I stepped out of the grocery store and stepped around the corner as fast as I could. Only then, did I reach into my pocket and pull out the chocolate I had flicked. My other pockets bulged with similar stolen goods. A tin of ham, few more chocolate bars, and a small can of juice.
Lunch.
Hong Kong is great. Freaking awesome place to live, wine, dine and die in. Provided you have the money for it. And since I'd spent most of my cash on the flight ticket here, I had precious little to spare. I needed the cash to come flowing back. Fast.
You could get a job.
I'd been on the streets for almost a week now. Thankfully it was summer, so sleeping in the open was not a problem. Cops were. Hong Kong likes to keep itself clean, you see. Of trash, of pollution and of hobos.
As I was saying, I'm sure you could work as a store clerk, or in some business, or even a prostitute.
And then there was this, a voice in my head. A voice in my head. It wasn't mine, and I didn't know what it was doing or how it got here. I had thought to myself many times (come on, everyone does that) and the voice that replied was nothing like this.
Of course I'm not! That guy was a tool. I'm at least more entertaining company.
By now, I should have become used to it. But that wouldn't happen for another few weeks. His voice still caught me surprise each time. I did my best to suppress it, to ignore it. But then he'd just start pounding on the walls of my subconscious and drive me near insane.
Half mad, homeless and poor. Life didn't look that great right now. And looking back, I'd have done anything to have let it stay that way. The sun set and I looked around for tonight's bed. The problem with parks were that they had guards patrolling. The problem with the pavement was the cops patrolling. Chinky bastards stare at me like I'm a fucking leper, before they bark some incomprehensible shit, which pretty much means, 'Get the fuck outta here."
Finally I made my bed behind a fly-over support pillar. Making a pillow out of my jacket, I lay there, thinking of the irony when I used to drive by this back home in Delhi. Then, I used to look at these beggars without a second thought.
Puts things into perspective, doesn't it?
Fuck off. I need to sleep. I turned around and closed my eyes, ignoring the slight sniggers that came from within my head. My own brain was turning against me, and I didn't know what to do about it.
That's a little extreme, isn't it? I'm not turning against you, I'm only having fun insulting you.
Do you really think I need something like that right now?
Do you really think I'd give you a choice?
I sighed in frustration and kept quiet. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see people heading back to their homes. A few hours ago, the streets were packed. Always packed. People of all kinds and colors running about like ants, each one rushing, each one bustling about. Sometimes I wondered how so small a place could have so many people without them tearing away at each other. But then I remember that no one has the time to think of anyone else, let alone formulate plans of destruction. As long as we're kept busy as the bees, then there's no need to think for ourselves. But now, only a few last-minute couples coming back from dinner, or the nervous buisnessman formulating the excuse to his wife on why he's going to be late.
Of course, I wasn't alone. There were other homeless as well. But they were like chameleons in the night. Hidden in the deep crevasses of Hong Kong's dark alleys, they wandered through the night like prowling spirits. They couldn't speak a word of English, and after the first one I talked to tried raping me, I thought it best to avoid this lovely community altogether.
Sleep, as always, took its sweet time to come, and it was long past midnight before I began to feel a bit drowsy. Letting out a huge yawn, I shuffled around a bit to find a more comfortable position, keeping my eyes closed.
Which is why I only heard the sound of the crash.
The roar of the engine I heard beforehand. Hong Kong is famous for its illegal street racing, something that had evolved into a culture for some of the locals. They were their own rich, elite community, each trying to outdo the other with the better car and the sweeter women. I had heard them many times, almost every night, screaming through the empty roads at over 200 kmph.
This one sounded different. And before I could even figure out why, the sound was replaced with the screeching of tires that grew louder and louder until-
Crash.
My eyes flew open. The accident sounded like it had happened right beside me. I flew to my feet and ran around to the other side of the pillar. And there she lay, the back of the car literally wrapped around another pillar, only some fifteen feet away. I slowly walked forward, hearing the crunching of broken glass from the car under my feet. I nervously smelt for gasoline, but there was no trace of it in the air. I edged closer and closer, now able to clearly make out the car as a Nissan painted bright orange with a single black line of paint running through the body, but what model I was not sure of. One of its lights was still working, and it threw a ghostly light against the underside of the flyover. I could see a few other homeless people running away from the beam, as though not wanting to be detected, to be seen. Cops would soon be here, and they'd impound the car and take away the driver. My eyes soon traveled up the the front of the car, where I could just make him out through the broken windshield.
From the slight movements he made, I could tell he was still alive. A nasty wound bled freely on his head, dying his shoulder-length brown hair with a dark red. His right arm was twisted at the shoulder, I could tell that it was dislocated. One look at him and another at the car, and I knew this guy was in a lotta trouble.
Welcome to the club.
I turned around to walk away. The last think a homeless man needs is another man to look after. But I stopped only a few steps away as I heard him speak.
"Please... H-help..."
I turned around slowly. His eyes were open, but he was dazed, still in shock. His good hand was stretched forward towards me, reaching out, begging for help. I looked around me, all around. I was the only one there.
Are you sure you want to this?
At that moment, I knew I did. Even if it was just to prove something to myself, and more importantly the voice in my head- I have a name, you know- I'd rescue this guy and somehow get him to help.
Like I was saying, I don't really like 'voice in the head'. How about-
I ran forward, coming to a halt by the driver's door. The glass had shattered, and there was a nasty dent in the door. I tried to open it, -Hey! I'm talking to you here- but the damage to the door had disabled the locking mechanism. I kicked at it several times, but with little effect. Once again, I tried pulling on the door handle, -uh... buddy?- but no matter what, it just wouldn't open.
How about seeing if its locked?
I paused, and reached through the broken window, feeling around until I found what I thought was the lock control and-
The door smoothly opened without a fuss.
The voice was silent, but it doesn't take words to know when you're dealing with a smug jackass. I reached inside and unbuckled his seat belt. The airbags inside had already been deployed and had also already deflated, so bringing him out of the car was quite easy. I sat him down so he leaned against the pillar. and then I began to examine him for injuries.
Apart from the wound on his head, and the dislocated shoulder, I could see a huge swelling on his right knee. I knew that couldn't be good, especially since he couldn't walk even a single step on it. But he was alive, if barely. His eyes flickered as he struggled to say conscious. I tried to help him, but I didn't know how.
So I punched his knee.
His eyes flew wide open, shock and pain dancing withing them. His good hand shot forward and caught me by the shoulder, squeezing so tightly that it hurt.
"Easy... easy." I said, taking his good hand and slowly but firmly lifting it off me. "Can you hear me? Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Fuck..." He moaned.
"I'll take that as a yes. Now tell me, where does it hurt? Can you understand what I'm saying?"
He looked me in the eyes for the very first time. "Of course I understand what the hell you're saying you, asshole. And if you punch me like that again, I'll break your teeth and keep 'em for trophies."
Ah the damsel in distress. Bet you feel real good now, Hero?
Shut up. I looked at him again. "We need to get you to a doctor. If you know where the nearest hospital is then-"
"No!" He barked suddenly. "No... no fucking doctor. Take me... get a cab. Get a fucking cab, fast!"
Now normally when someone in this case tells you to not take him to a doctor, you ignore him completely. But there was something about this man, that made me hesitate, made me instead stand up and look around for a taxi instead. Something wild in his eyes.
The gun that had come in his left hand probably helped to.
Taxis never sleep, and in a few minutes I was able to hail one down. I approached him uncertainly, unsure of how to go about this.
"Uh... you speak English? My... friend... very hurt, need help."
"Yes, I speak English, you jackass. Where do you wanna-"
The taxi driver stopped, his eyes narrowing as they were drawn to the crash. They then swiveled around until they connected with the injured driver. At once the cabbie's eyes widened in fear. He barked something in Chinese, and the slammed on the gas. Before I could even so much as shout, he was already a pair of taillights fading rapidly down the street.
But I had seen the look in his eyes. The cabbie had recognized with guy with me, and that had scared the shit out of him. Which made me wonder just who was it I had rescued. I turned around and walked back to him, more than a little scared now.
"Uh... the cab just bailed."
He didn't sound surprised at that. Instead the bastard gave a slight chuckle. He put the gun on the ground beside him and reached into his jacket pocket, wincing in pain as he was forced to move.
At that moment, I could have run. His gun was on the ground and there was no way he could have caught me. But I didn't. I was rooted to the spot as he finally brought out a cellphone and threw it to me. I almost dropped it, but at the last moment my hand shot out and caught the mobile.
"Open the log... last number dialed. Call it."
I did, and after a few rings a voice answered on the other side. There was a man barking on the other side in rapid Chinese. I didn't know what to do, so I handed it back to him. He took it, spoke briefly into the phone, before cutting the call and leaning back against the pillar, his eyes closed. I had no clue what to do, so I just stood there beside him.
Waiting. Though not for long.
Ten minutes later, I could hear another group of engines, and seconds later three cars shot around the corner, all decked to the max, with bright paints and tinted windows. They pulled up beside us, the one in front done in wicked black and red. The driver's door opened, and a woman strode out, gun cocked and aimed at my face. My hands shot upwards of their own accord, and I tried very hard to not piss my pants.I looked past the gun, and decided that if she didn't shoot me, then I'd marry her. Not because she'd let me live, (well that too, I guess) but because I hadn't seen a hotter piece of ass in my entire-
Blam! The first shot rang though the night, and I closed my eyes, trying hard to will myself not to die. I opened them a second later to see her still staring at me, the gun now smoking. I looked right above me, where the bullet had lodged itself in the pillar behind me.
She pointed at the bleeding man on the floor. "Did you do this?"
"What?" I exclaimed. "No I was just-"
"Ràng tā de jiejie, tā jiù le wǒ de shēnghuó." The man on the ground spoke. "Ràng wǒ xià le chē."
The woman turned to face him ."Dànshì nǐ zěnme zhīdào shì bùshì zhèyàng tā jiù kěyǐ shā nǐ de shǒu? Nǐ shènzhì bù yìng gāi chūqù le jīn wǎn."
The man gave a painful smile. "Somehow, I doubt that. Now help me, quickly."
By now, three others, all men, all big men, had gotten out of the other cars. Two raced forward to help the injured driver to his feet, while the third looked around while he carried a very big gun. As he was hoisted on his feet and lead towards the cars, he asked the men helping him to stop as he passed me.
"I hope you do not mind my earlier behavior. I was in pain and not thinking straight. My name is Moni, and I thank you for your assistance. If there is anyway I could repay you, then-"
"A hot bath and a bed. In that order, please."
Despite the pain, he laughed out loud. "A frank man. They are often the best men. Come, I will give your 'hot bath and bed'."
He turned to face the woman. "Zhè rén huì hé wǒmen yīqǐ qù. Tā huì yǔ nǐ tóngxíng. Duìdài tā."
The woman scowled but said nothing. Instead she gestured for me to get into her car. I didn't understand for a second what she meant, but when she screamed at me to get in, I almost tripped over myself in hurry. I opened the door and got in the same time as she did. The other two cars had already begun to pull away, and she drove right behind them, her eyes only facing the road.
After a few uncomfortable minutes, I spoke first. "So... who's this Money guy I help?"
"His name is Moni, and he runs this city. You just saved his life, you should feel honored."
Somehow, that was the last thing I felt at that moment.
Speak for yourself. I have a feeling this is going to turn out fucking fantastic.
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