Tiger (17 page)

“Malao, it's me! Fu! Get me out of here!”

Malao jerked his foot up and the blanket went with it. He stuck his small, smiling face down between two bamboo bars running across the top of the cage. Beads of sweat dripped off his bald, dark-skinned head.

“Pussycat!” Malao said, giggling. “How did you get in there?”

“How did I get in here?” Fu said. “What are you doing up there?”

“I was—”

Malao disappeared. A soldier had grabbed his ankle and yanked him off the cage.

“Malao!” Fu cried as he found a seam between more blankets on the far side of the cage. He looked out and saw Malao twist and wiggle and kick and claw and bite, all at the same time. The soldier trying to hold on to him threw his hands up in the air and stepped back. Malao hit the ground and let out a shriek, leaping back up on top of Fu's cage. He tore the remaining blankets off and began to beat his chest like an angry ape, sending a piercing scream in the direction of the soldiers. The soldiers stopped and stared. Fu stared, too. He had never seen Malao like this before.

As Malao carried on, Fu slammed his hand against the top of the cage. “Hey, Monkey Boy! Remember me? Get me out of here!”

“Out! Out! Out!” Malao screeched as he jumped up and down atop the cage like one of the macaques, all the while slyly scanning the soldiers. A key ring glimmered in a soldier's hand, and Malao leaped at the man without hesitation. Soaring feetfirst through the air, Malao arrived with one leg on either side of the soldier's long neck. He locked his ankles behind the man's head and squeezed, scissor-style, while twisting his body to one side. The soldier folded in half sideways and choked, releasing the keys so that he could grab Malao's legs. The keys hit the ground the same time Malao did. Malao scrambled off the shaken
man and grabbed the key ring. Five men sprang on him at once.

Malao managed to throw the key ring between the men an instant before he was pounded into the earth. The keys sailed through the bars of the cage, right into Fu's lap. Fu began fumbling through keys as Malao got pummeled. In no time, Fu found a key that looked about right and reached his arm through the bars to try it in the lock. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a soldier running toward him with a spear.

Fu pretended not to see the soldier and didn't flinch until the moment the soldier thrust his spear. Fu dropped the keys and twisted gracefully to his left side, lifting his right arm high as the spear tip breezed underneath his armpit. As the soldier withdrew the spear, Fu bent his right elbow and clamped it down as hard as he could on top of the spear shaft. Then he gripped the shaft with his right hand and jerked his body powerfully backward. The soldier was not rooted and lurched forward with the spear, smashing his head against the bamboo bars. Fu lunged forward himself, grabbing the man's long black hair with one hand between the bars. Fu shoved straight down as hard as he could. There was a sharp crack as the soldier's nose shattered against a large stone. Still conscious, the man ripped his head away from Fu and screamed as a fistful of his hair remained in Fu's hand. A chunk of scalp dangled from the clump of hair. Fu dropped it in the dirt and stared hard at the man. The man grabbed the hairy clump and ran away. Fu got back to work.

Fu grabbed the keys, unlocked the latch, and threw the door up. Then he grabbed the spear the soldier had left behind and headed for Malao. But after only two steps, he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't believe his eyes. Monkeys were pouring out of the trees, leaping directly onto the heads, backs, arms, and legs of the soldiers on top of Malao. In no time, there was an undulating pile of more than fifty monkeys, clawing, scratching, and biting in unison. The men cried out in pain as more and more monkeys joined the savage attack, all of them abandoning their previous scavenging in the food carts in order to help Malao.

Fu had no idea what was going on, but he wasn't about to get close enough to that pile to find out. Instead, he looked for the skinny soldier with the scrolls and spotted the man standing next to one of the supply carts staring open-mouthed at the monkey pile. Fu ran directly for him.

The soldier saw Fu coming and did his best to brace himself for the attack. He assumed a defensive position with his spear held before him, holding his ground as Fu started swinging. Fu feinted high and swung low with his own spear, bringing one end around behind the soldier's knees. The soldier's legs buckled forward, and before he even hit the ground, Fu swiftly pulled the spear back and swung it up over his head and down, as though he were chopping wood with an ax. The spear shaft connected with the soldier's unprotected collarbone.
The spear was strong. The collarbone was not.

The soldier bellowed in pain as he crumpled to his knees. Fu slid one hand up his spear's shaft so that his hands were shoulder-width apart, then lunged forward with the spear before him, parallel to the ground. The shaft connected with the soldier's windpipe, and Fu leaned into it. The soldier toppled over backward as Fu hopped on top of the spear shaft, placing one knee on either side of the soldier's head, pinning the soldier to the ground by his throat. The soldier gasped for air. He was unsuccessful. As soon as the man was unconscious, Fu let up on the spear, spun around, and retrieved all four scrolls from the folds of the soldier's robe.

As he stood, Fu realized something. None of the remaining soldiers had come to aid the scroll-bearer. He looked around and saw that the screeching monkeys were now chasing all the soldiers off into the forest. Fu looked over at Malao and once again could hardly believe his own eyes.

Malao stood firm and straight as blood poured heavily out of both sides of his nose. He pointed at the fleeing soldiers with his arms outstretched, and the monkey troop pursued as if following orders. The five soldiers who had attacked Malao lay at his feet, their bodies scratched and clawed and broken. A large, snow-white, one-eyed monkey sat on Malao's shoulder.

Malao smiled at Fu and laughed out loud as he
lowered his arms and relaxed. The monkey seemed to laugh, too. Then it leaned forward as if to kiss Malao's bald head and scampered off into the trees.

“
W
hat was THAT all about?” Fu asked Malao, bewildered.

Malao casually leaned his small head back and pinched the bridge of his nose to slow the flow of blood out of his nostrils. “What was what?”

“The white monkey!” Fu said. “All the monkeys!”

“It's a long story,” Malao replied, shrugging his shoulders. “A
really
long story.”

Fu growled. He took a step toward Malao, then stopped suddenly and looked suspiciously up into the trees behind Malao. Malao giggled.

“Don't be a scaredy-cat,” Malao said. “You can approach me.”

“I'm not afraid,” Fu snapped. “I'm just… confused.
Did you command those monkeys to attack?”

“What did it look like?” Malao asked, flashing a devilish grin.

“I'm not in the mood for riddles,” Fu said. “If you're not going to answer my questions, just say so.”

Malao pouted. “Come on, Pussycat. Humor me. I save your life, and this is how you treat me?”

“You know how much I hate your games, Malao. I appreciate your saving me and all, but I'm really not in the mood. I don't want to get angry at you.”

“You appreciate me?” Malao said, grinning wide. He put his hand on his heart. “Really? Brother Fu, I'm touched!”

Fu growled again. “Don't push me, Monkey Brains.”

“That's
the Fu I know!” Malao exclaimed. “Welcome back!”

Fu closed his eyes and ground his teeth. “The Fu you know will never be back. I left him at Cangzhen.”

“Whoa, what's with all the drama?” Malao said. “Those villagers must have really worked you over.”

Fu opened his eyes and cocked his head to one side. “How do you know about the villagers?”

“A little bird told me.” Malao smiled.

“Stop screwing around, Malao.”

“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.

“
C
ome 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.