by Jeff Stone
“Are you sure you trust me?” Hú Dié asked.
“No. But do it, anyway.”
Hú Dié lowered her eyes and got to work. We finished transferring the dragon bone to the bag; then she walked out of the office to take one last look at Ryan while I put the bag into the backpack.
I slung the pack over my shoulders. “Are you ready?”
Hú Dié didn’t reply. I heard a door open.
I walked out of the office, expecting to see her heading out of the lab. Instead, I saw Murphy. The tall, wiry Texan raised his massive revolver and leveled it at my chest.
“Fixin’ to go somewhere?” he drawled.
I stared across Dr. V’s lab at the gaping barrel of Murphy’s gun. He stepped into the lab with his revolver raised, and I caught a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye.
It was Hú Dié. She had been hiding, pressed up against the inner wall of the lab, near the door. She let loose one of her banshee wails, and her iron forearms slammed down onto Murphy’s gun arm. I heard bones crunch. The gun hit the floor with a clatter, and Murphy’s pain-filled grunt was cut short by a dull thud as Hú Dié cracked him on the temple with a hammer fist. Murphy crumpled to the ground, but his eyes remained half-open.
“Get something to tie him with!” Hú Dié said. “Quickly! He’s still semiconscious.”
The only thing I saw that might do the job was the wires connected to Ryan. I ran over to him and tore every last one free from the adhesive pads attached to his chest and forehead.
Ryan stirred and opened his eyes for a moment, then closed them again. I held my breath, watching him closely. The muscles above his dan tien twitched a few times, but other than that, his breathing was regular.
“Phoenix, hurry!” Hú Dié said.
I yanked the long wires free from the machines in a flurry of sparks and took the wires to Hú Dié. Together we tied up Murphy. When we’d finished, we rushed into the dining area and saw that Dr. V was still unconscious.
“Should we tie him up, too?” Hú Dié asked.
“Might as well,” I said. “Better safe than sorry.”
Hú Dié yanked the power cord from the base of the blender and tied Dr. V’s hands behind his back while I went into the training area and disconnected my bike from the stationary trainer. We ran down the long corridor to the workshop and were greeted with a disturbing sight. Someone had moved Lin Tan and Bjorn’s pickup truck into the shop. There was a lumpy tarp draped over the pickup’s bed, and it took little imagination to guess what lay beneath it.
Neither Hú Dié nor I said a word. We just grabbed new helmets from the shelves and strapped the lids onto our heads. Hú Dié lowered the seat on Ryan’s bike and climbed on.
“Aren’t you going to adjust the handlebars, too?” I asked.
She leaned forward and checked the fit. “These are close enough. I want to get out of here. I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life.”
“Will your shoe brackets connect with that type of pedal?”
“Yes. I’m good.”
I leaned my bike against the workbench and walked over to the roll-up bay door that led to the outside. I started flipping through keys, and Hú Dié said, “It’s a little gold one. I watched Murphy lock up before we went to Austin. There are actually two locks, one on each side of the door, but they use the same key.”
I found the key and opened the locks; then I pressed a garage door opener button mounted to the wall. A motor moaned and creaked to life overhead, and the door began to rise, letting in the morning sun. I was about to head for my bike when I heard a low growl outside.
I looked back to see Murphy’s dog, Bones.
“Oh, crap,” Hú Dié said.
“Nice doggy?” I said.
The big dog growled again, and I saw the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
I didn’t move a muscle.
“You didn’t happen to grab anything from Murphy, did you?” Hú Dié asked.
“No,” I replied, trying to keep my voice calm and even. “And it’s probably a good thing I didn’t. Remember how Murphy said his dog didn’t like people messing with his property? But I wouldn’t mind holding his gun right now.”
“I hid the gun up high in one of the wall cabinets while you were getting the wires. He’ll never find it. We tied him up, though. Do you think the dog can smell his scent on us?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t plan on getting close enough to him to find out.”
The door stopped, fully open, and Bones took several steps toward me. The dog sniffed the air. His eyes narrowed.
I took a step backward, and the dog began to bark ferociously.
“Bones!” a voice suddenly drawled from within the training facility. “Here, boy!”
Bones stopped barking and tilted his head as if listening.
“Bones!” Murphy hollered again from the lab. His voice was faint but clear. “Here, boy! Here, boy!”
Bones yowled and raced toward his master’s voice. The dog shot through the open door leading to the long corridor and was out of sight.
I grabbed my bike and adjusted the pack on my back; then I looked at Hú Dié. “We’d better jet.”
She nodded.
I jammed my feet into my pedal cages and heard Murphy holler, “Yee-haw! Chew me loose, boy! We’re goin’ huntin’!”
I blasted out of the workshop with Hú Dié riding close behind, and my fatigued legs immediately reminded me that I had just ridden hard for hours on the stationary trainer. My body wasn’t pleased.
“Which way?” Hú Dié asked.
“Cross-country,” I replied, heading for the cyclocross course. “If Bones can chew half as strong as Murphy claims, Murphy will be in his truck in minutes. He would catch us on the ranch road before we even reached the gate.”
“Can a hunting dog follow the scent of bike tires?”
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling we’re going to see soon enough. Stay close.”
I reached the cyclocross course and followed it for a few hundred yards; then I left the course and plowed straight into dry ankle-high grass, making a beeline for the hills. The uneven ground turned my fully rigid cyclocross bike into a bucking bronco, but I managed to stay in the saddle. I glanced back at Hú Dié and saw that she was keeping pace, which was good. I also saw a small cloud of dust rushing toward us from the training facility, which was bad.
It was Bones.
I feathered my brakes, slowing slightly. “Hú Dié,” I said, “Bones is coming. You go on ahead, into the hills. I’ll try to lose him.”
“Are you crazy?” she replied. “You can’t outrun that dog over this ground. You probably couldn’t even do it on smooth pavement. He’s huge.”
“I’ve got to do something. He’s going to run us down, anyway. Get out of here, now! He can only chase one of us, and I want it to be me. I’m the stronger sprinter and you know it.”
Hú Dié huffed her disapproval, but she picked up her pace. I slowed further.
I’d been chased by unleashed dogs more times than I could count while riding on mountain bike trails, and I knew that road bikers who favored back roads in rural areas had it even worse. Defensive strategies included everything from handlebar-mounted cans of pepper spray to squirting dogs in the eyes with your water bottle. I had neither, so I decided to try a trick that had saved my ankles on more than one occasion.
I shifted to an easy gear and kept my pace steady, allowing Bones to get an accurate sense of my speed as I pedaled ahead of him. When the dog neared, he began to bay as if he were hot on the trail of a rabid raccoon. I concentrated, mentally calling up what little energy reserves I had left.
Bones opened his jaws wide, and I fought the urge to kick him in the face. That would be like sticking my foot into the mouth of a hungry lion. Instead, the instant I sensed the dog was about to snap his jaws shut, I hammered with all my might.
I sprinted forward, my abrupt change in speed throwing off Bones’s
attack. The dog’s jaws closed on thin air, and he stumbled. Unfortunately, he didn’t go down like most dogs do. The seasoned hunting dog regained his footing and began to pick up speed.
I realized I didn’t stand a chance. My exhausted legs were already beginning to give out. I looked ahead toward Hú Dié and saw that she was turning around.
“What are you doing?” I shouted.
She didn’t answer. She completed her turn and began to hammer in my direction. I glanced back and saw that Bones was nearly upon me, even though I was still riding fairly fast.
“Cut hard to your right on three!” Hú Dié cried.
I looked up and saw that she, too, was coming straight at me. She reached down and grabbed the emergency tire pump that was attached to the down tube of Ryan’s bike. The pump was roughly the size and shape of a nightstick.
“One!” Hú Dié shouted. “Two! Three!”
I cut my wheel hard to the right, and Hú Dié barreled past me just inches away on my left. She swung the tire pump down with her left hand, whacking the dog hard across his hips before it could clamp down on me.
Bones stumbled in a tangle of legs, dust, and fur before tumbling end over end, as Hú Dié slammed on her brakes.
I turned my bike around and headed for Hú Dié. I watched in horror as Bones jumped to his feet and began to stalk toward her. The dog was snarling viciously, lines of saliva cascading from his jowls.
Hú Dié climbed off Ryan’s bike and crouched behind it, holding the bike in front of her like a shield. She switched the tire pump to her right hand, raising it like a club. Was she actually going to war with this huge dog?
I heard a piercing whistle in the distance, and Bones froze in his tracks. I looked toward the training facility and saw a massive cloud of dust heading our way. I also heard hooves pounding against the dry earth.
“Murphy is coming!” I shouted to Hú Dié. “He’s riding Theo!”
Hú Dié glanced back toward Murphy, while Bones remained still as a statue, his eyes locked on Hú Dié as though she were a treed opossum.
Murphy approached, and I saw that he held a length of rope in one hand. He began to swing the rope over his head, and a loop formed in midair. He was planning to lasso us like stray calves.
I considered what I knew about horses and bicycles. On multi-use trails, bikers were legally required to yield to horses because horses were instinctually prey animals. To a horse, a bicycle racing toward it was no different from a bear or wolf.
I was still pedaling, so I steered toward Theo and willed my legs to give me all they could. As I neared the horse, Theo’s black eyes widened with terror. Murphy tossed aside his lasso and gripped the horse’s reins with both hands, and I rose out of my own saddle, pulling up and back on the handlebars.
My front wheel lifted into the air a few feet from Theo, and the horse lost his mind. He reared up on his back legs, pawing at the air with his powerful front hooves. Murphy was tossed from his saddle, the reins slipping from his hands. I shifted my weight forward and leaned to the side, slamming my front wheel back down to the ground while swerving around the frightened animal. I managed to hold my line without falling off the bike.
I looked back and saw that Murphy had landed on a pile of rocks, probably headfirst. It didn’t look as if he would be getting up anytime soon. That was what he got for not wearing a helmet.
Bones yelped and ran over to his master as I headed for Hú Dié. Theo bolted into the hills.
Hú Dié climbed back onto Ryan’s bike and was clipping into the pedals when I reached her.
“That was genius!” she said.
I nodded. “You weren’t so bad yourself. I guess I owe you one.”
“Not a chance. I am so far in the hole with you, I might never see the light of day. I—” She stopped in midsentence and stared toward the training facility parking lot. “I don’t believe it. Murphy must have woken Dr. V and cut him loose.”
I turned and saw a black SUV lurching over the uneven ground toward us. I felt a welcome burst of adrenaline. My weary legs were going to need it. “Follow me!” I said. “I think I know a way to lose him.”
I rode hard back toward the cyclocross course, reaching it near the first hill with Hú Dié at my side. We blasted over the hill together and cruised along until I saw what I was looking for—the narrow side trail I’d noticed when I’d raced against Ryan. I hoped it would be too narrow for the SUV.
I turned onto the trail, and Hú Dié asked, “Where does this lead?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you have that GPS unit with you?”
“No. It wouldn’t help us, anyway. It only contained maps of China.”
Hú Dié cursed, and I heard an engine roar.
“We should split up!” Hú Dié called out. “You stay on the trail.”
“No!” I said. “You stay on the trail. I’ll risk going off-road.”
Hú Dié began to argue, but I pulled off the trail first. I raced parallel to her for a bit to see what Dr. V would do, when suddenly Hú Dié screamed and went sailing through the air over her handlebars. It was as though an invisible force field had stopped her bike while she continued forward.
I cut my wheel hard to the right and slammed on my brakes, skidding sideways over the packed ground. I pulled my right foot free of its pedal cage and rammed my heel into the earth, bringing my rear tire around 180 degrees so that I was now sliding backward.
BOOM!
My rear tire exploded upon impact with a barbed-wire fence that I didn’t see but guessed was there because of what had happened to Hú Dié. My bike came to an abrupt halt, but I managed to keep myself clear of the fence.
I stepped out of the other pedal cage and threw the bike down, then carefully slipped between strands of wire that were obscured by a row of scrub trees and bushes. On the other side of the fencerow was an enormous farm field. I could see towering irrigation equipment and mile after mile of waist-high green plants. I ran to Hú Dié, who was lying on a bed of what I supposed were soybeans.
She groaned and sat up. “What happened?”
“You hit a barbed-wire fence,” I replied. “I didn’t see it, either, until I was right on top of it. Did you break anything? Are you cut?”
Hú Dié quickly looked herself over. “I’m fine.” She patted one of the dense green plants beside her. “These really helped cushion my fall. The earth here is nice and soft, too. Is Dr. V—”
The approaching roar of the SUV’s engine answered any questions about the location of the black truck. I watched through the fencerow as the vehicle cruised parallel to the fence before reaching a gap between two trees and crashing through. The SUV turned toward us and tore across the farmland, moist clumps of soil churning up from beneath the truck’s knobby four-wheel-drive tires.
I ripped the pack from my back and pulled out the shimmering silk bag of dragon bone. I stepped in front of Hú Dié and held the bag before me like a talisman.
Dr. V slammed on the SUV’s brakes, and the truck slid over the slick vegetation before stopping thirty feet from Hú Dié and me. He leaped out with his rifle raised.
I glanced over at Hú Dié and heard a shout: “IT’S PAYBACK TIME!”
I turned back to Dr. V, but he was no longer looking in our direction, and I realized that he hadn’t spoken.
It was Ryan.
The big kid was racing toward us all atop Dr. V’s cyclocross bike. He was shirtless, but he wore a helmet and riding shoes. He had crossed through the gap in the fence made by Dr. V’s SUV.
As Ryan bore down, he roared like a lion. I prepared to leap to my left to avoid his charge when, inexplicably, he veered right. I watched in utter confusion as Ryan plowed straight into Dr. V. The force of the impact knocked Dr. V flat onto his back, sending the rifle sailing into the tree line. Ryan had already unclipped his feet from the pedals, and as he ditched the moving bike on top of his uncle, the chain slipped off. However, the bike’s pedals and large drive sprocket c
ontinued to spin, digging into the side of Dr. V’s head and leaving him unconscious in a pool of blood.
Ryan’s momentum kept him sailing forward until he slammed into the ground. Hú Dié and I rushed to his side, and I expected to find him out cold, but instead he was thrashing about, clawing at his bare abdomen. He was shivering despite the warm morning air, and the flesh across his dan tien was undulating wildly, as though something were attempting to crawl out of his body. His eyes were blurry and his gaze was unfocused, but he managed to turn his head toward me and gasp, “Phoenix, make it stop. Please.”
“Hang in there, Ryan,” I said. “We’ll get help.”
Ryan took several deep breaths, his stomach still spasming.
“This is bad,” Hú Dié said.
I glanced over at Dr. V. Amazingly, he was still breathing.
“We need to call 911,” I said. I pulled Dr. V’s cell phone from my pocket and made the call, describing the facility’s location as best I could with Ryan’s help. The dispatcher said it would be twenty minutes before help arrived, because our location was fairly remote. I thanked her and hung up.
Ryan looked at his uncle, then looked away. “Is he going to make it?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Dragon bone is mysterious stuff. You do know he was taking it, right?”
“Yeah.”
Hú Dié stood. “We should go back to the facility before the police and ambulances arrive, Phoenix. Maybe you should wait here, Ryan.”
Ryan shook his head. “I’d rather not be alone right now.”
“What about your uncle?” I asked.
“I don’t think he’s going anywhere. Besides, we can’t do anything for him. I also need to open the front gate. My uncle has a hidden switch in his office that’s difficult to describe.” Ryan grunted and stood, his stomach roiling as though it was cramping and uncramping. He was tough. He began to jog quickly, but in an awkward, hunched-over posture, clutching his stomach.
I shoved the silk bag filled with dragon bone into the backpack, and Hú Dié and I chased after Ryan. When we caught up with him, I said, “Thanks a million, Ryan. We owe you big-time.”