Second Chance

Chapter 18 - Ambushed!

When Jake saw Chin-ling, silent and depressed, standing before the grave of Master Muk Long, and gazing at the tombstone that bore the old monk’s name, he was not the least surprised. He knew she would come here sooner or later.

The sun was barely peeking over the mountains, and the silvery mist had begun to turn visible. Jake was already up by then. It seemed to him that he had only slept for a few minutes when he awoke to discover it was nearly dawn. He didn’t have a restful night’s sleep; he reckoned Wing-mun’s loud snoring must have something to do with it. After performing his morning ablutions, he decided to take a stroll at the creek before breakfast.

“Hello, Chin-ling,” he greeted her when he came to her side.

She looked over her shoulder to his direction and smiled. Jake noticed her thick white gown had soaked up the damp morning dew, and her eyes were glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks.

“I am truly sorry for your loss,” he said softly. “He was your father, wasn’t he?”

She nodded, though she looked a little surprised. “How did you know?”

“It doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“He was never a good father,” she began, her lips quivering as words slowly made their way out of her mouth. “He was always out of the house, sometimes for months, participating in uprisings with the other revolutionaries against the Qing government. When he saw what I’d become, he blamed my mother and left us, never to return. From that day onward, I hated him.”

She stopped speaking momentarily and took a deep breath.

“After he had become a monk, he tried to make amends for his misdeeds by frightening the townsfolk who were hunting me down,” she continued. “He told them that I was a witch unlike any other – I fed on human blood and I had a gigantic killer beast for an ally; he lied to protect me. At first they doubted his words but when they discovered huge foot-prints and corpses buried in shallow graves along the waterfall, they finally believed him and they stayed well away from the woods.”

She stopped speaking again and set her sights on the tombstone.

“Have you forgiven your father?” Jake asked at last.

“I … I don’t know, to be honest,” she stammered. “There were days when I wanted him dead for what he’d done to me, and to my mother – she went mad and had to be locked away; she died soon later. I wanted to put him in a pit and hear his cries as I shovelled rocks and mud on him, slowly suffocating him. Other days I would tell myself that my resentment towards him had caused me much unhappiness and pain; I had become my own prisoner. The only way to set myself free was to forgive him. For sure it wouldn’t change the past, but it would give us another chance to create a new beginning.”

“Chin-ling, I know this is not a good time to bring it up,” Jake said with much hesitation, “but I think you should be told of this: it was your father who killed my wife.”

“I know.”

It was Jake’s turn to look surprised. “You knew? Why didn’t you reveal it to me at your cottage the other night?”

Wiping away her tears, she raised her eyes to meet his. “That’s because I only found out about it on the day of his disappearance. He came to the creek and talked to the sky – he always did that whenever he was troubled. He didn’t see me and I overheard him saying his sordid past had come back to haunt him. He then mentioned your wife’s name and that he was blackmailed into killing her. His confession came as a big shock to me and I was so numbed that I could hardly think or eat for days after that.” She paused. “Find the mastermind, Jake. Avenge your wife … and my father.”

Having said that, she turned towards the woods and tottered away.

It was coming to eleven o’clock, and the day was beginning to turn bright and sunny. The monks and their guests, all packed and ready to go, stood beside the creek and took one last look at the monastery – it seemed sad and gloomy – before they bade each other farewell. Little Lung had been chosen by the other monks to be with Jake and Wing-mun while they returned to the Shaolin Temple. Fatty and Lanky, who had spent all their lives in Beijing, wanted to stay put in the city, so they asked to join the three men. But Little Lung rejected their request.

“Going after a killer is not a job for little boys”, he reasoned.

Not so easily discouraged, the twins made a case that they could cook, sing, and take care of the horses, and they promised not to get into anyone’s way. In the end, Jake, who had grown fond of them, agreed, much to their delight and relief.

Hardly had they mounted their steeds when one of the monks who was nearest to the monastery heard the sound of many feet rushing behind him. He turned around, squinted his eyes slightly then gasped in horror: Japanese soldiers, one after another, were rushing out of the back entrance, their rifles aimed at them.

“Run, brothers! The enemy is here!” he shouted before he was killed by a single shot to the head.

More shots rang out. Four of the other monks’ horses were hit but before the animals went down, the riders jumped out of their saddles. They replied to the fire with a lethal whirlwind of their swords and iron fists. But deep in their hearts, they knew their fighting skills, no matter how good, could never be an equal competitor for the deadly guns. Still they fought on with more resoluteness than ever. Eventually they were all felled, but not before taking twenty of the enemy along with them.

Little Lung slew seven; the number would have been higher if not for a bullet tearing through the right side of his chest and incapacitating him. Jake and Wing-mun fired until their guns were empty, killing a dozen troops between them. The twins kept their promise of not being a hindrance: sitting together on one horse with Fatty clinging to Lanky, they galloped to the trees for cover, both of them shivering in fear.

When the dust settled, Jake and Wing-mun were the only ones left standing and unhurt while the whole squad of Japanese troops lay dead. But this was not the end of it. The muffled sound of motor engines were heard; more enemy troops were arriving in trucks.

“Mun Gor, gather up our horses!” Jake called out. “Quickly now! We’ve got to get to the woods!”

The mobster did as he was told. Jake picked up Little Lung where he lay bleeding on the sandy ground and helped him mount up. The monk was breathing heavily as he held tightly onto the reins. His face was pale and the upper part of his coat was drenched in blood. But he persevered in spite of his grave injury. Indeed he was a man of uncompromising grit and determination.

“Lead the way, Jake,” Wing-mun said, as he gave his horse a kick. “Little Lung, you’re next. I shall be right behind you.”

A short distance away, when Fatty and Lanky saw Jake and the others racing towards their direction, they emerged from an old gnarled tree and waved at them. “We are here! We are here!” they cried. Their naivety had led them to believe that the danger was over.

“Move it, you two!” Jake hollered, as he shot past them. The urgency of his tone and the sight of only two riders alive behind him told them otherwise.

The twins’ knees shook, and they went after him in silence.

When Wing-mun looked back, two trucks carrying enemy soldiers were hot on their heels. There were so many of them that he lost count. Bullets were flying everywhere. Luckily, the many big tree trunks had provided him and his companions some protection. Realizing this, he breathed a sigh of relief.

They galloped on. Soon the sight of the Japanese troops became small and far away; as the thick woods proved impassable to big vehicles, they had to park their trucks at the hedge and continue the pursuit on foot.

“There’s a cottage beside the waterfall a few miles from here,” Jake said, slowing his horse down to a trot. “A friend of mine lives there. She can give us shelter. Furthermore, Little Lung needs medical attention.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Little Lung groaned, clutching his chest. “Let’s make our way to your tea plantation. I am all right.”

“No, you are not,” Jake insisted, staring at him. He understood the monk’s noble intentions, yet he was disinclined to allow it; Little Lung was losing a lot a blood.

“The waterfall … are you referring to that waterfall in Devil Falls?” Lanky asked, gawking at Jake. “Oh great Buddha, the witch dwells in that place! She will kill us all!”

“Stop scaring yourself,” Jake scoffed. “I was at the waterfall when you and Fatty first met me. You didn’t see me dead, did you? Anyway, I’ve told you all before: she is not a witch.”

“But …”

“Listen to the man, boy,” Wing-mun cut in. “He has no reason whatsoever to lie to us.”

“Hush, Lanky, and just follow Mr Lone,” Little Lung added.

Lanky was still unconvinced but he knew he could not get the better of the argument, so he suffered himself to be led. Fatty played it smart this time and kept quiet; he didn’t want to get rebuked again for his opinions.

As soon as they rode across the small clearing, Jake noticed the stream on the far side leading to the floor of the forest. They moved forward along it until it brought them under the trees. Here, they found themselves surrounded by big tree trunks; their barks rough and gnarled with age; and their leaves so thick and deeply shaded that sunlight could not pierce the forest-roof. There was a frosty chill in the air and a white mist rose like steam.

Jake stopped and looked about him – the place was dim and dreary. As he watched, he suddenly saw something dark pass across the brighter gap between two trees and then halt.

“Look over there,” Jake said, pointing with his hand. “What’s that?”

The others looked in the direction that Jake pointed out, but they could see little but a pair of red eyes. When the dark shadow finally appeared before them, they sat rooted on their saddles with terror staring at it: huge and with a menacing look, it was the Yeti!

“Do not panic, people!” a female voice called from behind. “Let her pass. I promise she will not harm you.”

Jake looked over his shoulder and saw Chin-ling.

“Yeti is my friend,” she reassured them. “I’ve asked her to help you and she has agreed. She is now going to meet the Japanese troops and discourage them from pursuing you.”

“Discourage them, eh?” Jake said with a slight chuckle. “Now this is the most eloquent word I’ve ever come across to describe her sending them all to hell if they don’t retreat.”

“Yes, something like that,” Chin-ling beamed. Then she turned her attention to the other men who were staring at the creature in awe. “So, gentlemen, if you don’t mind, please give way to Yeti. She has a job to do.”

The five companions quickly moved their horses to a corner. Yeti let out a low growl as she walked past them before disappearing into the fog.

Jake dismounted and went over to Chin-ling’s side. “How did you know we were in trouble?” he asked.

“Yeti and I heard faint gunshots coming from the monastery while we were fishing in the river,” Chin-ling replied, “and two nights ago I heard rumours that the Japanese army was about to attack Beijing. You don’t have to be a genius to figure out the rest.”

Their conversation was rudely interrupted when they heard a thud behind them. They turned around and saw to their alarm that Little Lung was lying flat on the ground after having fallen off his horse. He was silent and motionless, like he was dead!