My hands slowly return to my side, and my heart aches as I recall Li Wei’s brave, handsome face telling me: We’re pretty good at the impossible. I have to force myself to remain calm and serious as I regard my people.
No one responds right away. Mostly they seem to again be processing what I’ve told them. Hope rises in me, and I dare to believe that my people are taking heed and will believe me so that we can all find a reasonable course to save ourselves.
As it turns out, I am wrong.
CHAPTER 16
A MAN I DISTANTLY KNOW, an older miner, is the first to act. He storms up onto the dais and tears down a section of my painting, hurling it to the ground. Tension has been building and swelling in the crowd as I speak, and it’s as though that one defiant action spurs everyone to action. Chaos breaks out.
People storm the stage, attacking the rest of my record. Some simply want it down, others furiously work to destroy it, tearing it into unrecognizable pieces. And some people aren’t interested in the painting at all—they come for me. Suddenly, getting my message across is no longer my primary goal. Staying alive is.
Angry faces loom in my vision as hands reach for me, clawing and groping. I never would have expected to fear attack from my own people, but the world as I’ve known it has drastically changed in a matter of days. Someone tears the sleeve of my shirt, and I feel nails gauge my cheek. Fearing worse, I hastily back up until there’s no more surface on the stage left. My attackers move with me, and I only just escape them by hopping down, though a few bold ones do the same. On the ground, I am plunged into the chaos of the mob and soon lose those who are pursuing me as the crowd in the village’s center becomes even more frenzied.
Many, not realizing that most of my paintings are gone and that I’ve left the stage, are still trying to get to the dais. Others are turning on one another. Conversations are flying fast and furious, too difficult for me to follow all the signs. But I see certain things repeated over and over—lies, death, and food. It’s clear the majority of the people around me don’t believe what I’ve told them. They seem to think I concocted all this to save myself, and my heart sinks—not because they’d think so little of me but because they’ve become so enslaved by this system that they are terrified of breaking out of it.
There are a few, however, who seem to think there’s some truth to what I’ve said—but their support is almost detrimental. Some are those who’ve spoken out against the township before and are already angry and looking for a fight. They begin arguing with those who think I’m lying, and I am aghast to see actual physical altercations break out. I try to tell myself it’s all because my people are hungry and scared, that the uncertainty of the last day’s events has left them panicked and unsettled. But it’s still hard to see them degenerate into this madness, turning on one another when it’s imperative we stand together against the township.
Through the chaos, I see Zhang Jing at the back of the crowd, mostly out of the way of any danger. She is standing there wide-eyed, rooted to the spot with fear. Her gaze meets mine, and I quickly tell her, Wait, I’m coming. I don’t know if she understands, as two people in a shoving match stumble into me, knocking me to the ground. My body, already sore, hurts more than it should from the impact, but I manage to scramble to my feet before I get trampled. I’ve lost sight of Zhang Jing, but I nonetheless doggedly head in the direction I last spotted her.