Spring 1990 – The Face That Lives

The soldiers raised their rifles and fired. The bullets simply passed through the body as if through traveling through mud.

Clearly understanding that their weapons were useless, they attempted to flee. Xiǎo měinǚ reached out and caught a soldier each liquid hand. I heard the sound of cloth and flesh burning in her acid grasp. She held them only long enough to slam them into the walls of the tomb. She lunged forward again.