Warren Murphy - The Last Dragon

Before the bullet track could cross Remo's chest, Remo drove two fingers into the back of the unprotected skull, just under his green beret. They came out clean. The two holes squirted blood and thick matter, but Remo had already moved on.

The Master of Sinanju took hold of a neck in one bird claw hand. He squeezed. The flesh surrendered and then he was holding the hard bones of a man's spine. The bones proved no more resistant than the flesh, and the man struggled briefly then hung limp in the Master of Sinanju's grasp.

Chiun dropped him onto the growing pile of bodies and turned to another foe. This one was walking blindly in the darkness, his eyes so wide they threatened to pop from his fear-struck skull. He was sweeping his weapon around, prepared to execute shadows.

Except that he could not even see shadows.

So the Master of Sinanju gave him a voice to shoot at.

"I know something you don't know," he taunted.

The weapon muzzle shifted and erupted in angry challenge.

But the Master of Sinanju had already stepped behind the man, saying, "You missed. As I knew you would."

The man whirled. His bullets peppered the walls and shook hay down from the rafters.

"Damn!" he cursed, removing an ammunition clip and replacing it with a fresh one. He had drawn close to the great tail that lay uncoiled the length of the floor, unawares.

"You may try again, blind one," Chiun squeaked.

This time the man stopped in his tracks and pivoted, firing.

The Master of Sinanju effortlessly dipped under the stream of crude metal. He came to his full height once more, his voice a strident bell.

"You are defenseless now."

"Says you." And the gunman got off a final shot. One bullet. The round struck the hauler, ricocheted twice, and struck the Apatosaur in the thick meaty part of the tail.

The tail twitched in the darkness, and blood oozed.

Seeing this, the Master of Sinanju gave a cry of anger.

"Aiieee!"

His sandled feet left the ground floor in a leaping kick. One foot caught the gunman in the head, imploding his blind, fear-strained face. The Master of Sinanju landed gently on the body as it struck the floor.

Then he stepped off the quivering hulk to examine the injury done to the ugly African dragon whose bones meant long life.

Skip King was staring into a darkness that seemed to be staring back at him. His mouth felt dry.

"Somebody," he croaked. "Anybody. Turn on the lights. "

Somebody did. The hauler's headlights blazed suddenly. They made the back of the barn a cauldron of white light and tall shadows.

Skip King stood on the edge of the loft, blinking into the cold reptilian gaze of a backlit serpentine head.

"Oh shit," he said.

Nancy called out, "Remo! Are you all right?"

"Who do you think turned on the lights?"

"Thank God."

"Somebody tell this thing to stop looking at me like that." King said in a voice that was unnaturally low. "He's all right. Thank God he's all right," Nancy sobbed.

"Uh-oh," said Remo.

Nancy started. "What?"

"Old Jack caught one in the tail."

"Bad?"

"Looks like a scale wound, or something. It doesn't seem to be bothering him. It's just standing here."

"It's looking at King."

"I don't like the way it's looking at me," King said. "It's creepy."

"You'd better get back," Nancy warned.

"Why?"

"Because it's been shot in the tail. It could go berserk at any time."

"Wouldn't it already be berserk?" asked King in a dazed voice. He was just standing there, like a jumper on a ledge.

"The Apatosaurus is so long that nerve impulses have to be relayed along the spinal column through an organic relay near the tail," Nancy said. "Like a booster station."

"What does that mean?"

"It's been hit in the tail. But doesn't know it yet. When the pain reaches the brain, there's no telling what will happen."

"Oh," said King, talking a step backward. He took another.

Then the placid goat eyes staring at him flared. The Apatosaur suddenly acted as if it had whiplash. It reared up, a titan of black-and-orange flesh, on its rear legs. The forefeet hanging before it, it thrashed its long neck about the barn, banging its head and snout against the rafters like a snake in a box. Wood splintered and showered down.

Harrdunk. Harruuunkk. Harruunkk.

"Oh shit," said King.

The fit of pain was over quickly. Still balanced on its rear legs, the head righted itself, and eyes questing, its crazed gaze fell on one figure.

The head dipped, looming closer, every tooth in its yawning mouth exposed.

Nancy tried to roll out of the way. King stumbled back.

"Don't hurt me! Don't hurt me!" he was screaming, waving the orange snout away.

His heels encountered an obstacle. He looked back and saw Nancy, lying there, all but helpless.

Skip King knew opportunity when he saw it. He pulled Nancy to her feet and got her in front of him, trying to use her as a shield.

"King! Let go, you jerk!"

King cowered behind his prisoner. "Don't let it get me, Mommy! Don't let it get me!"

The head snaked down, a splash of orange with blazing eyes.

Frantic, Nancy brought her heels down on King's feet. They dodged. In her ears was King's voice screaming-inarticulately now.

The scream was cut off as if by a blow. The snap of great teeth coming together sounded over her head.

King's grip suddenly went away, and Nancy knew to duck.

Looking up, she beheld Skip King, arms and legs jittering, being carried away. His head was in the Apatosaur's mouth and it had closed. The rest of him dangled like so much clothed meat.

As she watched, the creature threw its head back, upending it. And Skip King went down the long gullet like so much cabbage.

Nancy watched in blue-eyed horror, then turned her head away at the sight of King's tasseled loafers slipping from sight.

Remo was at her side a moment later, his strong fingers shredding her bonds.

"You okay?" he was asking.

"What about Jack?" Nancy asked in a shaken voice.

"I was hoping you had some ideas."

The Apatosaur was gyrating its long neck, trying to get the too-large morsel down. It wasn't succeeding. It moved its rear legs clumsily, trying to hold on to its precarious balance.

"It's going to choke! Can't we do something?"

Remo called down. "Chiun-any suggestions?"

Chiun's voice floated up. "Do not fear."

And the Master of Sinanju was suddenly a fluttery shape on the creature's great dappled back. He leaped onto the neck with the agility of a monkey seizing a coconut tree bole. And like a monkey, he climbed to a point just under the jaw hinge.

There, Chiun took hold of either side of the reptile's muscular throat and gave a hard twist. The crack of vetebra was audible.

"No!" Nancy screamed.

"Damn," said Remo.

The serpent's head came down, dropped its uneaten meal, and raced it to the floor.

Every rafter and roof shake shook off dust and grit when the monster slammed into the floor.

The Master of Sinanju leaped off the collapsed carcass to land on the floor. He paused, inserted his fingers into the sleeves of his kimono, and regarded the two pairs of horror-struck eyes-Remo's and Nancy's-with unconcern.

"It is done," he intoned. "The beast has been quelled. I await my deserved reward."

Chapter 25

"It is not dead," intoned the Master of Sinanju when they climbed down to join him at the Apatosaur's side.

Nancy's eyes, hot with tears of anger, went to the creature's head. She placed a hand in front of its nostrils. They grew instantly moist and warm.

Then she buried her head in its orange forehead and sobbed in immense relief.

"It was only a realigning of the spine, producing unconsciousness," Chiun announced.