Love in the Land of Dragons

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 21 (v.21) - Chapter 21

Submitted: October 11, 2016

Reads: 165

Comments: 8

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Submitted: October 11, 2016

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

From Elizabeth Anders's perspective, time had mysteriously slowed down. The street crowds, spooked by the random gunfire from the rebel snipers stirred, as if immersed in mollasses; their screams barely audible.

Elizabeth slowly turned her head to take another glance at the girl who had been shot. The girl's body lay face down in an ever expanding crimson pool of her own blood. Elizabeth felt compelled to go to her aid, although she inherently realized it was too late. Suddenly, someone called out her name. She turned to see Grace Seton reaching out to her.

"Come...on..Lizzie...we've...got...to...go!!" Grace called in a drawn out snarl.

However, it took another bullet to rip through the rickshaw's bamboo top to jolt Elizabeth back to reality. Now the crowds rushed by. Their screams loud. Their confusion rampant. Time was back in its proper rhythm.

Elizabeth quickly found herself being jerked out of the rickshaw by Grace and dragged down the street. They zig zagged through the panicked crowds before hightailing it down a side alley. They ran and ran until the alarmed crowds thinned.

In the distance they could still hear gunfire, quickly follwed by the rat-tat-tat sounds of return fire. Government soldiers had finally arrived and a gun battle with the rebel sniper had begun to ensue.

Soon they emerged from the alley onto a busy street. Here it was business as usual. No one seemed aware, or even cared for that matter, of the ordeal thaat was playing out only two blocks over. Exhausted, they stopped and leaned agasinst the brick wall of a butcher shop to try and catch their breath.

"How much further?' Elizabeth inquired.

"Oh, another half dozen blocks," Grace replied pointing west.

So west they walked. Traversing through another crowd, manuvering around pedestrians and vendors selling other wares. As they headed down the street, they suddenly heard someone call out.

"Hey! You two Saltwater girls?"

Elizabeth and Grace turned to see a skinny man with a black patch over his left eye; a lighted cigarette dangled precariously from his thin lips.

"Are we what?" Elizabeth confusedly replied.

Grace immediately grabbed ahold of Elizabeth's arm to keep her moving along.

"He's asking us if we're whores," Grace explained, "ignore him."

Elizabeth nodded but they both quickly found their way blocked by two more very intimidating men sporting shaved heads adorned with dragon tattoos.

"Get out of our way," Grace ordered, but the men remained streadfast.

Soon the skinny guy joined the two blocking their way.

"Who you think you are working my territory?" skinny guy asked threateningly.

"I assure you sir, we are not working anything," Elizabeth innocently answered.

"Lizzie!" Grace admonished, "Don't talk to him. He's just a neighborhood pimp."

"Maybe you both come work for me, no?" the pimp amusingly said, "you both seem to have more European blood than Oriental. You can make much Yuan out on street. What you say?"

"I say you couldn't afford us either way," Grace sarcastically noted, " so back off."

Just then one man reached out and grabbed a hold of Elizabeth's arm and drew her close.

"Please leave us alone!" Elizabeth beggged, as the man quickly placed his hand over her mouth.

Meanwhile, the other man made a move towards Grace.

But as Elizabeth started to struggle, she heard the other man scream, as Grace quickly kicked him in the groin bringing him withering down to the ground in pain.

As for the man who held Elizabeth, he  heard a metallic click and found a pink derringer held firlmly against the side of his head.

"Let her go or what few brains you have will be splattered up and down this street," Grace warned.

The man quickly let Elizabeth go.

And as Grace held the pink pistol steady on the pimp and his cohorts, Elizabeth asked, "Should we call the police?"

"No," Grace replied, "we should run!"

And once again they ran. As hard and as fast as they could, believing the pimp and his crew would follow suite, but as they covered a couple more blocks they turned back to see they apparently had not been followed.

"Well Lizzie, add another encounter to your list of adventures."

"Unfortunately, my list is becoming much longer than I had ever antcipated," Elizabeth smiled before adding, "But I didn't know you carried a gun."

"It's a girl's best friend," Grace grinned, as she placed the pink pistol back into her jacket pocket, "and I don't know about you, but I've had about enough of this walking. Let's hitch a ride."

With that said, Grace quickly flagged down a chicken wagon pulled by two old gray mares.

"Are you by chance riding past the Canton Hotel?" Grace called up to the elderly driver.

The driver nodded.

"Care if we hitch a ride?" 

The old man shrugged indifferently, "Suit youself."

"Thank you, sir. Come on Lizzie, we're riding the rest of the way."

But as Elizabeth and Grace started to step up to sit beside the driver, the old man held his hand up in disapproval.

"You sit in back with chickens," he firmly stated.

"But sir, you wouldn't want to place such cultured ladies as ourselves back with the chickens would you?" Grace asked, putting on her sad and pathetic face in order to persuade the driver to change his mind. But the driver was not persuaded.

"You want ride? You sit with chickens."

So Elizabeth and Grace reluctantly jumped in back to sit with the chickens, as the wagon rolled on.

"This must remind you of home, huh Lizzie?" Grace teasingly said.

"It does," Elizabeth laughed, as they quickly found themselves covered in feathers, as a dozen hens decided to get into a scuffle over a cock of the walk rooster.

"Well, this sure ain't turning into a jigger jaunt is it?" Grace lamented.

And as Elizabeth started to spit out some feathers that had found their way into her mouth, she reminded Grace, "Welcome to Canton."

Grace nodded and smiled, "Touche Lizzie. Touche."

 

 

 

 

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© Copyright 2017 Nikki Evans. All rights reserved.

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