office and sat down, still in shock, cold sweat rising again and again.

I kept hoping he would call. He didn’t.

And I had no courage to call him either.

So I held on until dawn like that. Third Uncle still hadn’t come back.

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The employees drifted in gradually. Since it was still before start time, they were gathered in small groups, chatting idly.

I saw Chen Tao waving a newspaper, saying, “You hear this? Yesterday, right at the intersection in front of our company, there was a horrible accident. A mother was crossing with her daughter when a jeep ran them over. They say both died on the spot...”

Others began to comment, and while they talked, something felt terribly wrong.

I hurriedly pulled Chen Tao over.

“Chen, is this really an accident?” I asked quietly.

Seeing my reaction, Chen Tao handed me the paper. “Look for yourself. It’s the morning paper I bought.”

I opened it quickly. It was the city’s morning edition, and there was a prominent report: Mother and Daughter Killed in Traffic Accident, Suspected Driver Flees.

A photo was printed with it. Out of consideration for the victims, both faces were blurred, but I could clearly see the pool of blood beneath them. The woman’s position was exactly the same as what I had seen the night before. The little girl in the photo was there as well.

At once I recognized the girl’s clothes. It was the same little girl who had spoken to me last night.

My thoughts went blank. I fumbled out my phone and looked at the photos I had taken. I had taken them in case the two were trying to stage a hit earlier that night.

In my own photos, under the warm yellow streetlight, there was only a bare stretch of road. Not a hint of either a man or a woman.

My hand began to shake so badly I couldn’t say a word.

Chen Tao saw me and asked, puzzled, “Li Yang, what happened to you?”

I dropped the newspaper and sat down. Sweats came in waves, layer after layer. So that was it—I had seen a ghost last night.

Chen Tao asked me a few things, but my mind was numb; I heard nothing he said.

End of chapter.

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