by Crane
Fu growled and took a step back.
Hok gave Fu a cold glance. “Do it, Fu,” she said.
Fu handed the qiang over.
Ying slung one of the qiangs over his shoulder and pulled the second one tight across his chest.
“Follow me,” Ying hissed. “No matter what happens, do not stop walking.”
“What are we going to—” Malao began.
“No questions!” Ying snapped. He turned and walked away. Behind him, he heard the others scramble and follow.
When Ying reached the bend where he'd first heard the guards, he turned the corner without breaking stride. The smoke was quite thick now, still flowing toward the exit door. Perfect. The exit door was still open. He would no longer need the keys.
Ying stopped and laid the key ring down, then quickly looked over the qiangs. The pans were full of powder and the flints were locked firmly in place at the end of the hammers. He could only hope that each had a lead ball rammed down its barrel.
Ying slung one of the qiangs across his back, raised the other to his shoulder, and headed for the exit door.
Jeff Stone lives in the Midwest with his wife and two children and practices the martial arts daily. He has worked as a photographer, an editor, a maintenance man, a technical writer, a ballroom dance instructor, a concert promoter, and a marketing director for companies that design schools, libraries, and skateboard parks. He recently traveled to the Shaolin Temple in China and while there passed his black-belt test in Shaolin-do kung fu.
Copyright © 2007 by Jeffrey S. Stone
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eISBN: 978-0-375-89181-6
v3.0