Chapter 42Leaning up from the floor of the shinkansen toilet, Jamie c****d her arm and shot a stream of pepper spray straight at the short Korean. The bright orange goo slathered across his face like a poisonous orange snake. Startled, he wiped it downward—fatefully spreading it—and looked down at the orange resin cupped in his hand. In the second before it kicked in, he dropped Jamie’s stuff and looked at her. Jamie flexed against the duct tape and splattered another thick orange ribbon right across his eyes.
He dropped the backpack, the initial surprise over. He clawed at his face. His eyes and nose erupted in tears and mucus. He doubled over hacking and spewing and flailing his arms for a sink, for a towel, for toilet paper, but his hands found only useless air in the small compartment
