82 lines
12 KiB
JSON
82 lines
12 KiB
JSON
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"0": "Rain slashed down the darkened, narrow lane, intermittently lit by flashes of lightning. Lion paused, almost holding his breath, waiting for the peal of thunder. The storm had rolled up very suddenly, almost ruining his chances of keeping up with his quarry. If he had been trying to follow the man before he regained his sight, he would have completely lost the trail soon after the rain started. As it was, the merest glimpses of his target at a turn a few blocks ahead was all that kept him on track. \n\nHe still marveled at how strange his newly gained sight was. Fearful of losing his hard won edge, he practiced daily with a blindfold. At times, he felt comforted by blotting out this new riot of color and shape that assaulted him daily. Fear and discomfort had a lot to do with both the loss and recovery of his vision, he supposed. What was it Master Chiak had told him? Sometimes the eye witnesses a scene so horrible that the mind refuses to see. Well, he had been subject to many horrible revelations, lately, and doubted there was much with which he could not now cope. \n\nHe had followed Kwai Lo Shiang to the docks, then across one bridge after another, deep into Marsember's warren of canals and marsh. He stood in the lee of a building, back pressed into the brick, studying the one into which his prey had disappeared. It was a squat, gray, three story cube with narrow, grimy windows along the ground floor. It was surrounded by water on all three sides, so ancient its island had apparently subsided into the marsh. The surrounding canals were now flush to the foundation. \n\nThe only approach to the building was a narrow, stone bridge, arching up over the water on the south side of the building. Unfortunately that way was too exposed and therefore too risky. He contemplated the canal and shrugged. He drew back into a nearby door jamb and looked around. He spotted a ground floor window in what appeared to be an abandoned building, just a short sprint up the canal-side. He waited for the next lightning strike, then took off before the following thunderclap. He skidded to a halt and crouched beneath the window just as the thunder rattled the glass in its sill. \n\nHe examined the latch and drove a stiffened finger through the soft, rotten wood of the sill. He levered the latch open and slid the window open. He slithered through the window and tumbled onto the floor. He quickly stripped down to just his pants and took out a pair of cloth strips. He bound his rain slicked pants around his calves, to keep them from dragging while he swam, then hid the rest of his clothes under a pile of loose plaster and rubble. \n\nPeaking over the window sill, he watched the warehouse, eyes trying to pick out some detail through the soot stained windows. Shrugging, he dove over the sill at the next flash of lightning. Rolling he came to his feet in a crouch and dashed across the lane, to the lip of the canal. Without hesitation, he dove into the murky, black water, trying not to make a noticeable splash. He forced himself to stillness and floated slowly to the surface. He let his eyes clear the choppy surface, then started paddling to keep still. Drifting slowly across the water, he kept scanning the windows for any sign he'd been spotted. \n\nComing to the base of the building, he touched bottom on the slimey surface of the submerged islet. Crouching to stay mostly underwater, he made his way to the base of the bridge. He stopped to examine the front door, noticing the worn and cracked wooden sign next to the entrance. The black painted had faded to a pale gray, hard to distinguish from the sun faded wood, but he recognized the shape instantly. A lotus. \n\nSwimming under the bridge, he pulled himself up on the other side, hanging from the edge of the bridge. As quickly as he could, he heaved himself up and over the edge, and lay flat on the slick cobbles. He slid up to the door and pulled himself up into a crouch next to it. Examining the lock, he pulled a pick out of his waistband. He closed his eyes and set to work. A few secon
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"0": "The Search For Hu Bao Zhou (Part One)"
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