Lion (9 page)

“Nice work!” Peter called out. “I guess those big guns of yours are good for something!”

I raised my hand and waved, but unfortunately the hand I’d raised also controlled the only brake lever. The bike veered left and began to roll down the steep street. Fast.

“Oh, crap!” I said. I found the brake lever and began to feather it, but it was too late. I had too much speed. I squeezed the brake lever hard, and the cycle began to skid.

“Ryan, look out!” Hú Dié shouted from somewhere behind me. She must have turned around and was now heading down the hill, too.

Ahead of me, a car was coming around the bend at the very bottom of the hill, between the stone seawall and the hillside.

I released the brake lever and turned the cycle hard in an effort to stop my skid.

Bad idea.

The trike toppled over and careened into the rocky hillside. My head smacked against the headrest, knocking my helmet over my eyes. I saw stars and tasted blood in my mouth. I must have bitten my tongue.

The trike somehow righted itself, and I scrambled for the brake lever, my helmet still over my eyes. I found the cranks, but the brake lever was no longer attached. I tried to throw myself free of the cycle, but I was solidly strapped in. The driver honked, and I heard tires squeal.

I was low enough to the ground that I could press my hands against the street, so I did. The padded palms of my riding gloves snagged and skittered over the rough asphalt as I pushed by entire body weight against my arms, but it was no use. In fact, it made matters worse. The cycle began to wobble, and it toppled over again as I reached the bend in the road.

I hit the low stone wall with a
THUMP
and the world went black.

“Are you alive?”
I recognized Hú Dié’s voice.

I opened my eyes to find her and a stranger staring down at me. I blinked, and Hú Dié smiled.

“Just a flash knockout,” Hú Dié said. “He’ll be fine.”

“We don’t know that,” the stranger said. It was a middle-aged woman who looked vaguely familiar.

“Ms.… Bettis?” I said.

“That’s right,” Ms. Bettis replied. “Peter told me that you were coming to visit, but I hardly recognize you. You’ve … grown.”

“Yeah,” I said, shifting my weight so that I could unstrap myself from the custom racing handcycle that I’d just demolished.

“No, no! Don’t move!” Ms. Bettis said. “I need to call an ambulance.”

I thought about how dragon bone made me heal
like a mutant
, as Jake had said. I ran my tongue around the
inside of my mouth and realized that it wasn’t bleeding anymore. My gloves were shredded and appeared to be bloodstained, but my palms were dry. I balled my fists to hide the stains. The last thing I needed was anyone, especially paramedics, freaking out over my instant healing.

“I’m okay,” I said, pushing myself up onto one elbow and quickly releasing the strap around my waist with my thumbs. “See?”

I unstrapped my ankles and rolled away from the trike. I stood, and my abdomen began to cramp. I didn’t want Ms. Bettis to see me in pain, so I bent over and pretended to scratch my stomach.

“Feels like I’ve got a little road rash on my torso,” I said, trying to make my voice sound normal. “All I need is a shower, and I’ll be good as new.”

“Are you sure?” Ms. Bettis asked.

“Positive. You live next door to Peter; come check on me anytime.”

“I guess—” she said.

Ms. Bettis was interrupted by Jake and Phoenix hurrying down the street. Peter was ahead of them on a mountain cycle similar to the one Hú Dié was riding. He eased down the steep slope with far more agility and control than Jake and Phoenix, who were jogging in awkward, loping strides.

“Ryan!” Peter called out. “Are you okay? Why are you hunched over?”

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just a little road rash on my stomach.”

“Whoa,” Jake said, stopping before me. “Look at his brain bucket. It’s toast.”

“Good thing I’ve got a hard head to go along with a solid helmet,” I said.

“You don’t look so great,” Peter said. “Kind of pale. Do you have double vision?”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “How many of me do you see?”

“Fortunately, only one,” I said.

Jake laughed.

“He sounds fine to me,” Phoenix said. “He looks normal, too. Or as normal as an overdeveloped teenager can. The handcycle, not so much.”

“I don’t care about the cycle,” Peter said. “It can be replaced. Ryan can’t. Do you want me to call an ambulance, Ryan?”

“No,” I said. “Ms. Bettis already offered. I’m fine.”

“Let’s get this mess out of the street, then,” Peter said. “Phoenix, Jake—can you drag the handcycle up the street?”

“Put it in my trunk,” Ms. Bettis said. “I’ll drive it up the hill. I’ll drive Ryan up, too.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Peter said. “Thank you. Jake and Phoenix, this is my neighbor, Ms. Bettis. You guys load the cycle into her trunk. Hú Dié, will you help Ryan into her car, then
push
your mountain handcycle up the hill? I don’t want any more accidents. I’ll zip up to the house and pull together bandages, aspirin, and any other things I can think of that Ryan might need.”

“I can think of a few things you might need,” whispered Hú Dié with a grin as she helped me into the car. “Let’s start with a lesson on how to ride a tricycle.”

“Your stomach is cramping, isn’t it?” Hú Dié asked.

I nodded.

Half an hour had passed, and I was lying on Peter’s living room couch with my stomach still tied in knots. The rest of me was fine. Hú Dié and Phoenix were sitting with me, while Peter and Jake were in the kitchen.

“Is it bad?” Phoenix asked, his voice low.

“It’s been worse,” I whispered. “I think it wants to be fed.”

Hú Dié shuddered. “That is so creepy. Do you need me to get some now?”

“Yeah. I’m due for today’s batch. I usually take it in the evening.”

“How much longer before you’re done with it?” Phoenix asked.

“It could be a couple days, or a couple weeks,” I said. “Your grandfather and Uncle Tí aren’t sure.”

Hú Dié glanced at my hands. “I hope you get over it soon.”

“Why?” I asked. “Are you creeped out by my mutant healing powers?” I wiggled my fingers at her.

She wrinkled her nose. “No, you stink.” She giggled.

I grinned, despite the painful cramping. She was right.

“Are you going to tell Peter and Jake?” Phoenix asked.

“I think I have to,” I said.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said.

“We can probably hide it for a little while,” I said. “I don’t feel like telling them right now, anyway. I feel awful.”

“I’ll be right back,” Hú Dié said. “I’ll go get the dragon bone.”

“I’ll come with you,” Phoenix said.

“Hang on,” I said, “I’m coming, too. Maybe I could help you assemble the bikes after you get the dragon bone. It might help loosen up my stomach.”

“Sure,” Hú Dié said.

I stood, and the three of us passed through the kitchen, into the garage. Thankfully, Peter and Jake were busy mixing up some chocolate protein shakes. I was starving.

Hú Dié opened the large bike frame box and separated the frames. Each one was wrapped in bubble wrap. She cut away the material covering my seat and grabbed a small wrench and a pair of needle-nose pliers. She used the wrench to remove the seat. Then she carefully removed a small bubble-wrapped object with the pliers. She handed it to me.

I unwrapped it and held it up. It was a stoppered vial of fine grayish powder.

“Dragon bone, all right,” I said.

“Dragon
what
?” a voice replied.

Phoenix, Hú Dié, and I spun around to face the doorway.

It was Jake.

“I said, dragon
what
?” Jake repeated.

None of us replied.

I looked from Phoenix to Hú Dié, then back to Jake, who was holding a tray containing three chocolate protein shakes.

Peter rolled up behind him.

“Dragon
bone
,” Peter said. “Ryan said ‘dragon bone.’ What is that in your hand, Ryan?”

I stood speechless, my stomach cramping.

Hú Dié came to my rescue. “It is a … uh … type of dry lubricant,” she said. “It is a Chinese product. I put it on all of my bike chains back home. I like it better than the grease most people use.”

“Oh,” Jake said. “Cool. Anybody want a shake?”

I sighed, grateful for Hú Dié’s quick thinking. “I’ll take one,” I said. “I’m starving.” I grabbed one of the large plastic cups and casually slipped the dragon bone into my pocket.

Phoenix and Hú Dié each grabbed a shake, and Jake disappeared into the house.

Peter rolled into the garage. “From what I can see through the bubble wrap, you guys have chosen some excellent bikes. Let me give you an overview of what we’re going to do tomorrow. I’ve already told Jake. I’m going to teach you a few team drills, and I plan to digitally record them on cameras mounted on your helmets. I’d planned to ride alongside you with a camera on my helmet, too; however, I’m not sure I can get my road cycle in working order by tomorrow. The frame is cracked, and it’s aluminum. I’d ride one of my mountain cycles, but they’re too slow.”

“I can fix it,” Hú Dié said, “as long as you have the right welding rod and enough amperage.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Peter said with a grin. “You’re sure you can do it?”

“Positive,” Hú Dié said.

“Fantastic,” Peter said. “Let’s finish these shakes and get to work.”

“You want us to assemble our bikes?” I asked.

“No,” Hú Dié said. “I will do it while I am waiting for the welds to cool. You should relax.”

“Yes,” Peter said. “You and Phoenix are going to have to leave the garage now, anyway. I only have two welding shields, and the light from the welder will fry your eyeballs.”

“Got it,” I said.

“May I use your phone?” Phoenix asked. “I should call my grandfather.”

“Of course!” Peter replied. “How foolish of me. I should have asked you earlier if you needed to use it. Feel free
to call whomever, whenever. You too, Hú Dié, including China.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I will call later because of the time difference. My father will be sleeping now.”

Peter nodded. “Ryan, have you called your mother yet?”

I shook my head. “I forgot to turn my cell phone on after the flight.”

“You are so dead,” Peter said.

“I’m on it,” I said. “Come on, Phoenix. I’ll show you where the phone is.”

I called my mom from Peter’s back porch. It overlooked the neighborhood below and the ocean beyond. It was spectacular. Plus, I could keep an eye out for Jake, who was somewhere inside. I didn’t want him to hear any more talk about dragon bone, if the topic should come up.

My mom gave me a hard time for not having called her sooner, but she laid off me once I told her about my abdominal cramping and my wrecking Peter’s handcycle. She gave me the typical mom-speech about being more careful, and I hung up, promising to keep her posted about my stomach and dragon bone in general. She was beginning to worry, and so was I. According to Uncle Tí and Phoenix’s grandfather, I should have been seeing more improvements by now.