Don Winslow - The Trail to Buddha_s Mirror

“I’m not O’Reilly!”

Step, step, step.

Boy, am I putting one over on them.

Step.

Simms spotted them first, but then again he was looking the hardest, and they were outlined pretty clearly against the cliff face. One of them looks hurt, Simms thought. The other is dog-tired.

He nudged Peng and pointed. “There are your puppies!”

Peng was bathed in sweat. Three Look Staircase was worth more than three looks.

“Will we catch up with them?”

“If you can shake your ass!”

“Remember, I want her and Pendleton alive!”

Maybe you do, Simms thought. But I don’t want to take the chance of one of them being part of a spy swap some day and telling all kinds of stories in the debrief.

“Remember,” Peng said. “They are evidence!”

Corpses are evidence, too, Simms thought.

“Let’s worry about that when we catch them, all right?”

Simms saw that this fired up Old Peng and made him waddle a little faster. The kid behind them was fading.

It doesn’t matter, Simms thought. As long as I don’t fade. And I don’t have to catch them, I just have to get in range. The bullets will catch them.

Neal lay down at the top of the eighty-fourth switchback. The path in front of him was fairly level, just a mild grade across a bottomless chasm. Li was laying down also-on her back, rhythmically slowing her breathing, getting ready for the next phase.

“I’ve lost sight of them,” Neal gasped.

“That is bad. It means they are closer. We cannot see them because of the angle.”

“I’ll bet the resting is finished.”

She stood up. “We are on the Elephant’s Saddle. If we cross quickly, we can reach the summit ahead of them. I think, perhaps, in time.”

Neal knew a cue when he heard one, and forced himself up. He indulged in a look over the edge of the trail. It was a mistake. You wouldn’t want to go off either side without a parachute. You wouldn’t want to go off either side with a parachute.

“Is this the time to tell you that I’m afraid of heights?” Neal asked.

“No,” she said as she stepped out.

No sense of humor, Neal thought. Maybe I should try the O‘Reilly joke on her. He picked his way carefully along the dirt trail. Bits of shale slid out from under his foot and rattled off the edge. Neal resisted the temptation to watch them fall into eternity. His rib cage felt as if Reggie Jackson had used it for batting practice. His legs quivered and his ankles shook. He didn’t even want to check in with his feet. He heard noise and looked up to see Li Lan break into a trot ahead of him.

He limped along the path.

Xao’s driver handed his field glasses to his boss.

“They are on the Saddle,” he said.

Xao looked through the glasses. He could make out the figure of Li Lan, strong but tired, jogging up the slope. Carey seemed to be limping far behind her.

“He is injured, I think,” Xao observed.

“Or merely unfit,” the driver answered.

Xao handed back the glasses.

“What about Peng? Can you see him?”

“I lost them when they entered the Thundering Terrace. They must be well up the switchbacks now.”

“You said there were three.”

“Yes, and I could swear one is a Westerner. The one with the rifle.”

“Impossible. Probably a Yi tribesman, a hunter.” The driver shrugged.

“How long?” Xao asked. “An hour at the most. Longer for him.”

“Go and get things ready.”

“Yes, Comrade Secretary.”

An hour, Xao thought. After all these years, one hour to the family reunion.

She reached the Buddha’s Ladder well before he did, of course. It wasn’t a ladder at all, but a severe rise up the side of the summit to the edge of a precipice. On the other side was the Buddha’s Mirror. There were few actual steps here, mostly just a treacherous, slippery dirt path.

She stopped and waited. The view from here was lovely, she thought. Rock peaks seemed to rise straight up from verdant bamboo jungles. Swirling rivers and waterfalls like sapphire brocade on green silk. The entire Sichuan Valley stretched out in front of her. Behind her, Emei’s final peak, gray and austere, waited for her. The sight of her own soul waited for her, and she had waited a long time for it.

The sunset would be scarlet. She could tell that already. How appropriate, she thought, that she would meet herself under a red sky.

“Hurry up!” she shouted to him.

There was much to love about him, she thought as he broke into a jog. It was more like a shuffle, but she admired him for it. What pain it must be costing him! What a stubborn man! And what a price his stubbornness had cost!

“Can you go on?” she asked when he reached her side. He was bathed in sweat. His face was green with pain.

“Yeah. How far behind do you think they are?”

She shook her head. “I think we can make it, but we have no time to waste. Please do not fall behind.”

She squeezed his hand, then turned and started up the last climb. She had tried to encourage him, and perhaps herself, but in her heart she knew it was too late.

Simms watched her. If he’d had a better weapon he might have tried it right there, but that would still have left Carey and Pendleton to deal with. No, better to wait until they were all nice and cozy at the top.

He looked down to where Peng was huffing up the last couple of switchbacks.

“Jesus H. Christ, put it in gear!” Simms yelled.

Nothing more useless than a fat chink, he thought. And the young one is completely useless.

Well, shit, I can’t afford to wait for them.

Come on, he told himself. Let’s get it done.

He pushed out onto the saddle.

Neal worked his way up the slope on his hands and feet. The grade was so severe he couldn’t stand up and walk, so he used his hands to balance. Li Lan was using the same method just above him, only she was making much faster progress. Every few paces Neal’s ribs scraped against the slope, and the fiery pain would stop him for a few precious seconds.

He heard her yell, “There is a flat spot just up here! You can make it!”

He pulled himself along, digging into the dirt with his fingers, literally clawing his way up. It seemed like hours before he made it to where she was sitting behind a large rock on the uphill side of the path. She pulled him behind it with her.

He could see the summit clearly now. What looked like a rough wooden pavilion was perched on the edge of the far side. Two men-no, three-stood on the pavilion and looked down toward the path. Two were of medium build and stocky, one was tall and thin. Pendleton? Neal couldn’t be sure at the distance and angle.

Then he heard voices echo below. Li Lan stood up and peeked over the rock. Then she slammed her fist on the rock in rage and frustration. She turned back to Neal.

Tears of anger streamed down her face.

“It is too late!”

Neal leaned out over the rock. His ribs exploded in a burst of pain. He saw Simms pacing steadily across the saddle, almost to the base of the ladder. Peng waddled about a hundred yards behind him, followed closely by Wu, who was shuffling along in his distinctive pigeon-toed gait.

He turned back to Li.

“We can run. We can make it. We can warn them.”

She looked steadily in his eyes. “Fate is fate. You cannot change it. You Americans always think you can change it. You must learn to face your fate, learn to face the truth. Face what your stubbornness, and selfishness, and lust have done.”

“Love.”

“No, lust. I begged you to stop, but you wouldn’t stop. Now see what you have done. See what we have done. Accept it.”

Neal slipped the pistol from the small of his back.

“Go. I’ll buy you the time.”