“This is ridiculous!” Smith was on his feet, as excited as he had been in years.
Remo stood at the door. “Ridiculous is putting your head in the sand while Whiteslaw murders a hundred more innocent people. This is just crafty, if I do say so myself.”
“Do not do this impetuous thing,” Chiun warned.
“Chiun,” Remo said, “it’s done.”
Then he was gone.
Epilogue
The nightmare ended with a crash, then oblivion.
Then consciousness, followed by confusion. How could he tell if he was conscious or unconscious when both were simply utter darkness?
He walked this way, then that, trying to shake off the thousand points of pain, and after several days only the worst bruises still bothered him. By then it was the hunger that mattered more.
He went back to the sound of the water and found the crushed and mangled metal scraps. There had been food. Where was the food now? Washed away?
Food materialized, eventually. It fell from above and made a horrible noise when it hit bottom.
He felt its face. The eyes were grown over with flesh. He felt the limbs. An adult, recently deceased, nicely chilled by the river.
So what if it was human? He was starving. He hadn’t had anything for days, and he was hungry enough to eat a horse.
He chewed thoughtfully, felt his strength coming back, and began planning his future. Step one: find a way up through four miles of solid rock.
Step two…
About the Authors
Warren Murphy’s books and stories have sold fifty million copies worldwide and won a dozen national awards. He has created a number of book series, including the Trace series and the long-running satiric adventure,
Richard Ben Sapir worked as an editor and in public relations before creating the