go the same way

Chapter 10

Nie Xunqiu's brain recovered and he recognized that she was Rachel, a member of MSF's New York office.

He sat up straight from the sofa and replied, "It's okay. Where are you going this time?"

Hearing the rustling noise, Rachel apologized: "Medellin, doctor. Did you wake up just now? I thought you were still in China."

There is no time difference between Baltimore and New York. Rachel chose to call late at night, probably because he thought it was daytime in his city.

"I've been back to Baltimore for almost a month, when are you leaving?"

Nie Xunqiu's voice was a little downcast, which made her worry: "We will train other doctors in a week. This time it is not a long-term task. There are still a few locally registered anesthesiologists in the hospital that accepts us. Your workload will not be very heavy. Doctor Nie, logically speaking, we do not support volunteers going to the front so frequently. You have been stationed in Angola for seven months... We think you may have been overdrawn, which caused The psychological pressure is unusual, if you need it, it doesn’t matter if you don’t go this time, we can provide you with psychological counseling at any time.”

Generally speaking, the working hours of surgeons and anesthesiologists are more flexible than other types of volunteers. The organization does not have such strict requirements on the time limit for them to perform tasks. The usual practice is to integrate the project and send it to the doctor's mailbox. Then it is up to the doctor to make a decision based on his own condition. The reason why Rachel called was because Nie Xunqiu made it clear that if there is another action in a short period of time, whether it is going deep into a war zone or a place where an epidemic occurs, he is willing to go again.

At that time, he didn't think too much, just thought that it would be good if volunteering was regarded as a lifelong career.

He didn't know where he came from, he had been wandering for half his life, and he didn't need a safe place to return to.

When he received a call from his adoptive father and daughter at the station, he had just undergone three surgeries in a row. The stubble on his chin was severe, and his ankle was swollen from standing for a long time.

At that time, Li Huisheng went to a ranch in Oakland for inspection. On the way back to the urban area, a series of car accidents occurred. The impact caused his spleen to rupture and hemorrhage in the abdominal cavity. After being sent to the first aid, he was briefly sober. Then he passed away suddenly.

Nie Xunqiu didn't feel much in his heart, probably because of being overworked, he staggered a bit and was supported by the nurse at the side.

He briefly asked about the time when his adoptive father left. The other party said that it was a week ago, and now it was time for the funeral, and asked if he would come back to attend.

He thought for a moment, thinking of the few beds of patients in the simple intensive care unit, he couldn't speak in a hoarse voice.

The other party was silent for a few seconds, expressing understanding.

Neither Nie Xunqiu nor his sister in the legal sense thought that Li Huisheng would dispose of his property in this way. Most of the donations, 20.00%, were left to his own daughter, and the rest were given to his eldest nephew who hadn't seen him for many years.The successful woman who already has her own business doesn't care about her father's legacy. She respects Li Huisheng's last wish and actively contacts the lawyer.

At that time, his heart could not stop itching, and the idea of ​​returning to China flashed in his mind countless times. He wanted to see what Li Pei, who was far away in China, looked like now, and whether he was with his dearest brother. Live a secure life.

He didn't intend to bother, he just wanted to take a glimpse from afar.

But the first second he met Li Pei's gaze, he wondered whether this person, like himself, miraculously got another chance to live another life after death.

He was in such a mess that he even forgot that his job was special, and he wanted to stay naively. Before he had time to try again, Li Pei had already revealed his hole card, and impatiently drew the line, making a clear distinction.

That's right, whoever experienced the years of deception and betrayal would not talk to him calmly.

I was still a little too impatient, a little stupid, and lied.

In fact, after waiting for so many years, he should have looked down on this day and night.

Nie Xunqiu said: "It's okay, I cherish these experiences very much, they have made me grow a lot. I will still go this time, and please fax me the information."

"Wait a minute. Good night, Doctor."

After hanging up Rachel's phone, Nie Xunqiu touched the keys with rough fingers, and did not move until the backlight on the keyboard went out.Hearing the sound of the fax machine running, he stood up and turned on the light.We had a conversation in the dark. The previous training allowed him to quickly adapt to the light. He has already been familiar with the principles that need to be followed in action, and Rachel also understands it. Therefore, the materials sent are only two pages, which are concise and to the point.

Medellin, the capital of the Antioquia department in Colombia, is currently the city of ongoing crime.

The city was shrouded in violence in the 90s and [-]s. Drug lords and gangs controlled the city. Countless people worked for them voluntarily or under coercion. The notorious drug lord Pablo Escobar even became the spiritual leader of the people of Medellin. Infiltrate the government and become a member of Congress.

After Escobar was shot dead in 1993, Medellin, or the whole of Colombia, did not get better immediately.Clashes between paramilitary groups and guerrillas continued to erupt, and the civil war never stopped. Before the government and paramilitary groups reached a ceasefire agreement in late 2002, the exchange of fire between armed forces even spread to parts of Medellin.

Now that everything is on hold, MSF reasonably believes that Medellín needs their help.

Nie Xunqiu did not carefully read the background information and precautions listed above. Medellin is a place he is all too familiar with. He learned to speak, grew up there, and was taught to be an out-and-out cold-blooded machine.

Nie Xunqiu didn't have a name originally, which is understandable.

His mother was a Chinese who was tricked into boarding a ship with the intention of smuggling into the United States but failed. She gave birth on the ship, and the torture that lasted all night made her depressed and manic. The baby in swaddling was placed on the deck, and he plunged into the sea without a trace.

The whole boat was just sighing, but no one was really willing to pick up the baby, and the baby didn't cry, but just opened its black eyes, as if knowing that the world didn't give him a place of any size.

Not everyone is born with blessings and unconditional love.

He learned to crawl and walk on the boat. It was the sailors and the kind woman who gave him at least a way to survive, fed him, taught him language, and made him express his hunger for the first time.The sailors called him Everardo, with no surname and no special meaning. Giving the child a name was just a convenient way to call him to eat, bathe and sleep.

After docking in Colombia, the sailors took him back to his hometown of Medellin—then he was involved in a violent incident. Everardo watched the sailors being robbed with his own eyes, and the money he saved for a year was robbed. He was beaten to death for a reason.The prostitute with heavy make-up leaned against the door, smoking a cigarette and watching with a smile, and finally took the little fur ball keychain in the man's hand, which was a gift that the sailor bought for his daughter.She squatted down, and the scenery under her skirt elicited a whistle. She gave the middle finger to the group of violent madmen, and then skillfully blew a smoke ring on his face: "Is he your father?"

Everardo's appearance was different from the children here, the prostitute guessed it was not, but still asked the question amusedly.

The boy only had eyes on the gadget in her hand, and he shook his head.

"Tsk," the woman pursed her lips, looking mean, "that's so boring."

The group of criminals finished counting the banknotes and left in a frolicking manner. Everardo hesitated for a moment, walked up to the sailor, and gently pushed the man.

He didn't cry, because he felt that since the other party's eyes were still open, he should be able to stand up.

The boy grabbed the sailor's hand and tried to pull him up. He was so small and skinny that he slipped and fell.

Even so, he didn't let go.

"Boy, he's dead. Medellin is like this. There are too many unemployed people here." The woman reminded him aloud when she saw him in such a mess, and realized that he was still too young to understand what death was. Unemployed, "Die, you know, he won't get up again, it happens every day, but he's really unlucky, who let him have 90 pesos."

In a city facing structural economic transformation, a few hundred dollars can prompt a murder.

Everardo knelt on the ground, the rough ground scratched his knees, he didn't seem to hear the woman's words, he stretched out his small hand, caressing the sailor's eyelids, making him close his eyes anyway.

No crying or fussing, and there seems to be no grief in my heart, only the confusion of where to sleep tonight.

"What a ruthless boy," the prostitute sighed. "Want to come with me? I can feed you."

Everardo looked at the small keychain in her hand, stood up from the ground, slightly shivered, and held the corner of the woman's skirt, ignoring the pain of the wound.

A whore with no children and no lover had no expenses, and the only thing she liked was smoking.They live on the farthest mountain in Medellin. The poor can't afford houses, so they can only live further away. They have to climb hundreds of steep stairs every day. Women come back to sleep during the day and go out to "work" from afternoon to night. Everardo stepped on a chair and climbed up to the stove to cook for her, and washed her dresses that were full of smoke and bad smells. He had no entertainment, and he stood by the iron fence every day to watch the boys playing football on the flat roof. play.

Houses in Medellín always paint their walls with bright colors. Even in the slums, large blocks of color look warm under the sunlight.

The woman raised him for seven years with the money from the skin business. When Everardo was ten years old, she was infected with AIDS by a client. She began to have fever and colds, purple spots on her body, sunken cheeks and cloudy eyes.She gave up on herself, even if the slap she slapped didn't have any strength, she still pushed the boy away and punched and kicked him.

"Don't worry about me, boy, give me some dignity."

He should probably go.

In the spring, she closed her eyes forever on the bed she had been lying on for three months, and Everardo dressed her in the most beautiful dress, which she could no longer wear, and hugged her—the skinny she was light Like a cotton flower, a simple grave was dug for her on a hill further away from Medellin.

Medellin has a lot of flowers.

There is always one flower that can bloom for her.

He didn't continue to live in the home that lost his owner, and the only thing he took away was the little fur ball keychain, and he started his wandering journey.

In the mid-to-late 80s, the violence in Medellin escalated, and the power of drug dealers grew day by day. They bribed the police and officials, blatantly smuggled tons of drugs, and could even be called an export trade. The dollars they earned had nowhere to go. Go into the fields, light fires to keep warm, build houses, schools, and hospitals for the poor, they are loved by all, they let young men take up arms, issue communication equipment to children, exchange fire with narcotics agents when they are secretly operating, and ventilate drug dealers report.

In this city, all the absurdities are going smoothly. People can no longer distinguish justice. They only know that they are red-eyed, commit violence and massacre, and let the crazy business of the big drug lord go.

Everardo was too taciturn. When everyone participated in this violent carnival, he chose to stay away and went to the back kitchen of an American restaurant to wash dishes and french fries.The owner of the restaurant is an American. It seems that he has been given asylum here. No matter how arrogant the drug lord is, he does not want to cause international disputes. After all, the Colombian government supports extradition.

Extradition means that prison guards will no longer allow women and alcohol into their cells, and they won't be able to spend fancy holidays in them.

When Everardo was an adult, his height was over 1.8 meters [-]. He could carry a hundred catties of potatoes into the back kitchen every day, but because he didn't eat enough protein, he didn't have many muscles on his body, so he didn't look very aggressive.

Medellin is like spring all year round, and most of the time it is sunny and sunny.If it weren't for the constant explosion of conflicts, this would be a bright and beautiful city.

He served the guests as usual. The guest at the table by the window casually pinned his gun to his waist. He was a man in his 30s with a swollen face and a violent temper. The colleague who ordered for him didn't hear him clearly. Asked, and was slapped severely.

Everardo didn't want to, but he could see the man's face clearly.

—One of the murderers who killed the sailor.

The memory of death, whether it was a sailor or a whore, he remembered clearly, etched into his mind like a red-hot iron.

He went beyond his means and stepped forward as a hero.

The man's anger shifted and he fired at Everardo. He lifted the table, picked up the chair and threw it at the young man.

This was a one-sided battle. The little fur ball keychain that Everardo had been carrying with him fell to the ground. He curled up on the ground in embarrassment. And cute little things.

"What did I think it was? It turned out to be a little trash left by the old trash who was beaten to death that year. It's ridiculous. Do you want it? Bark twice like a puppy, and I'll give you this little ball." The man stepped on the ball. Hold his hand, bend down to pick up the key and keychain, "Don't dogs like playing with balls the most?"

Everardo suffered from dizziness for a short period of time, and almost lost consciousness when his hands were trampled under his feet. The surroundings were chaotic and noisy, but he was not surprised.

After all, this is Medellin.

He sneered for the first time, and then watched the arrogant man become terrified, as if he was surprised why his gun suddenly fell into his hands. Without hesitation, he put down the safety and pulled the trigger.

Once the first shot is fired, it is never possible to turn back.

The bullet hit the violent criminal's abdomen, and a big hole was instantly opened in the man's belly. Everardo pulled the man to the street, and fought back with punches with his trampled hands.

A hundred, he counted.

Maybe more, but back then he could only count to a hundred.

The next day, Everardo's name reached the dealer's ears.

Such a ruthless lunatic is a talent they must not miss.

The author says:

* There are references to background information about Medellin, mainly some articles published on search engines, and the American drama "Narcos", without direct references, all written in my own way.There is no need to delve into where there is a discrepancy with the facts.For MSF procedures, refer to the MSF official website.