"Wait!" the man screamed as Aman gripped his arm tightly.
Aman stared him dead in the eye. Without hesitation, he twisted and broke the man's arm.
"Sigh... come on, it's just a little fracture. You know how crazy the Japanese are, what i did now let say it was tame compare to them." Aman muttered as he let the man go. The man tried to crawl away, groaning in pain. But he couldn't walk Aman had already broken his legs earlier.
"You're insane!" the man cried out, crawling away in fear.
Melati couldn't bear to watch. She turned her head, eyes fixed on anything but the scene in front of her. She hated being around Aman. She hated his violence, his unpredictability, and the emptiness in his eyes when he hurt people. But what choice did she have? There was no one else. Nowhere else to go.
She glanced back at the man, beaten and terrified. A wave of pity washed over her. Aman was unpredictable. Sometimes he acted dumb, reckless even, but then he'd switch become cold, calculating. That duality scared her the most. The same went for how he treated her. He shouted sometimes, snapped at her, but he hadn't hurt her. Not like he did others.
"Ahhh, you really mute or what?" Aman sighed, looking down at the injured man.
"No! No! I swear, I don't know anything! Who the fuck is Rahman?!" the man shouted, fear turning his voice hoarse.
"Strange. You're in the same unit as him, aren't you?" Aman said with mock suspicion.
"No! What the hell are you talking about?! The organization was huge! You think I know everyone?" he yelled.
Aman glanced around. Several bodies already lay lifeless, slumped awkwardly against the walls. The small office was a mess furniture overturned, documents half-burned, chaos lingering in every corner.
"Ah, well... my bad," Aman said with a crooked smile.
Without hesitation, he pulled a length of iron wire from his bag and wrapped it around the man's neck. The man struggled, but Aman held tight, face expressionless, until the man stopped moving. No blood. No noise. No wasted bullets. Clean.
Melati watched in silence, her stomach churning. She was sick of it all. Sick of the killing. Sick of him. But she knew there was nothing she could do. Not now. Aman showed clear signs of mental instability, and she was trapped walking beside him.
...
Meanwhile, Mei Lian sat cross legged near a broken down tea stall, laughing softly. Tea shall seem just recently abandoned.
"You're actually pretty funny," she said, looking up at Rahman. "It's been a while since I laughed."
Rahman smiled faintly. "What do you mean?"
"Ah, nothing. I've just spent too much time around weirdos," she replied, kicking a stone with her shoe.
Rahman nodded. "I see."
Something about him felt... off. But Mei Lian pushed the thought aside. "You wait!"
Rahman walked over to his car to grab something from the trunk. When he turned back, Mei Lian was gone.
"Huh. Weird girl," he muttered, lighting a cigarette. "But that cloth... she's hiding a rifle under it. And a pistol tucked at her waist. What the hell is she planning?"
Rahman had noticed everything the rifle, the way she moved, the questions she asked. He didn't confront her, though. Whatever she was planning, it wasn't his business. His priority was simple get the Ford Prefect running and get the hell out of Kuala Lumpur before the Japanese arrived.
Suddenly, a loud explosion rang out from the factory district.
Rahman flinched, then exhaled a long stream of smoke. "Desperate fools. Why did I ever work with them?"
...
Elsewhere, Aman was looting the bodies he had left behind. He pulled out cigarettes, a half filled bottle of alcohol, and found a stash of gasoline stored near a utility room.
"Huh. Drinking on duty, huh? Well, British dogs did whatever they wanted. Aren't we the same now?" he said, mostly to himself.
He began pouring the gasoline around the room, soaking the wooden floors and furniture. Melati was already outside, refusing to watch what he was doing.
She stood near the entrance, looking down at the cracked pavement, lost in thought. She was terrified. Terrified of Aman, terrified of the world. And most of all, terrified that no one else would come. That she'd be stuck with him forever.
Aman lit his cigarette with a match, took one puff, then casually flicked the lit match inside.
The building caught fire instantly.
Melati's eyes widened in horror as flames spread like a wave.
This person she followed this boy named Aman wasn't just reckless. He was dangerous. How long could she stay with someone like him before he turned on her?
People nearby screamed and shouted as they saw the building burn. Some ran. Others watched in shock.
Aman, unfazed, grabbed Melati's hand and pulled her away from the scene. As they ran, an explosion rocked the ground behind them. The fire had reached something flammable.
The chaos behind them gave them cover to disappear into the crowd.
...
Mei Lian walked along the edge of a now half abandoned neighborhood. Some people were packing up their homes, others locking doors and disappearing inside. Fear hung in the air like smoke.
The Japanese were near. Everyone knew it. And those who had survived their last advance knew what came next.
But not everyone ran.
Some stayed behind, either because they had nowhere else to go, or because they didn't believe it was real.
Mei Lian scanned the area. She spotted a few suspicious figures moving toward a convoy. They looked organized, methodical. Maybe smugglers. Maybe something worse. She didn't care.
She had one goal find Aman.
But the question haunted her was he still captive? Or had he already escaped?
She spotted a boy standing near one of the evacuation trucks.
He looked about her age maybe twelve or thirteen. Mei Lian was twelve herself. Aman had told her once that he was fourteen. It was hard to believe, considering everything he had done for her well when she meet Aman he actually well believable fourteen year old teenager. The world had twisted them all into something they shouldn't have been.
...
"You what? You're fourteen?!" Melati gasped.
Aman shrugged. "Yeah."
"You... you look young, sure, but still... after everything you've done?"
Aman gave a half-smile. "Yeah. Stuff happened. A couple years ago, I wouldn't have imagined being here. But war's like that, right? We're just unfortunate children."
They walked together through the city. No one chased them. No one even noticed them, despite the earlier explosion.
And then, another boom echoed through the city. Melati instinctively covered her ears.
Aman looked toward the rising smoke. "British must be going crazy."
He started walking toward it. Melati hesitated. Every part of her wanted to turn the other way. But she forced herself forward. As crazy as he was, Aman kept her alive.
...
Mei Lian approached the boy.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Latif."
"Where are you headed?"
"I don't know. My mother said we were going to Singapore."
"How old are you?"
"Thirteen."
"I guess I grew up too fast because of this war," Mei Lian muttered.
She looked at Latif. He seemed so innocent. It hurt to see someone like him stuck in this nightmare.
"Where's your mother?"
"She told me to wait here. She went to check the other truck."
"I think I saw you earlier, being pushed out of the way."
Latif nodded.
People were scrambling to get on the trucks, fighting for space. Police were shouting, trying to control the chaos.
"There! That's my mother!" Latif shouted, pointing.
Mei Lian followed his gaze.
And then, in a flash.
An explosion.
The truck exploded violently, tearing through the crowd. Bodies were thrown. Screams echoed. Smoke filled the air.
Mei Lian coughed and stumbled backward. Her ears rang.
When the smoke cleared, she saw Latif walking toward the wreckage, stunned. He dropped to his knees in front of a burnt body.
His mother.
He said nothing. Just stared.
Emotionless.
Mei Lian stood frozen. There was nothing she could do.
She turned away.
"Aman?" she whispered.
"Mei?" came a familiar voice.
They turned toward each other.
After everything, they had finally found each other again.