Part 36 (2/2)

Jake returned his attention to the shuriken thrower. Tried to ignore the bees moving busily through the field of flowers beside his head.

He kept himself very still. When he decided to move he did so with extreme caution and slowness.

The garden had about it a certain tempo as the light breeze took leaves, certain small branches and set them to moving. Any deviation in that tempo would, he knew, bring instant attention to himself. The idea was to sink in to his surroundings, chahm hai, as Fo Saan had taught him. Yet all his training revolved around ba-mahk. If Jake could no longer reach out and be in touch with the eternal cosmic pulse of things then all avenues were closed to him.

Still, he did what he could to blend in with his surroundings. It wasn't enough. The slither of the chain caused him to turn his head but the manrikigusari was already around his neck in makiotos.h.i.+, the terminal strangle attack.

The first thing was to keep the hands down, away from his neck. The organism's first jibbering response would be to get its hands up to free the neck. This would be a mistake because there was no way for bare hands to break the drop-forged steel chain. Precious seconds would be wasted while the attacker applied even more pressure. Death would surely follow.

Took a deep breath. Used the boar, a rib atemi, an edge-of-the-hand percussion blow that required him to perform a quarter-turn twist to his left. This severely restricted his windpipe. But the breath was already inside him and he used his full strength, aided by the organism's knowledge that death was near. Used the animal fear, rearing its head like a spur, as he had been taught, letting it pump excessive amounts of adrenaline into the system.

Twisted now to his right, delivering a boar to that side, and quickly, again, feeling three ribs give as the heat on his face became almost unbearable, the chain beginning to stop the blood flow to the brain and Jake knew that this was strictly shunt-ended, very little time before the sparkling lights sprang up before his eyes and the lack of oxygen clouded his judgment or, worse, affected his coordination.

The Yakuza slipped to his knees, bringing Jake down with him. But his training was extraordinary and even with three ribs shattered he would not let go, he was still positioned directly behind Jake where it was very difficult to get anything done against him.

Time was critical now. Lungs burning and he was experiencing consciousness slippage, aware of the sunlight filtered onto one leaf, suprareal; the sighing of the breeze like the chattering of animated spirits, playing hide and seek amid the trees; cloud, blue-gray, in the shape of a samurai at the charge and a I'm not getting any air!

Stop daydreaming and get on with it! he berated himself. Tried four different types of leg atemi but the Yakuza slipped away each time, doggedly keeping his strength in the tautness of the manrikigusari. Jake suspected that he was slowly drowning in his own blood. But that would be little consolation if he was able to hold on long enough to keep the air out of Jake's bursting lungs.

Seconds now rather than minutes and Jake did the only thing he could, arching backward, putting all his weight excruciatingly on his neck for the instant when it became the fulcrum for the back somersault.

Used an elbow atemi with both fists clenched together, consciousness wavering in and out of focus, jamming down, down in a sharp motion that shattered the Yakuza's sternum.

The man arched up, his fingers white as bone as they slid along the wet links of the chain and Jake, slamming his left elbow at the side of his neck, smashed the flat of his right hand against his adversary's cheek. Heard the sharp snap of the cervical vertibrae as they gave way beneath the enormous pressure.

A nacreous blackness and he saw the ant making its laborious way through a field of stalks.

Then he became aware that the field of stalks was the hairs on the back of his hand. Head hanging down, the manrikigusari hanging around his shoulders like the weight held aloft by Atlas.

”Jake-san!”

Mikio by his side. ”Are you all right?”

It hurt too much to nod his head and his tongue was so dry it felt swollen enough to fill his mouth.

At Mikio's silent urging, they moved off, edging around to the far side of the Justice stone. Surrounded by box tree and silver juniper.

”There are four more,” Mikio said. He kept looking at his watch as if he were late for an appointment. ”We must hold them off.”

Jake noticed that he had taken the manrikigusari. ”How good are you with that?” He was testing the raw flesh around his neck.

Mikio gave a grim laugh. ”It depends on whom you speak to.” He gave Jake a look, ”Don't worry, kyujutsu ka, we'll be drinking Kirins at my favorite bar in the old quarter of Kyoto an hour from now.”

Jake said nothing but he wondered if that was going to be so. He badly needed some rest and there was no telling how badly Mikio was wounded. He watched their immediate environment. He listened.

He heard a sharp clack and jump slightly. Mikio put a hand on his knee. ”It is only the s.h.i.+s.h.i.+ odos.h.i.+.”

Jake looked around, saw the bamboo and stone ”deer scare” not twenty meters away. Originally created by farmers to keep their crops from being eaten by animals, the s.h.i.+s.h.i.+ odos.h.i.+ was now a common element in the modern j.a.panese garden. A wide length of bamboo filled part way with water and as the liquid's weight tipped it over, its end would strike a stone, making the loud clacking noise. Emptied of water it would rise back up again to be refilled and strike the stone once more.

In the changeless harmony of the eternal garden, the s.h.i.+s.h.i.+ odos.h.i.+'s metronomic sound might be the only outward manifestation of the pa.s.sage of time.

To Jake, every clack that reverberated through the foliage brought them that much closer to the end of the overwhelming peace of the garden. Here beneath the willowy branches of the evergreens, the Chinese Judas, amid the aspidistra and plantain lily, the lacy ostrich fern, the okame bamboo gra.s.s, he was never more acutely aware of the beauty of the world. Wiping the sweat from his face, he was determined that they would not die here, not today, not for a long while.

Clack, clack, the s.h.i.+s.h.i.+ odos.h.i.+ spewing out the water on the back of the striking stone. The changeless western face of the Justice stone, bulging out toward them, then running away in a wide arc down toward the j.a.panese maple and the cryptomeria.

Glimpse of black, pin stripe, a suit sleeve? and Jake saying, ”Brace yourself, Mikio-san, here they come.”

Mikio used the manrikigusari on the leading man, tumbling him so that the shuriken he was about to release clattered to the stone path.

At the same time, Jake was up and running toward the breadth of the Justice stone. It was imperative to split these four up. In a bunch, Jake knew, they'd have little chance against a ma.s.sed a.s.sault.

Took three with himobviously with Mikio wounded they figured Jake was the most dangerous. They came at him from three different directions at once. Expected him to run but he stood his ground. Deliberately made himself appear confused; he was careful not to move so that when he did it would come as a shock, gaining him a fraction more time.

And when the one on the left was close enough, he began his attack, a flat-handed atemi that Jake watched come at his face. At the lastinstant, he dropped to one knee, swiveling his body to his left as he did so. With his right hand he reached up, caught the cuff on the man's extended right sleeve and, using his own forward momentum, pulled hard across his own body and down, throwing the Yakuza into his companion, rus.h.i.+ng Jake from the right.

Now, as Jake rose to his feet, the man in the center grabbed him from behind over Jake's shoulders. Jake kept his body moving to his right, jamming his left hand upward under the Yakuza's armpit, and threw him off.

The first man was on him again and Jake, seeing the shuriken in his hand, allowed him to stab forward with it. His left hand flashed out to meet the blade, bypa.s.sed it, locked around the Yakuza's wrist, pulling toward him using his own momentum combined with his strength to pitch him forward.

As the Yakuza stretched out, bending, Jake's right hand came up, slashed down onto the back of the man's exposed neck. He collapsed into a heap.

Jake kicked out at the third man, rocking him back, while eying the short sword the second man had unsheathed. He rushed at Jake, the sword extended in front of him. He began to kiai shout but Jake slammed the heel of his hand into the Yakuza's chin. His other hand blurred up, deflecting the blade away and down.

But the Yakuza had kicked out and Jake felt a searing pain along his hip. His left leg went numb and he collapsed against the curving face of the Justice stone.

The Yakuza slashed down and Jake rolled. Heard the sc.r.a.ping crash as blade encountered rock, saw the bright blue sparks.

Jake reached out, curling his fingers into the front of his adversary's jacket. In close quarters the sword was no good at all, neither would be the man's potentially lethal foot atemi.

Surprising Jake, the Yakuza immediately dropped his weapon, landed a double kite just above Jake's heart. Jake doubled over, had the presence of mind to roll out of the way of the atemi he knew would be aimed at the back of his neck.

The Yakuza followed closely, sensing victory. The edges of his hand were extended and Jake could see that his karate training had been extensive. He struck and Jake used a tenkan, jamming the heel of his hand against the Yakuza's elbow. At the same time Jake twisted his torso, giving him the added leverage, swinging himself and the other man around, slamming him to the ground.

The Yakuza, half-stunned, nevertheless grabbed up the hilt of the short sword and, in the same motion, slashed upward. The blade came within a hair's-breadth of severing Jake's neck.

Used his feet to take the Yakuza down but his position was bad and the man was wielding the sword with deadly force. So Jake did the only thing he could. Using irimi to bring the man toward him down and, at just the right angle, smashed the top of his head against the immutable face of the Justice stone.

He was staring at the limp form when the blow landed on the side of his face. Jake reeled, sliding down the side of the stone. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision, but nothing would quite come into focus. His depth perception was gone. His arms felt weighed down with lead, his leg was burning with the pain inflicted by the foot atemi.

The last of the Yakuza stood over him with his fallen compatriot's sword in his hand. He lifted the gleaming blade and Jake knew there was nothing he could do to stop him. He saw his own death reflected in the s.h.i.+ning perfect blade of the wakizas.h.i.+, felt the cold pressage of the flat, arcing blow that would sever his head from his neck.

The blade began to blur, picking up momentum. At the moment it struck through his skin, flesh and bone, he knew, it would be at the height of its speed.

It was so close now that Jake could see the meeting of the two planes of the blade or thought he coulda hairline so intensely white as to be blinding. it was like looking into the face of G.o.d.

Then something funny happened to the Yakuza's body. It ballooned outward at its center, perhaps six centimeters above the heart, and Jake was covered with a heavy, wet heat. A stench like that of a charnel house suffused him sothat he began to gag.

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