Tiger (Five Ancestors 1) - Page 43/47

“What!” Malao said, stomping his foot. “I'm talking about Hok!”

“Hok?” Fu said, surprised. “When did you see Hok?”

“I don't know. You know how easily I forget things. I just remember that I saw him a couple of times after you ran away from Cangzhen.”

“Ran away!” Fu said in disbelief. “I didn't run away. You guys did. I stayed and fought. I got the scrolls. You guys left me to fight, alone.”

“Not exactly,” Malao replied. “We all ran like Grandmaster said, but Hok and I circled back separately. I was just heading to the village now to help you. My new friends were showing me the way when they got hungry and decided to raid the caravan. I had no idea you were in the cage until I heard your voice.”

Fu didn't know what to say. He looked over at Malao, speechless. Malao seemed to read the look in Fu's eyes.

“You're welcome, Pussycat,” he said.

Fu lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet.

Malao scratched his small, bald head. “Hey, are those the dragon scrolls?”

Fu saw that one of the scrolls was poking out of his robe. “Yeah,” he said. “I have all four.”

“How did you get ahold of them?”

“It's a long story,” Fu replied. “A really long story.”

Malao laughed out loud. “That's pretty funny! Good one, Fu! Can I see one of those scrolls for a moment? I've always wondered what they look like.”

“Sure,” Fu said. “Just make sure you—”

As Fu reached into his robe, he heard a whoosh! and a quick clink!-clink!-clink! Malao's face hit the dirt as his feet were jerked out from under him by a chain whip.

“Come here, you little knuckle-dragger!” Ying snarled as he stepped out of a thick bush behind Malao, holding the chain whip. The deep grooves in his face seemed to slither under the strain as he began pulling Malao toward him, hand over hand. Several paces away, Fu was about to make a move when a battalion of well-armed soldiers appeared on the trail. Leading the group was a man with a long ponytail braid riding a raven-black stallion. Fu recognized the man immediately. Directly behind the horse, two men each carried one end of a long pole with something orange strung to it, hanging down, swaying as they walked. The swaying object was Hok. His pale wrists were bound together, and so were his ankles. The long pole passed beneath the bindings, and Hok hung from it like a hunting trophy. Fu paused to take it all in until Malao's cries brought him back to the moment.

“FU! HELP ME!”

With one great bound, Fu was at Malao's wriggling feet. He reached down and grabbed the chain whip, entering into a tug-of-war with Ying.

A series of piercing shrieks suddenly rang out from the treetops, and Fu turned to see the white monkey leading dozens of brown macaques toward Ying.

“FIRE!” Ying commanded, still holding fast to the chain whip. The soldiers raised their qiangs and shots rang out. Monkeys tumbled from the sky. A lead ball grazed the arm of the white monkey, and it screeched loudly, turning tail. The rest of the monkeys followed its retreat.

Ying laughed. “Fine fighting force you have there, Malao.”

“Finer than the men you lost at Cangzhen!” Fu growled as he continued to heave on the chain while Malao struggled to get free. “At least most of the monkeys … GRRRRR … escaped … ARRRRR … alive!”

Fu gave a tremendous jerk to try and get Malao a little more slack. Ying let go. Fu sailed backward, the chain whip slipping from his grasp. Ying leaped forward with his arms spread wide. He landed directly on top of Malao.

“Don't let him grab you!” Fu cried out to Malao.

But it was too late. Ying already had a crippling eagle-claw grip sinking deep into a pressure point on Malao's neck. Malao's entire body went limp. Lines of blood trickled down toward his shoulder as Ying's long fingernails dug in. Fu knew that he had to break that grip, or Malao would suffer permanent nerve damage.

Fu ran full-force into Ying's arm, breaking Ying's connection with Malao. Ying responded by latching on to the back of Fu's neck with his other hand with amazing speed. This time, it was Fu who went limp. Malao, still temporarily paralyzed, lay motionless. Ying lessened his grip on Fu slightly and removed the scrolls from Fu's robe with his free hand as he addressed his men.

“Did all of you see that? That is how you take care of business! Quickly, efficiently, decisively!”

Ying turned to Commander Woo, who sat in the weapons cart with the hatch open.

“COMMANDER WOO!” Ying said, pointing to Hok hanging from the pole. “Look what Tonglong has caught. There is your restless spirit from Cangzhen, hanging from that pole. He was the one you felt watching you, and he snatched the Grandmaster's body from beneath your nose. Hobble over there on your one good leg and untie the one called Hok so that he can walk. He's going on a little trip.