Criminal

Author: Zhang Ping / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: This is a long novel about positions, about belief, about perseverance. A disabled veteran and a forest ranger who upholds national duty kills four people with an old rifle one night, and suddenly his identity changes—was he a murderer or a righteous man? Zhang Ping, with his passion and vigor, with his foresight and insight, presents us with a brand-new, uncompromising ordinary hero in this novel. At the same time, it provides a profound revelation of the "national character" demonstrated by ordinary people in real-life circumstances. The film Tian Gou (The Heaven Dog), adapted from the novel The Criminal, won the Best Story Award at the 13th College Students Film Festival in 2006.
A dog stirred, and suddenly a large ball of red fire rushed out before him, spreading across the sky and rolling toward him. Just like the fire that burst out on the front line, just like the fire that surged out after he was struck hard on the back of his head. Was it just now? The dark, dense crowd around him—how could he break free? Countless fists, feet, sticks, bricks, stones, shovels, and steel bars surged at him from all directions. His hair was grabbed, his head was held firmly, and his arms were twisted behind his back—he couldn’t protect himself at all. He saw a man pick up a huge grinding stone in both hands and bring it down hard on his right leg. They knew he was missing a leg, that his left leg was artificial—they wanted to break his good leg. He tried to dodge, but couldn’t. The stone hit his right wrist with a heavy thud, and he groaned loudly, then saw the red fire rushing toward him, covering the sky.
He shook his head, trying to off the fire before him. His head felt so heavy, like a grinding stone from the ninth layer of the heavens, pressing him down so he couldn’t lift it. So sleepy, so numb, so dizzy. He squeezed his eyelids, then squeezed them again. Squeeze once, loosen once, squeeze again, loosen again. He tried to open his eyes by testing the rebound of his eyelids. His eyelids were tight, as if glued to rubber. He felt as if he had used all his strength, but still couldn’t open them. The glue was too tight. It was stuck.
He took a breath and suddenly felt extremely tired. Then the red fire before him gradually dimmed. The whole world slowly returned to darkness, heavy and profound, silent and still. Suddenly, he heard a very low, terrifying sound. Like the roar of mountains and seas, like an earthquake shaking the earth. It was as if thousands of planes were diving from the sky or hundreds of tanks were rolling toward him. Zha zha zha zha—a violent tremor, and his eyes suddenly opened. The sky was gray, the distant and nearby mountains dark as ink. Zha zha zha zha—the thunderous sound still echoed in the distance, gradually approaching him. He couldn’t help but tremble again, and his head lifted. Zha zha zha zha—the thunderous sound surged forward like a mountain collapsing and the sea turning upside down. He stood there for a long time, utterly bewildered.
Just like that time he was trapped on a mountain, with all his comrades dead, and only he remained on the front line. The sky was just as gray, the surroundings just as silent, the people just as exhausted—as before. Suddenly, he realized that this terrible sound must be thousands of enemy soldiers and countless tanks charging toward him. Zha zha zha zha—the sound grew louder, closer. Unconsciously, he grabbed his gun. The gun was still there! A sudden surge of excitement and exhilaration. The gun was still there! His heart rate suddenly increased, and for a moment, he felt full of strength. The confusion, fear, and emotional low point, as well as his exhaustion, vanished instantly. His mind was unusually clear, free of any dizziness. He still had a gun!
Zha zha zha zha—unconsciously, his shoulder shook, and in the blink of an eye, the gun was raised before him, while his hand tightened on the trigger. The movement was perfect, seamless. Though he used only one hand, his left arm was completely numb. This was the result of countless night-time surprise combat drills. He had always been excellent.
Zha zha zha zha—he froze for a moment, unable to help but frown. Mistake? Was it really a mistake? The commander from the military academy had told them that in battle, mistaking illusions could easily cause loss of control and expose their position. A cat purring nearby or a dragonfly vibrating by his ear—if mistaken for sounds from afar, it could create a terrifying auditory effect, making the sound seem as loud as the world collapsing, the seas churning. Was it really a mistake? He shook his head hard, trying to correct the sound’s position. Yes, it was a mistake. It was indeed a mistake. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed, his body going limp, with an indescribable irritation lingering.
Zha zha zha zha—something must be crawling on a dry leaf nearby. Mistake? He suddenly felt utterly absurd. Could it be that this suffocating darkness, this despairing gloom, this deathly silence before him were all illusions! And could these countless wounds, the sudden intense pain, and the terrifying and shameful scene he had just witnessed also be illusions! The pain grew stronger, as if countless sharp blades were piercing him. Another wave of dizziness hit him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. What flashed in his mind was a huge, luminous green dial. The hour hand pointed to twenty-one fifty.