After I delivered Tanyŏl and went out for a cigarette, I began to think. We couldn’t just leave him there, and I thought maybe my older sister might be able to protect him since her husband was a Party member.
Let’s name the baby Daniel. The Lord protected Daniel, even in the lion’s den.
That can wait. The pain is killing me.
I realized my only option was to leave by myself. I left the house, telling my wife I was going to my sister’s house to ask for help since she was in no condition to be on the road. My older sister lived in a neighboring village, Palsan, and my younger sister, two years my junior, had married a man in Unbong and settled down there. Since I’d missed the advance trucks that left the day before to stay and help with my wife’s childbirth, it was crucial that I get at least as far as the pier in Haeju by the end of the coming day. That was the final meeting point. By two o’clock, I could already feel the imminent arrival of dawn hanging over the mountain forests. The mist began to climb up over the ridges and spread itself out over the fields. The night was still but the air was icy.
Entering the village of Palsan, I managed to find my sister’s house with a series of ready guesses. It was in a narrow alleyway bordered by a long stone fence on either side. A huge ginkgo tree marked what looked like the entrance — the stone fence simply ended, and the ginkgo tree appeared. I turned the corner, but as I stood facing the blind alley that led to my sister’s house, a sense of uneasiness suddenly enveloped my entire body.
Despite the fact that it was the middle of the night, the wide wooden gate — rather fancy for a rural house — stood wide open at the end of the alley. It looked to be grinning ominously. I unslung the 30-round automatic carbine from my shoulder and held it at the ready. The front yard was empty and the house, two rooms built side by side, was dark. I went closer and called out softly, Sister, are you there?
No answer. I opened the door to one of the rooms. Sweeping the room with my flashlight, I found it was empty. The mattress was laid out, but the blankets had been thrown to the side, as if someone had just hurried out of bed. I thought I heard something at the back of the house. Aiming the rifle, I walked along the fence and went into the backyard. Something dark was squatting down, crouched close to the ground.
Who’s there?
Without turning, the black thing muttered, What have we done to deserve this, what crime have we committed.?
Brother-in-law?
Switching the flashlight on, I shone the light around the yard. A long skirt and a pair of bare feet were visible next to my brother-in-law.
Oh, God! What’s going on?
Your sister. She’s dead.
I’d seen so many dead bodies over the previous month that the scene itself didn’t strike me as being particularly shocking. I just wanted to find out who had dared to do such a thing to Ryu Yohan’s sister.
Who’s done this?
Suddenly grabbing me by the collar as I crouched down next to him, my brother-in-law started shaking me back and forth, bursting into tears.
Who else but you and your kind would do something like this?
What? We did this?
That’s right. Sangho was here. Lucky for me, I happened to be hiding under the floorboards.
I barely managed to get him off of me — he kept shaking me by the collar, hollering that the only way a farmer could get by these past few years had been to join the Party, asking me what deadly crime I thought he’d committed.
We thought since you were a vice-commander, we’d be safe — even in hiding, I wasn’t too worried — and now, look! We’ve been struck by lightning!
That filthy butcher!
It suddenly occurred to me that the whole notion of this side and that side, of us and them — it was all over. It was no longer the Lord’s Crusade. We were no longer fighting to overthrow Satan. We have been tested, I thought to myself, and we have been found wanting. Our faith was corrupted. My comrades and I — we’d become the endless days, days without light. What does that mean, you ask? We were sick and tired of living. At the least provocation, we would spit out, Fuck it, and kill whoever happened to be involved.
The decent-looking girls were taken to the resort at the hot springs, run by the social insurance agency. There were members of the Women’s League, school teachers, and daughters of the enemy. The ones who’d been sent up from the South seemed to have plenty of experience — they were uninhibited and quite. knowledgeable. Since the resort catered to men from the Youth Corps, the security forces, and even the Autonomous Police, we didn’t get into the question of hierarchy or rank despite the fact that we all had different official positions.
I never touched alcohol later in life, and actually that was pretty much the case in my youth, too. I did smoke cigarettes — I quit those in my old age. Pongsu, the leader of the Youth Corps, and Sangho both loved to drink, so they’d frequent the fancy restaurants together all the time. The two of them got along famously. When the war came to an end a month after we’d seized the whole town, we were confident that this new way of life was here to stay. There was a party every night. At first, I couldn’t figure out where the men from the security forces went for their evening get-togethers. I myself finally ended up going to the resort only because Sangho insisted on having a farewell gathering to enjoy ourselves for one last time in our hometown. That was two days before we evacuated, I think.
The resort was an inn built by the Japanese in the old days. Inside the glass front door was a long wooden corridor, and every room had a sliding door made of rice paper and a Japanese-style tatami floor. When I entered the room I was greeted by half a dozen familiar faces. All around the table, sandwiched between the men, were a number of young women. The guys all acted fairly decently in the beginning — they behaved like gentlemen for a while. As they put back more and more alcohol, however, their language and gestures grew uglier. One man actually hit one of the girls. Then, after confirming something with the staff, Sangho turned to Pongsu.
Today’s tasty side dish is a female school teacher.
What? You mean you brought her here?
She’s standing by, in nothing but a bathrobe.
Hey, what about me? I want a go.
All right, all right, let’s draw lots to decide the order.
I wasn’t quite sure what they were talking about. Finally, as everyone started pouring out of the room into the hallway, I turned to Sangho.
What, is something interesting about to happen?
You should try it out, too. That woman teacher, Yun — she’s here.
Here at the hot springs?
Well, hell, it’s better than dying, isn’t it?
I flinched away and sat back down at the empty table, all alone. There was a huge uproar coming from the corridor, the sound of men laughing raucously against the background of a woman’s screams. I threw back two glasses in a row, though I never could hold my liquor. I stayed in the room for a long time before I finally walked out into the corridor, all flushed from the alcohol. As I walked by, I heard somebody moan in pain. I opened a sliding door and looked inside. Three men were sitting around a naked woman, holding down her arms and legs. A fourth man was on top of the woman, in the process of raping her. Swallowing the bile that rose up in my throat, I felt myself being drawn into the room — it was as if someone pulled me by a string. Pongsu must have already had his turn; he was still naked above the waist. Sangho’s pants were down around his calves. Over his shoulder I could see the woman’s familiar face. The string of her Japanese-style bathrobe was unfastened and spread wide open across the tatami floor. I must have kicked Sangho, since he rolled to the side. Then I reached into my jacket, took out my pistol, and shot her. I shot twice, I think. I staggered out of the room, but no one came after me. The sound of the gunshots kept ringing through my head.