Whispers of Refuge Box Set

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 6

Mee-Kyong twisted around in her seat and examined the girl as best she could. She was a tiny wisp of a thing, even younger than Mee-Kyong had been when she first met Pang. “What’s your name?”

The girl didn’t raise her eyes. “Sun.”

“I’m Mee-Kyong.” She pressed against her abdomen, which protested in pain each time the broker’s tiny car sped over a bump in the road. “Have you ever been to China, little cousin?”

Sun shook her head.

“That’s a pretty dress,” Mee-Kyong remarked.

“Thank you,” the child croaked pitifully. How long had she been screaming in the back before Mee-Kyong and Min-Ho heard her?

Mee-Kyong winced and faced forward again, sitting carefully with one hip propped up to keep the weight off her sensitive areas. Don’t get attached to her, you sentimental wimp. You know exactly what the broker plans to do with her. Still, she couldn’t keep herself from wondering about the child. Where was her family? She was too innocent not to have one. Did they know she was here? Did they suspect what was about to happen to her?

“You’ll need to be ready soon.” It was the first time Min-Ho spoke since letting Sun out of the trunk.

Mee-Kyong grimaced and shifted her weight onto her other hip. “Aren’t you going to untie her hands?”

Min-Ho shrugged. “Do it quick. We cross the border in less than ten minutes.”

***

Sun liked Mee-Kyong from the very beginning. She didn’t know where Min-Ho found her, but she was glad she wasn’t traveling alone. She already missed her family more than she wanted to admit. She wished Jae were here to tell her one of his fantastical bedtime stories about lands where food grows on trees and the fields are filled with the leftovers that fall to the ground. She swallowed away the dryness in her throat. What had she been thinking to leave her family?

Just a few minutes had passed since Min-Ho handed a large roll of bills to the patrolmen on the bridge and drove across to the Chinese side of the border. Everything was so bright and colorful. Electric signs and bright street lamps illuminated the night. Sun had to squint her eyes to shield out some of the brilliance. “Is this where we’ll be working?”

Min-Ho shook his head. “Nah, this is just Tumen. It’s more like a town, really. I’m taking you on to Yanji. It’s even bigger.”

Nothing could have prepared Sun for the sights when Min-Ho’s car finally sped its way into the interior of Yanji about an hour later. She had never seen so many people gathered in one place before. Even in the middle of the night, young men and women scurried down one street and up the next. The women wore shoes with spikes on their heels, making Sun wonder how they kept from falling. The pedestrians were mostly Korean, with a few ethnic Chinese joining the throngs. Now Sun realized why Min-Ho told her she needed new clothes. Women and girls paraded by, some only a few years older than Sun, dressed in every color of the spectrum: flashy pink, bright teal, deep maroon. Their faces were just as vibrant, with glittery eyelids and red painted lips.

Sun put her hand to her throat and held her breath. She could hear her heartbeat all the way up to her ears. She squirmed in her new dress and stared out the window as Min-Ho rolled past one side street after another. Sun had never seen so many lights in one place and wondered how the Chinese could afford to keep them on all through the night.

Yanji itself stretched on and on. Each time Sun thought they must be through the heart of the city, Min-Ho would turn down another road, each one even more dazzling than the last. Eventually, he slowed down in front of a tall building. She counted the windows. It had five levels, and almost all of the lights were on inside. The sign in front was written in Korean, illuminated by a spotlight coming from the ground. Round Robin Inn.

Min-Ho parked. “We’re here. Get out.”

It was Sun’s first time in a car, and she didn’t know how to open the door. She watched the way he pulled against the handle.

“Not you,” Min-Ho barked at Mee-Kyong.

Sun jumped at his stern voice. Had Mee-Kyong done something wrong?

“You stay here,” Min-Ho ordered. “I just need the girl.”

Mee-Kyong turned back to face Sun. “Hope it goes well for you, little cousin.” Her words were kind, but her face was contorted like she was in pain.

Min-Ho came around and opened Sun’s door, his acne-scarred face softening. “We made it.” His voice was back to normal now, friendly and considerate. As nervous as she was, Sun managed to return his grin. He offered her his arm, and she took it like they practiced at the park. After smoothing out the skirt of her red dress, she swept her bangs out of her eyes and behind her ear. He brushed her bare arm. The light touch tickled. “Mr. Lee is going to love you. I just know it.”

Sun turned when she heard Mee-Kyong make a noise from the front seat. It sounded almost like a snort, but she couldn’t tell for sure. During the ride, she had assumed she and Mee-Kyong would be working together. So why did Mee-Kyong have to stay in the car? Sun felt flattered, but also a little guilty, that Min-Ho was going to escort her into the inn all by herself. “Will you be all right here?” she asked.

Mee-Kyong nodded and flashed a smile. “Of course, little cousin. Now go make a good impression.” Sun tried to read the expression on Mee-Kyong’s face, but the blinding lights all around made it difficult.

Min-Ho wrapped his arm around her waist. The protective gesture warmed her entire face. Had his sleeping medicine made her dizzy? “Come on, little one. Let’s go introduce you to Mr. Lee.” She leaned heavily on Min-Ho’s arm as they paraded up to the front doors of the Round Robin Inn.

***

Mee-Kyong watched as Sun sashayed away. The child glided over the concrete sidewalk as she held on to the broker’s arm. Min-Ho stood with his chest puffed out, stretching his spine as if an extra centimeter might conceal his short stature. Mee-Kyong adjusted her weight once more, groaning from the discomfort. The self-assured broker wouldn’t remain so happy, she suspected, when he saw all that blood on the seat of his car.

She shut her eyes. She just needed another minute to regain some of her strength. The pimpled man and his buyer would haggle over money, and then they would be back for her. She could tell by his swagger the broker intended to come out rich. Mee-Kyong was just an afterthought. That’s probably why he hadn’t wanted to bring her inside for the first meeting.

It was just as well. Mee-Kyong didn’t intend to let anybody sell her into the underground market of human flesh. It was time to make her escape. She wasn’t even sure her legs would hold her up to stand, but she would crawl one meter at a time if she had to. After spending almost two decades of her life at Camp 22, she wasn’t about to walk into captivity again.

She studied the building where Min-Ho took the girl and thought about the child’s beaming face. “Good luck, little cousin,” she whispered. She shut her eyes for a moment, wondering which was worse — to grow up in the prison camp and never have a childhood to speak of, or to grow up with a family that loved you and have your childhood ripped away in a single night.

Gritting her teeth against her own exhaustion and discomfort, Mee-Kyong reached for the handle of the car. The door was locked. What did you expect, fool? Did you think he was just going to let you run off unnoticed? She fumbled with the gadgets around her. She had only been in a car once before, a week earlier when Pang found them a ride for part of their journey from Camp 22 to the cabin in Onsong. At the time, she had been too excited at the prospect of a free life with Pang to pay attention to doors and mechanisms. You i***t. You killed off the only good thing that ever happened to you, and now look where you’ve ended up.

Mee-Kyong scowled at the windows of the Round Robin Inn. She had suffered worse, but still she didn’t plan to stick around. She would find a way to escape. She fingered the knife in her pocket. She remembered the sight of Pang’s blood on the blade and imagined returning with it to Camp 22. Which of the guards would she approach first if she had the opportunity? She brushed the handle of her weapon and fumbled at the door with her other hand until she finally found the lock. She fell outside, gasping with pain, and stumbled out into the night. Her bare feet splashed in an icy puddle beneath her, and she almost doubled over from the burning sensation in her gut. She was too weak to even cry out in frustration.

“Going somewhere?” The pimple-faced broker was right above her. Next to him towered a man wearing a suit. His stomach was so massive it bulged out not only in front but also to either side of him. Mee-Kyong reached into her pocket for the knife, and then she saw the girl. Sun stood behind the broker in that flimsy dress. Her bangs fell in front of her eyes and she opened her mouth in the shape of a little ring. Mee-Kyong froze.

Min-Ho gestured toward her. “Here’s the other one.”

The fat man grunted but said nothing.

Sun rushed to Mee-Kyong’s side. “Are you all right? Were you afraid we forgot you?”

Mee-Kyong looked up and noted the hint of guilt in the child’s face. She tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “I’m fine, little cousin.” She stood up as straight as she could and glared at the two men. “I just needed some fresh air.”