The pain in his gut felt like a red hot branding iron being driven straight in Elder Xuanji had shown no mercy with that palm strike Mike felt something deep in his lower belly explode like glass Cold poured out from the shattered dantian and spread through his whole body

  In a blink his limbs felt frozen solid The brute strength he once trusted now felt like a rusted piston locked in place

  Two outer disciples dragged him across the stone like a dead dog His heavy work boots scraped the slabs and screamed with every pull A long hopeless mark trailed behind him

  At the back mountain they tossed him into a low cramped pen like trash Mike hit a pile of wet fermented straw and mud His organs felt like they shifted out of place Before he could even catch his breath a stink hit him hard enough to drop an elephant

  It was filth mixed with sour slop and damp mold It went straight up into his skull

  The pain and the stench almost knocked him out Then that stink snapped a buried memory awake The choking ammonia bite mixed with cold wind felt just like winter nights beside cheap gas stations along Route sixty six It smelled like diesel

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  It smelled like survival For a moment the filthy pen turned into the Arizona wasteland in his mind The wind in his ears became the low steady rumble of a Peterbilt engine at idle That illusion lit a small flame in his dead gray eyes

  He grit his teeth With the one hand that could still move he grabbed a fistful of mud He fought to sit up

  A heavy snort exploded above his head Mike looked up and met a pair of pig eyes glowing red like hot coals A massive spotted spirit pig stood there as big as a compact car This was the queen of the pen

  Big Mama

  She hated the two legged thing that had fallen into her bed She pawed the ground with her front hooves Her tusks gleamed in the moonlight

  In his condition one hit would end him But Mike did not close his eyes and wait A lifetime on the highway had trained his body to read danger before it arrived

  As he stared at the beast he caught one tiny detail Right before she charged her huge body made a small backward sinking motion It was the same pause a heavy rig makes the instant the clutch bites

  Now When Big Mama tensed her back legs and her weight dipped Mike threw every last ounce of strength sideways He rolled toward a wooden post smeared with manure A thunder crash shook the pen

  Big Mama missed by a hair and slammed the fence instead Wood exploded into splinters

  Mike sucked in air like he had been pulled from deep water In that half beat where death moved a little too slow He felt it A rhythm that might let him live

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