Aman used his legs like hell just to chase one man.
Rahman looked over his shoulder, but he wasn't about to lose this guy. Still, Rahman had something up his sleeve.
He slowed down, and Aman, filled with sudden optimism, thought he might actually catch him this time.
But Rahman spun around, pulled out a pistol, and aimed.
Aman dropped to the ground just in time before Rahman could pull the trigger.
Rahman resumed his run, muttering under his breath.
"He's a stubborn bastard. Carter forbade me to kill him... Sooo, huh. I wonder why he locked him up in that place in the first place."
He glanced behind, but Aman had disappeared.
After all that chasing and shooting tactics Rahman swore by it seemed to have worked.
"I think I lost him. Just need to get to my car."
Then, another gunshot rang out this time aimed at Rahman.
"He's here?" Rahman hissed to himself, ducking behind a wall.
He peeked out and caught a quick glimpse before being forced back into cover.
"MPAJA?... Why the hell are they attacking me? Fuckin Chink commies… They should be fighting the Japs, not me. Hell, I'm on the British side!"
Another shot.
"Damnit… like the Japanese aren't bad enough, now this? Looks like the British left some groups behind to be torn apart by the Japs even after abandoning this city… and now they shoot me first? That means I can shoot back, right? Even if we're on the same damn side."
Rahman peeked again, trying to figure out if they were MPAJA members or other else.
"Get out! You KMM bastard!" someone shouted.
"What?!" Rahman shouted back.
"You sold us out, you KMM fuck!" they yelled again.
"I'm not fuckin' KMM! Oi, chink! I'm part of the British force, damn it!" Rahman shouted, voice hoarse. He spat his throat burned from yelling. At least he confirmed it MPAJA consider their hate on KMM.
"You're not?" one of them asked.
"I'm fuckin' not! What makes you think I was? You guys MPAJA, right?" Rahman shouted, trying to clear up the mess.
"Oh, I see. We heard the Japs sent someone he's carrying a snub nose, helping KMM!" one replied.
Rahman finally stepped out. "That's not me! That's someone else! That guy"
"Rahman!" someone shouted from afar.
Aman was running toward them, gun in hand his snub nose revolver clearly visible.
"That's him!" Rahman pointed at Aman, then turned and ran again.
The MPAJA fighters looked between Rahman and Aman, confused but not stopping him.
"That the guy?" one muttered.
"He looks barely 20..." another noted, just as Aman reached them.
Without hesitation, Aman knocked them down. He didn't care they were in his way. He wanted Rahman. That was all.
But now he was being chased. The MPAJA men, seeing the snub nose and Rahman's accusation, opened fire.
Aman looked back. "Of course... now they're after me, too."
Rahman was getting farther away.
It was sinking in.
Aman made a choice this time, he chose to survive.
He stopped chasing and turned back toward the MPAJA men. Three against one.
Nothing can go wrong, right?
Rahman paused, expecting the group to stop Aman.
But Carter… Carter wouldn't want Aman dead. Whether he liked it or not, he had to help.
If they killed Aman, Carter would lose his shit.
He moved closer and saw two bodies already down.
One had his neck ripped open. The second had his eye gouged out Aman had shoved his finger into the guy's brain.
The third man looked ready to surrender.
Aman didn't wait. He shot him in the head.
Then he turned Rahman was standing there watch it he knew he should just run.
"You came back, huh? Checking on me?" Aman asked, eyes cold.
"Carter didn't say anything about this," Rahman muttered, turning and running again. "Fuck… he's insane. Why didn't he kill me yet?"
But he kept running.
Shooting each other wasn't the point anymore.
...
They both stopped.
"Ahhh, you're pretty stubborn," Rahman said, pulling out a cigarette. He lit it with shaking hands, coughed, then looked at Aman.
"You... damn... ahh, fuck," Aman groaned, wiping blood from his face.
They stared at each other.
"You're not gonna kill me," Rahman said.
"I am gonna kill you," Aman replied.
"You already would have if you could… I held myself back. Carter didn't let me kill you."
"What? Carter... He's the one who locked me up, right?"
"Yes. Not me. Fuck, ask whatever you want I'll answer. And yeah… sorry for dropping you in the sewer."
Aman walked up and grabbed Rahman by the collar.
"I don't even know anymore... what the hell is Carter?"
"Frankly, I don't know," Rahman exhaled. "I don't work for him. I just got a last-minute order some guy with a left eye like yours… named Carter. They said he's your boss for a while. Used to be an artillery officer. Then he went batshit insane killed Japanese officers, even some British ones then somehow got a job again."
"That doesn't make sense. Why put me there?"
"I don't know."
They stared at each other. Aman finally let him go.
"Huh, you're not gonna kill me, huh?" Rahman asked with a chuckle.
"No… Not yet."
"You killed those three."
They both looked at the bodies.
"Yeah. They tried to kill me first, so I struck back."
"You're one sick bastard. Carter never said" Rahman knelt by one of the corpses. "Did you bite his neck?"
Aman nodded. "Who were they?"
"MPAJA. Malayan People's Anti Japanese Army. Commies. Mostly Chinese. The British support them to disrupt the Japs."
Aman nodded. "Commies, huh."
Rahman nodded. "Yeah, they got some beliefs or something. I dunno." He laughed and lit another cigarette. This one trembled in his fingers. He was smoking too much.
"Am I free to go?" Rahman asked.
Aman looked at him. "You bastard, you know that? Being a British puppet must be niceb with your fancy car."
Rahman laughed. "You're damn right. I just wanna live comfortably."
"Hey… what about Latif? His mother sold me to you, didn't she? At least tell me it wasn't for greed."
"It's complicated. She and her husband… got labeled traitors a lot. But yeah, their son… he's a bit special in the head. And he's asthmatic."
Rahman started walking away
and then gunshots.
Rahman dropped. Shot clean through the chest.
Aman ducked and pulled his gun.
"I still had questions for him…" he muttered.
He peeked out—no shooter in sight. "I hate this kind of shit."
He waited.
No more gunfire.
Whoever it was they left?
He peeked again. Nothing.
Aman laughed to himself tired, bitter.
Now he had to head back.
Back to Mei Lian. Back to the others.
Latif would have to wait.