Mouse (Page 6)

“Wait!” Hok called, but Ying didn’t stop.

Charles, Hok, Fu, and Malao all scanned the surrounding hillsides, looking for trouble. Ying passed into the house without incident.

“I don’t see anything strange,” Hok said.

“Me either,” Fu said. “But it feels wrong to me. Let’s hurry up and help Lizard Boy. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“Yeah, let’s hurry,” Malao added.

Hok nodded and stood, stepping out into the open. Fu and Malao stepped after her.

“You three go on ahead,” Charles said, scanning the area with his spyglass. “I’ll keep a lookout until you’re inside the house.”

“Good idea,” Hok said. She and the others jogged over to the house. Once they were inside, Charles lowered the spyglass, sat back, and scratched his head. Like Fu, he had an uneasy feeling.

If I was going to set a trap for Ying, Charles thought, how would I do it?

He decided that he probably would burn the house. If the house was left untouched, Ying might have little reason to ever enter it again. However, if it had been torched, he would likely enter it to inspect the damage.

Charles also concluded that he would not bother to set up an ambush inside the house. Instead, he would post a sniper in a well-concealed location outside, preferably high up. Every ship he had ever sailed in had snipers aboard, men who would climb high aloft in the rigging and rain musket balls down upon enemy ships. A person high overhead armed with a musket could cover a surprising amount of ground.

Raising the spyglass to his eye once more, he looked both high and low this time. It took nearly a quarter of an hour, but he finally found him. Perched in a tree directly opposite the rear of the house sat a man in a silky red and green robe and pants that blended almost perfectly with the autumn foliage. The sniper had one musket raised to his shoulder, trained upon the house, and several more in a large sling next to him. Charles realized that the house must have a back door, and if anyone stepped through it, they would be dead.

Charles needed to act. He raised his pistol to better gauge the distance between himself and the sniper, but it was just as he’d suspected. He was too far away to have any hope of his lead ball reaching its target.

As Charles contemplated what to do next, Malao wandered out the front door, staring at his toes. He stopped and lifted one foot all the way up to his nose, wiggling his toes and giggling loudly as the others began to scold him from within the house. They told him to stay out there because his feet stank so much. How his feet could still smell so bad even after swimming in the river, they would never know.

Charles looked back at the sniper and saw with horror that he was repositioning his musket. It seemed he had a clear shot at anyone coming out the front door, too.

Charles leaped from the undergrowth and rushed toward Malao, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Ahoy! Malao! Sniper in a tree! JUMP, MATEY!”

Malao sprang high into the air. At the same moment, a cloud of dust mushroomed beneath his feet, followed by a loud CRACK! that pierced the chilly air.

“We’re under fire!” Charles shouted. “Take cover!”

As he headed for the front door, hoping to reach it before the sniper took up another musket, Charles watched to see where Malao landed. However, Malao never hit the ground. Charles looked up, astonished, and saw Malao scrambling about the rooftop.

“Hot, hot, hot!” Malao screeched.

Roof tiles exploded next to Malao, followed by the crisp report of the sniper’s second musket. Those lead balls were fast. They were making impact before their blast could be heard. The man in the tree had top-notch equipment and fresh powder.

Charles watched Malao drop into the house through one of the large holes in the roof. Charles looked back at the sniper and saw that the man had taken up a third musket. This one was aimed directly at Charles.

Charles raised his pistol and cocked back the flint-tipped hammer, assuming the worst. The sniper was stationary with a long-barreled musket that was guaranteed to be far more accurate than Charles’ short pistol. What was worse, Charles was barely within range for his weapon. By all accounts, he didn’t stand a chance.

A tremendous growl suddenly filled the air, and with his eyes still fixed on the sniper, Charles saw a large piece of stone sailing toward the tree. The sniper saw it, too, and the instant the man’s head shifted slightly in the direction of the flying object, Charles fired his pistol.

Bang!

Thud.

The sniper hit the ground in a heap.

Charles raced toward the man, but Fu got there first and gave the sniper a swift kick to the kidneys. Charles was not surprised when the man didn’t budge.

Fu rolled the man over, and they saw that the lead ball had passed deep into the center of his chest. A fallen piece of one of the stone dragons was lodged in the sniper’s forehead, the skin around it blistering curiously.