Chapter Two: The Dead Man Knows the Way

It took Lin Mo ten minutes to establish that Zhou Yuan was not a hologram, and another five to accept that a dead man could feel cold. He tossed him the room's only blanket. Zhou crouched beside the heater while muddy water seeped from his shoes into the floorboards. Lin searched every public database. There was no obituary, accident report, or employment record bearing Zhou's name. “There was no crash in Changning Tunnel three years ago,” Lin said. “I know what hit me.” Zhou watched his fingertips fade translucent. “Plate Lan-A-0714. Driver had a scar over his left eyebrow. The truck carried burned paintings. It came against traffic and knocked four of us into the service lane.”