29 December 1941, Dawn, Kampar
Aman stood quietly before the British officer, a stern man in his late thirties with a sharp jawline and a clean uniform. He introduced himself with a clipped accent:
"Captain Carter. I'm here to question you and that Chinese girl over there." He pointed toward Mei Lian, who sat silently in the corner, tense and alert.
Aman and Mei Lian had been held in a small interrogation room ever since their arrival at Kampar. Suspicion ran high, especially now that the KKM movement largely Malay nationalists sympathetic to the Japanese was gaining traction. The British were on edge, unsure who to trust. Consider Malay really wanna British out while Japan promise that.
Carter dropped a worn leather satchel onto the table and opened it. He began laying out its contents: a compass, a stained map, a few ration packets, and a snub-nose revolver.
"Nice little collection here," Carter said casually, inspecting the pistol. "Especially this. You want to tell me how a kid like you got a gun like this?" He leaned forward, his tone light, but his eyes sharp.
Aman stiffened. "It was given to me by an officer. He told me to take it after Jitra was lost. He stayed behind to cover us. He didn't make it."
Carter tilted his head. "And I'm supposed to believe that story? What was his name?"
Before Aman could answer, Mei Lian stepped forward. "He's telling the truth! That man saved us. Aman's been protecting me ever since."
"I didn't ask you, girl," Carter snapped, eyes cold. "Sit down."
Aman clenched his fists. "First Lieutenant Henry... Henry. He said to take his supplies and keep going. He didn't want them falling into enemy hands."
Carter paused. "Henry Rush?" His voice softened slightly. "Tall man? Scar under his eye? Suicidal? And his family death at London after bombing raid?"
Aman nodded.
Carter leaned back with a dry chuckle. "Bloody hell... Henry. That suicidal maniac. Never thought he'd go down quietly. Damn shame. He could've been a major, you know until he decked a colonel. Got knocked down to lieutenant instead. We served together in Burma. Guy had a death wish but knew how to fight. And surprisingly scared of death despite being suicidal and well in Burma he put down the riot easily"
He picked up the revolver, checked the cylinder, and held it up. "Yep. This has his name written all over it. You ever fire this?"
Aman shook his head. "No. I've never used a gun."
Carter narrowed his eyes. Then, with a grunt, he stood. "Come on. You're going to learn."
---
Outside, in the open clearing behind the barracks, Carter set up a few makeshift targets using empty ration tins and wooden crates. Mei Lian stood back, arms crossed, watching nervously.
Carter handed Aman the revolver. "First rule: never point a gun at anything you're not willing to kill. Second: this isn't like in the comic, or story from radio or whatever entrainment information you got about gun. You fire, and it kicks. Hard. Grip it tight. One hand under the other. Like this."
He adjusted Aman's stance, guiding his hands.
"Align your sights the groove here at the back, and the post at the front. Line them up with the target. Breathe slow. Steady. Squeeze the trigger. Don't jerk it. You jerk, you miss."
Aman took a breath. His hands trembled. He pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The shot rang out, echoing through the hills. The gun recoiled sharply in his grip.
"That's," Aman muttered. "That's... heavier than it looks."
Carter grinned. "Told you. But you hit the edge of the crate. Not bad for your first shot. Try again."
He spent the next hour running Aman through basic marksmanship reloading, safety checks, handling under pressure. Aman listened, absorbed every word. Mei Lian eventually stepped closer.
"You're getting good," she said, half-impressed, half-worried.
"Better than nothing," Aman replied.
Carter handed him back the revolver. "It's yours. Henry wanted you to have it. I'm not about to take it away. Just don't shoot yourself with it."
Aman gave a faint smile.
Suddenly, a low drone filled the air. Carter squinted at the sky.
"Is that... Japanese planes?"
Black dots appeared on the horizon, growing larger.
"Everyone to cover!" shouted a nearby soldier.
Kampar was about to become a war zone.
---
Later that evening, under the dim light of oil lamps, Carter returned to where Aman and Mei Lian sat, now under temporary supervision.
"Train south leaves at dawn. You two are being evacuated to Singapore. Kampar's not safe anymore. It's going to be a battleground, and I'd rather not see civilians getting torn apart when it starts."
Mei Lian looked up, her voice soft. "I'm scared."
Aman reached for her hand. "We'll be okay. We've made it this far."
Carter watched them for a moment before lighting a cigarette. He didn't say anything more.
The British weren't going to give up Kampar easily. This wasn't going to be another Jitra, Gurun, or Kota Bharu. This time, they were ready to dig in and make the Japanese bleed.
But for Aman and Mei Lian, the war was far from over.
And the road south to Singapore would be no easier.