CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 7
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I
-
For every step forward D took, Mr. Stow backed away one. The old man pulled free of his wife’s hand. Once the Hunter considered someone his foe, the unlucky one’s age or sex no longer mattered—such was the young man called D.
“The suckling said he’d made arrangements to change everyone, to make them more like him. Are you what he had in mind?”
From the vicinity of D’s left hand, an unconscious chuckle arose, but no one else noticed.
“Dear,” Mrs. Stow called out sadly from her place on the bed. There was nothing the woman could do.
The old man and D both ignored her.
“Have you got it in you?” Mr. Stow asked, coughing. “Can you cut me down? Could you destroy a poor old man? Sure, I got the god’s power through the suckling.”
Behind D, the rest of the group exchanged glances.
“I should thank you, Mr. Hunter. For bringing me here—to the great god. You know what I’m going to do next? Once I make it out of this fortress, I’m going to the Capital. Then I’m going to kill my sons for living without a care in the world, instead of looking after their mother and father. These same ingrates have forgotten all about how hard my wife and I worked to bring them up, and they don’t even try to hide how inconvenienced they feel when we make our yearly call on them.”
The old man chortled. Coming from such an upstanding face, a laugh so malicious and despicable seemed unimaginable.
It was countered by a cry some would describe as heart wrenching.
“Please, dear! Don’t ruin everything we’ve made,” his wife said, climbing down from the bed. Her face still pale, her gait unsteady, she walked toward her husband, speaking in a hoarse voice.
“Our children have their own lives. Anything that tries to intrude on that is a disturbance. They’ve all settled into their own place in life, and there’s no room for their parents to fit in. We didn’t raise our children just so that they could repay our kindness, did we?”
Suddenly, the old man flew back. Because he hadn’t given any hint that he’d do so, D was a heartbeat too slow in drawing and striking with his blade. Dragged through a pale mist, the old man was swallowed by a distant wall.
“Franz! My dear . . .” Mrs. Stow sobbed, reaching out with both arms. “Where . . . where is this supposed god? Where can I find the god who did this to my husband? What kind of god would do something like that?”
Halting, the old woman turned and looked.
D was right there.
“This god the Nobles worshiped—what’s it like? I’ll kill it—just tell me!”
Mrs. Stow pounded D’s chest with both hands. Over and over she hit him, as hard as she could, with every ounce of rage and hate her body held. D’s chest shook only the tiniest bit. That was all she accomplished.
“Tell me! You brought us here—you led us to this god, didn’t you? Well, bring me to it. I’ll kill it!”
The sound of the fists striking began to fade. The old woman’s knees buckled, and she sank to the floor. But as she did, she continued to pound D’s stomach, then his thighs.
When the old woman’s hands finally fell by her sides, D turned to the group and asked, “When did her husband get back?”
“About three hours after we heard that voice.”
“Three hours ago.”
All that time, the god’s pawn had been with the group. Or rather, it might’ve been more accurate to say the group had been left with him.
“The suckling told me something. He said you were all going to become like him. That he’d made arrangements.”
“Just what are you trying to say?” asked Bierce.
Without replying, D sheathed his sword.
“Mr. Stow was changed by that god thing. You think we were, too?”
“We hardly talked to Mr. Stow at all; right, everybody?” said Maria.
“Damn straight,” Jan agreed. “The same goes for you, doesn’t it, kid?”
Looking at them from the bed, the boy nodded his little head.
When D looked at them, Bierce shrugged his shoulders, while Weizmann frantically waved his hands.
“I can tell you this much,” Maria said, her lips twisting. “This so-called god is sick. I think it’s rotten to the core. After all, this was one of the Nobility’s gods. It probably creeps into the weakest parts of you and starts boasting about its power. And then the god comes right out and tells you how weak you are. Not that anyone could deny that—human beings really are weak. That’s when it offers something really sweet, like suggesting it’ll perform a miracle or saying it’ll save you. That’s all it takes. After you’ve been shown in sickening detail how low you are, what utter scum, you would jump at the offer. After all, a real god is supposed to save you. That’s how Mr. Stow got changed. But is it necessarily his fault? Any one of us might’ve ended up the same way if that god whispered to us. So, I’ve just gotta say . . . what’s so bad about that?”
Maria was on the verge of tears.
No one responded to her words. There was no need to. They all knew what she’d said was true.
From the vicinity of D’s left hand, a voice he alone heard said, “Someone here’s not telling the truth. You gonna put them all down?”
Not replying to this, D said to the group, “Outside assassins still remain. And the god hasn’t been destroyed. I’m heading out again.”
“Give ’em hell,” Bierce told the Hunter. But there was a ring of fear to his words.
“What kind of god is this thing supposed to be? What’d the Nobles want from it?”
“Destruction,” D replied, and that reply in itself was a miracle.
“What?”
“The god in this fortress was a god of destruction. And the Nobles intended to enlist its aid in dying—or in their case, being destroyed.”
“You can’t be serious. Why would they do that?” Maria asked, her eyes wide.
“Ageless and immortal Nobles wanting to kick the bucket? I don’t believe that shit!” said Jan.
Seated on the bed, Mrs. Stow was also stunned.
D looked around the group. All of them turned away from his quiet, deep eyes.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to be a Noble?”
At this question, they all looked at each other as if their souls had been laid bare.
“Not a chance in hell.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Weizmann.
D continued frostily, “To never grow old, never die—those are the sort of things some humans would find attractive. However, for the Nobility, they seem in one sense to be undesirable. Many Nobles noted in their writings that eternal life is nothing to be envied.”
“I don’t get it. Tell me: can an ageless and immortal creature die? Yes—all you have to do is stab them through the heart or cut off their head. So, why’d they need this god of theirs, then?” asked Maria.
“Apparently it’s not easy for them to destroy themselves,” said D. “This god wouldn’t destroy them, either—they were immortal, after all. But then something occurred to them. They could have their god destroy the world.”
“You mean . . . they wanted the human race to be annihilated, right?” Weizmann said, his lips trembling. “The Nobles, needing to drink human blood, would be wiped out, too. That’s the craziest idea ever. I can see why the Sacred Ancestor put a stop to them.”
“D, can you slay this god?” Bierce inquired anxiously.
He got an honest answer: “I don’t know.”
“Okay, I’ve had enough of this!” Jan shouted, consulting his wristwatch. “We can’t rely on this clown any longer. It’ll be dawn soon. The Sacred Ancestor’s army will probably rest by day. If so, we should get out of here. I’m going!”
“Gained some confidence, did you?”
D’s words froze not only Jan, but everyone there.
As looks that beggared description focused on him, Jan frantically replied, “What the hell are you all looking at me like that for? You think I turned into a suckling or something? Look! There isn’t a bite mark on me anywhere, see?”
Though he showed them his neck, the looks they gave him didn’t change at all. Once suspicions involving the Nobility were aroused by someone, even the smallest doubt was difficult to overlook.
A stark gleam flashed over the mobster’s head.
“Holy shit!” Jan cried, cowering as D’s sword halted literally a hair’s breadth from his skull.
When D sheathed his weapon, an air of relief surged into the suffocating space.
“You know, D,” Bierce called over to the Hunter, “I’m not gonna take Jan’s side or anything, but where we’re concerned, there’s definitely something to what he says. Waiting around any longer for you to slay this god thing just puts the rest of us in danger. Is there an escape route?”
“If there were, I’d have told you about it from the start.”
“That means we’d be left trying to slip through the siege army on our own. That’s a serious problem. Guess we’ll have to wait, after all.”
“You say that like it’s no big deal!” Jan shouted.
“Yes, what do we do if the Sacred Ancestor’s army invades? They’d break into this evacuation shelter in no time flat. Let’s get out of here,” Weizmann said, siding with the mobster.
“You think that will go any better?” Bierce said, his cold tone silencing the other two men.
There was a sharp sound. Someone had clapped her hands together. It’d come from the direction of the bed. Toto lay on it, while Maria stood beside it.
“It’s fine for you guys to make a run for it, but think about the kid and the old lady. You in particular, Mr. Transport Officer. Don’t you have a responsibility to these two?”
A slight shaking reached the group.
“The attack has resumed,” D said. “I’m heading out to take care of it. I advise you to wait here until I’m done. It’s up to you to decide whether you’ll do that or not.”
Silence descended.
“There is one thing you could do,” said D.
“What’s that?” Maria inquired, her eyes wide. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier, if that’s—”
“Do you want to come with me to go see the god?”
This time, every jaw in the room dropped.
-
II
-
Naturally, it was the hoarse voice that whispered, “They’ll just be in the way! You can see to the group after you’ve disposed of that god. No sense fretting over them now. You know, sometimes you really—”
In response to this, a voice from on high suddenly said, Most interesting.
Letting out a scream, Maria hugged the boy closer.
Everyone looked up at the ceiling. At some point it’d turned pitch black. Before it had been less than fifteen feet high; now all of them realized that the darkness stretched into infinity.
“The god’s come, has it?” Bierce asked, unsteady on his feet.
Well done. You have the same sort of power as the one who vanquished me. I shall keep my word to you as a god. At present, I’m on the roof of my sanctum. Come here. Whether you win or lose, I’ll transport the humans wherever they desire. However, it’s a hard road.
“You promised you’d fight me,” said the Hunter. “Send the rest of them away right now.”
Are you certain that’s what you want to do? Once you’re not around, the other two assassins might attack here. You see, they know that human gave you some assistance.
“You blabbed to them, didn’t you?” the hoarse voice said.
There were indications that whatever lurked in the depths of the ceiling’s darkness laughed at this without making a sound.
I’ll be waiting—whether you come alone or bring your companions with you.
The ash-gray ceiling reappeared. Streaks of black like the threads of a spider’s web shot through it.
“It’s cracking—get out!”
As D said this, chunks of concrete rained down.
-
Maria looked reproachfully at the entrance to the evacuation shelter while the floor still trembled, then turned to face the group.
“Our food and medicine were still inside. Guess now we’ve got no choice but to go.”
“Up on the roof, eh? Sounds close, but I bet it’ll take us a while,” Weizmann said, heaving a sigh. “Maria will have to look after the boy. Jan can take care of Mrs. Stow.”
“You’ve gotta be joking. Take care of her yourself!” Jan snapped, baring his teeth. “You were pretty quiet until a few minutes ago. What makes you so tough all of a sudden? Are you sure you’re not the one that old-timer recruited?”
“Come again?” Weizmann growled, his hand going for the motor gun by his hip.
Not to be outdone, Jan drew his broadsword.
Bierce clucked his tongue in disgust, but before he could come between them, Maria stepped forward. Even quicker, however, was the feeble voice that said, “Please, wait.”
Propped up against the stone wall, Mrs. Stow shot pained looks from one man to the other. The malice drained from their expressions.
“You needn’t worry about me. I’ll stay behind.”
“Don’t be silly, ma’am—we’re all going together,” Maria said, racing over to lend the old woman a shoulder to lean on.
Shaking her head, Mrs. Stow said, “You really do have a kind heart, don’t you? To be frank, I looked down on you at first. Working in a saloon, of all places! But you’ve been kinder to me than my own husband of fifty years. I don’t suppose you’ll believe me, but I just want to say that I really am—”
Maria hugged the woman’s gray head, saying, “It’s okay, I know. And now there’s no way on earth we’re leaving you behind. We’ll take you with us somehow or other. Can you stand?”
“Yes—I think so,” Mrs. Stow replied, nodding. Tears fell from her closed eyes. Obviously, she hadn’t really wanted to be left in such a place.
“Will you be able to walk?”
“Yes. At least, a little.”
“Then you’ll be fine. Okay, I’ll be taking Mrs. Stow. No one has a problem with that, do they?”
“No, that should be fine,” Bierce said.
“Do whatever you like. I’m having none of it,” Jan declared. “I’ve decided to light out of here by a different route than you folks.”
“Oh, and what route might that be?” Weizmann inquired.
“It’s a secret. I’ll be damned if I’ll have you, of all people, tagging along after me. At any rate, I’m going alone—you got anything to say about that, Mr. D?”
The mobster shut his mouth and watched as the figure in black slowly approached him.
“Wh—what the hell? You got a problem?”
“We can’t be sure you haven’t been given power by this god. And destroying the god is my job.”
A heartbeat later, Jan was twenty feet down the corridor. Everyone was left bug eyed by the superhuman bound.
“Just as I thought,” said the hoarse voice.
Jan’s eyes gave off blood light, and sharp fangs could be seen in his open mouth.
“You’re damned right. Thanks to the suckling and that old-timer, I’m better than ever. All you bastards treated me like some little piece-of-shit hoodlum. I was gonna circle around behind you and pick you off one by one, draining you dry. But now that you’re onto me, I have no choice. I’ll have to get rid of a couple of you right here and now.”
“Think you can?” the hoarse voice said with amusement.
“Oh, just watch me!”
After jerking back his broadsword, the mobster swung it down. His body glided forward. Or rather, his body stayed right where it was, but a pale duplicate of Jan slipped from it like a ghost. Though D’s blade mowed through its torso, the copy never stopped, striking with its broadsword at D’s left shoulder.
The blow was parried. The broadsword that should’ve stopped went right through the Hunter’s blade and sank into the base of D’s neck. Though not a drop of blood was shed, D fell to one knee.
The new Jan grinned viciously. D ran right through him. His blade flashed out for Jan’s actual form, standing straight behind the ghostly one.
Letting out a hair-raising scream, the new Jan flipped through the air with one hand still outstretched, and then vanished. Split in twain from the top of his head to the crotch, the real Jan fell to the floor in two pieces a moment later.
D sheathed his sword.
The rest of the group stared at him, their faces blank. Far more than Jan suddenly baring his fangs, it was D’s skill with a sword that terrified them.
However, D was down on one knee again.
“What’s wrong?” asked both Maria and Bierce.
“An illusion dealt this wound, but the pain seems real enough.”
“Unbelievable!”
As if in response to Maria’s remark, D got up again.
“Anyone else want to stay behind?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Weizmann said, his face pale as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Okay, let’s go, you two,” Maria said to the old woman and the boy.
They both got up.
-
Because the elevator had stopped working, the group had no choice but to climb the stairs. After two floors the old woman was exhausted.
“I knew it. I can’t do this. Please, go on without me.”
Ignoring the old woman’s weary and sorrowful plea, Maria let go of Toto’s hand, bent down, and offered her back to Mrs. Stow.
“It’s okay. If you’re dead on your feet after two floors, there’s no way you could climb up all the way. It’s great that you made it this far.”
“But I . . .”
The old woman’s mournful expression was eclipsed by a figure in black. Black arms wrapped around her slim waist, easily lifting the old woman and tossing her into the air to land on D’s back. Not only Maria but the other three as well stood in a daze as D began climbing the stairs without a word, the stunned old lady on his back.
Turning to Toto, Maria asked him, “Can you walk?”
“Sure,” the boy replied.
“Come what may, that guy will protect us. But you can’t depend on others to do everything for you. The only one who can take a helping hand from him,” Maria continued, lowering her voice, “is the old lady—got it?”
The boy nodded.
“Okay, let’s go then.”
“Sure thing.”
The two of them began to climb the stairs. They made no attempt to look back at the pair behind them.
Exchanging displeased glances, the men started up the stairs a moment later.
-
When they reached the third floor, something white began to creep around D’s feet.
“Fog,” Maria murmured behind him.
It was billowing up through the floor.
“Be careful,” D said succinctly. Any remark from this young man, even a terse one, was a red alert. They knew perfectly well this wasn’t the kind of weather that gave rise to fog.
“Maria,” D called out.
“Uh, yes?”
“Catch!”
Now no more than a shadow, D went into motion, and Mrs. Stow flew through the air. It would have been a crazy way to pass her under any circumstances.
Barely making the catch, Maria was sent reeling by the old woman’s momentum.
“Back downstairs!”
Turning back down the staircase on D’s directions, the woman saw white fog climbing eerily.
“It’s no use, D. There’s fog down below, too!” Maria cried toward the cloud that had enveloped D, but then she gasped.
The fog was turning red.
“D!” she shouted, but Weizmann grabbed her by the arm.
“Hey! We’ve gotta go up!”
“No, D’s in the fog—go help him!”
“Head up,” Bierce said, clapping Maria on the shoulder. “And leave D to me . . .”
Maria saw Weizmann draw his motor gun. A look of disbelief spread across her face.
When the officer raised his weapon high, Bierce reacted to the killing lust. The warrior used his left hand to stop the barrel that was pointing at him. Its terrific impact was like a jackhammer. Still in the same pose he’d used to stop it, Bierce was driven to his knees. The scrawny government official had knocked the warrior down.
Delivering a light kick to his side, Weizmann sent Bierce sliding down the hall.
“You—you’re . . .”
“Come with me. All three of you,” Weizmann laughed.
A pair of fangs poked menacingly from his bright red lips.
-
III
-
D felt the fog seeping into every inch of him. It was at that instant that his circulation changed. Spilling from his veins with terrible force, the blood gushed from his pores—or rather, it came out between the lining of his individual cells. Blood robbed him of his vision. His own blood.
At that moment, a vicious killing lust erupted up ahead of him. There was a metallic, eardrum-piercing clang and a shower of sparks as something vaulted over D’s head and landed somewhere in the corridor. It was a foe whose surprise attack had been narrowly parried in the pitch blackness by a dreamlike stroke of D’s blade right out of the sheath.
“Not bad,” an almost-mechanical voice told the Hunter. “But you’re looking at a man who fought a god. I won’t be defeated by anything as weak as a human being. The god lost its blood, its sight, and one of its arms in this fog. The three of us were selected from the Sacred Ancestor’s army for this very day.”
As D listened to his foe’s determined words, the blood was flowing out of his body. If anyone had been there to see him, D would’ve looked like a blob of red in the shape of a person. He fell to one knee, and then used his sword to stand again.
From up ahead of him . . . no, from behind him . . . then from his right or his left, his foe asked, “Can you see me?”
Something surged toward D without a sound.
Just then, the Hunter replied, “I see you.”
It wasn’t clear if his opponent actually caught that voice, like a withered bole that could chill the rest of the forest, but a cry of pain that echoed with something strange and inhuman flowed down to the floor, sliding along for several yards before it was silenced.
D spun around. Poised for action against the presence he’d sensed behind him, he still had both eyes shut tight.
“It’s me, Bierce,” the voice called out to him in a pained tone. “Weizmann’s been changed by the god thing. He made off with Maria, Toto, and the old lady. Sorry, he caught me with a shot while I was off guard. I’m guessing they’re hostages.”
“There’s another possibility,” D said, giving his blade a shake. Blood spattered across the floor. Usually, not so much as a drop of gore clung to his sword. This time, his blood loss had left him so weakened it’d affected his swordplay.
“What’s that?” Bierce inquired. His face was barely discernible. The demonic fog was leaving.
“They’re a sacrifice.”
The warrior was speechless.
“The god still can’t move. The one hand it finally managed to free was cut off. In order to resume its reign as a god, it’ll need life. Did they head up?”
“I think so.”
“Talk about useless.”
Out of reflex, Bierce angrily thought, What? before reconsidering. The voice isn’t the same, he told himself, but by that time D was already unsteadily heading toward the stairs. The shadow that fell at his feet was painted in bright blood.
-
“Above us is the roof,” the transport officer said, looking up toward the heavens as he cleared the last step. His right hand gripped Maria’s, his left, Toto’s, and on his back he carried Mrs. Stow.
“So, this great god of yours is waiting up there, is it? What’s it going to do to us?” Maria said, glaring at Weizmann.
“Ask the god that.”
“Well, looks like you got to do your job after all. Right now, you’re transporting us.”
“You think so? At any rate, I sure showed up those other two guys.”
“Oh, is that why you let Mr. Stow—” Maria started to say, but on noticing the old woman, she continued, “—why you let that god thing make you its slave?”
“Why else?”
Maria used her free hand to wipe her face, saying, “You were in such a miserable state, you were willing to let the Nobility make a pet out of you.”
“That doesn’t bother me. I’m from a distinguished family up north. Didn’t you recognize the Weizmann name?”
“Not really.”
Realizing that she was trying to antagonize him, Weizmann grinned savagely. His exposed fangs gave Maria chills.
“My family’s produced judges and lawyers for generations. My grandfather was on the Supreme Court of the Frontier, and my father was the chair of the Grand Jury. He was succeeded by my oldest brother. The next oldest became a lawyer and started a practice in the Capital.”
“Weizmann the lawyer—I’ve heard of him. That’s your brother? Why didn’t you ever amount to anything?”
“Do your worst. There’s nothing you could say to me now that I haven’t already heard from the people around me. They like to say the youngest Weizmann’s a screwup, or talk about how he ended up an officer transferring prisoners, of all things. My father disowned me ages ago.”
“I can imagine.”
“But no one’s going to talk to me like that anymore. Once I’ve left the fortress, I’m going to the Capital. After I’ve shown my father and brothers what I’ve become, I’ll rip their heads off. A godlike being is entitled to do things like that.”
“Yeah, godlike,” Maria said, staring intently at the face of the spoiled brat turned madman. “In that case, whatever’s up on the roof can’t be any kind of god. Who’d ever give any power to a kid like you, all screwed up with weird ideas about your own pride? You remember back on the raft, when you used that gun of yours to save us all? I thought you were the best then.”
Turbulence shot across Weizmann’s face.
“Don’t speak to me of the time when I was merely human. Besides, didn’t the rest of you listen to those whispers from the suckling and Mr. Stow?”
All three of them—including Mrs. Stow on Weizmann’s back—looked at each other.
“Are you playing dumb, or have you not yet noticed your power? I didn’t realize it until a short time ago. Well, it doesn’t matter—let’s go.”
“You know, this kid tried to save us all. I don’t know whether or not you’re a godlike being, but aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“She’s right,” Mrs. Stow said from Weizmann’s back. “Even if a human being doesn’t care, anything that calls itself a god should know what’s truly important. Kindly set me down. I’ll walk on my own.”
And saying this, the old woman jumped down—both Weizmann’s hands were occupied—and coughed.
Maria tried to shake free of the man’s hand, but she had little success.
It was almost painful to watch the old woman’s movements as she got to her feet and said, “Goodbye, Maria. I’ll choose for myself where I meet my end. Take care.”
And with that, she walked back the way they’d come. There was no place for her to meet her end here. Nevertheless, the old woman stood tall, her gait infused with power.
Maria was free now. Weizmann had let go of her hand. She was about to run toward the old woman, but then she stopped herself.
It had come to her in a flash. Turning, Maria prepared to pounce, but Weizmann already had the barrel of his motor gun pointed at the old woman’s back.
“Stop!”
Maria’s scream seemed to change the killer’s mind. Using centrifugal force to send Toto flying, Weizmann spun around and pulled the trigger on a figure that stood facing him some thirty feet down the hall.
As bullets slammed into him a hundred times a second, the boy in a turban and toga smiled back innocently, saying, “Let’s play.”
Weizmann opened his mouth. The pair of fangs was painfully conspicuous in his fiery red maw. But just as he was about to kick off the ground, his legs were torn free at the pelvis—that was the only way to describe the way they came off.
Walking over to the “godlike being” who unleashed a beastly howl, the boy took the legs he’d ripped from the doll and threw them in Weizmann’s face.
“Can we play some more?” the boy asked, his eyes reflecting the image of Maria and Toto.
The boy raised his doll high. Apparently it was fashioned from clay, and though the doll’s face had been that of Weizmann, it transformed in the blink of an eye to Toto’s.
“You see, this is how I tore off the god’s arm,” the boy said proudly, reaching for the neck of his doll of Toto.
A vision of what would occur next filling her brain, Maria shut her eyes.
There was a pop like a paper bag exploding, betraying the woman’s expectations.
The boy wasn’t there. Where he’d been, there was a great serpent of a tentacle that reminded her of tanned black leather, curled into a ball. Beneath the ball, a pair of legs could be seen. Blood immediately began to drip from them.
“My god, how good of you to rescue your poor—” Weizmann began to groan from his spot on the floor, sounding close to tears, but a heartbeat later the tentacle balled around him.
There was the sound of bones snapping.
Thinking she could hear the transport officer screaming, Maria covered her ears. It sounded like he’d said, “My god, why have you done this to me?”
The tentacle was drawing closer. Hugging Toto, Maria shut her eyes. Something soft wrapped around her torso—or so it seemed, and then a breeze struck her cheek. The bonds on her torso had disappeared.
When Maria opened her eyes again, she was on the roof. To either side of her lay rows of golden tanks and radar domes for interplanetary communication, but what caught her eye was the huge pile of tentacles that occupied two-thirds of the rooftop. The thing had lost one arm, and if the tentacle that brought her and Toto there was the other one, it had to be impossibly long. Though she strained her eyes to try to see its body, she saw nothing aside from the mountainous coils.
“Oh . . . Maria,” she heard Mrs. Stow say behind her. Apparently the tentacles hadn’t let the old woman escape.
“I’m fine. Where’s the exit?”
“Right behind us. We can’t be ten paces from it.”
Though Mrs. Stow’s voice was shaky, her grasp of their situation was firm enough. The old woman rose even higher in Maria’s estimation.
“Well, when I say the word, I want you to run for it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Maria considered the timing. While the mass of tentacles writhed perversely, she couldn’t find its head.
At any rate, I guess we should try to get away, she thought. She found it strange that looking at something so disturbing hadn’t left her immobilized.
“I’ll count to three. One . . .”
She put her strength into her legs.
“Two . . .”
Now.
“Three!” Maria said as she turned around.
Something pulled hard at the boy in her arms. With a tortured cry from Maria, he was down on the floor, still squeezing the fingers of her left hand.
“Make a run for it!” she shouted.
“We can’t do that.”
Having chilled the blood of Maria and Mrs. Stow—who’d halted—the boy slowly smiled, revealing the fangs he’d kept concealed until then.
-
IV
-
“Toto—not you too . . .”
It was all Maria could do to squeeze those words out. Her very blood was frozen.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Toto said, his tone just as timid and gentle as it’d been before. That was probably the only thing that kept Maria from fainting dead away. “I’m not going to just offer up the two of you. I’ll go there with you.”
“Let go of my hand. That might be fine with you, but I want no part of it. Now, I have to take Mrs. Stow and get out of here. Don’t try to stop us.”
The boy crinkled his little brow, saying, “It’s funny. Didn’t you hear those two whispering to you?”
“Yes, I did, truth be told.”
“Then why didn’t you accept their offers?”
“Fat chance of that happening. All that talk about how unlucky I was to have my own family turn on me and sell me to traveling gypsies was a lot of hot air. See, you can’t live your life if you let every little thing like that get under your skin. When they were getting rid of me, I bit one of my parents’ fingers off, and anyone who ever bullied me—I don’t care if it was a man or a woman, one of my superiors, or someone rich—they all got it back in spades. I’m not gonna say it didn’t hurt me, but I’ve lived as I like and I’ve got no regrets about it. And thanks to that, I don’t hate anyone. I’d be damned if I’d take them up on a pitiful offer like that. But then, I can’t speak for anyone else.”
“I envy you, miss,” Toto said.
“If that’s the way you feel, let us go. Or you could come with us instead. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?”
As the boy stared at Maria, his eyes filled with a glow that was terribly calm. It was the same glow Maria had carried in her heart until just now.
Maria felt the boy’s fingers release her.
“Don’t be stupid—come with us!” the woman said, but as she reached out for Toto, he drifted away without moving his legs.
“Child,” Mrs. Stow said, extending both hands.
A thin smile rose to Toto’s lips. Though he still had fangs, his grin was that of a human.
A black mass burst through his chest from behind.
“Toto!”
“My dear child!”
With the cries of the two women as his only parting gift, the boy was lifted by something that seemed too enormous to be called a tentacle and hurled into the distance with incredible force. Leaving only a streak of blue blood through space, the boy vanished into the watery light. He would fly many miles before he fell back to earth.
“I can’t believe you, doing that to a nice kid like that!” Maria said, wiping her tears away.
The tentacle loomed before her. It was more than a colossal pillar; it called to mind a tower. Though she thought about simply standing there and glaring at it until it impaled her as it had Toto, there was still someone she wanted to save.
“Back away slowly,” Maria whispered to the old woman behind her.
“Okay.”
“We’re gonna run for it, okay?”
“Yes.”
“Now!”
Maria turned around. There was no exit before her. A wall-like tentacle barred the way.
No, we’re finished! she thought, despair sinking its teeth into her heart.
Come, said the same voice she’d heard down below.
“Sorry, Mrs. Stow—this is the end of the line.”
“Please, don’t apologize. You really did great.”
“Mind if I ask you something?”
“What might that be?”
“Didn’t they make you an offer, ma’am?”
Mrs. Stow laughed easily.
“Oh, yes, my husband was most persistent. But I don’t hate anyone, either.”
“Looks like that saved us both, eh?”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
The two women hugged each other.
Maria glared at the tentacle. Suddenly, it twitched violently, and then disappeared. Behind it, the exit became visible. From that exit, a pair of figures were now approaching them, one armed with a longsword and the other with crimson arrows of iron. The young man in the lead should’ve been dressed in black, but he was now stained vermilion.
“D!”
“They’re all yours,” D told Bierce tersely, walking by the women without another word.
So good of you to come, O powerful one, the god said, its voice raining down on the Hunter. I won’t do anything to you. I wish to see whether or not you’re just like him.
D’s body sailed through the air. Bounding just once off the tentacle, he rose up to the pinnacle of that black mountain and out of Maria’s sight. But just before he disappeared, Maria saw that he had his longsword raised high.
What occurred then was very strange.
The next second, Maria was standing on a desolate plain. In front of her stood D, poised with his blade driven into the ground. Turning, the woman saw Mrs. Stow and Bierce about ten feet behind her. She suddenly noticed something—the sun was high in the sky. From its position, it must’ve been nearly midday.
D walked over to her. Before Maria could say anything, the Hunter told her, “Looks like it kept its promise.”
“What?”
“It transported us here. The highway runs right through this area. A bus should be along soon.”
Far behind D, a strip of white ran without end across the reddish-brown earth.
“What about that god thing?”
“It disappeared.”
While that was true enough, the Hunter’s reply was far from amiable.
“Funny, the sky is kind of—”
“That the god’s doing?” Bierce asked D.
The handsome Hunter nodded his head.
“Its death throes sped up the planet’s rotation.”
Maria couldn’t speak. Finally, she managed to ask, “It looks like we were saved, thanks to you—but what are you doing out here?”
There was no reply.
Guess I should’ve known, the woman thought to herself.
“Did the old man make you an offer?” D asked Maria.
“Yeah, just once. I prettied the story up for Toto, but to be honest, if he’d asked me over and over, I’d have probably taken him up on it. Come to think of it, I wonder why he wasn’t more insistent.”
Holding his fist out under her nose, D opened his fingers. He held a gold pendant.
“A keepsake from the suckling.”
His hand tilted to one side, and as the woman frantically caught the glittering treasure he dropped, she asked, “Why give it to me?”
“The girl he was going to give it to was named Maria.”
The woman didn’t know what to say.
“Did the suckling make you an offer?”
Maria shook her head. What was D trying to say? Did he know something?
However, Maria quickly abandoned this train of thought. Whatever was done, was done. There was still a mountain of things she had to do.
“Speaking of that, D,” Bierce said to the Hunter. The next words from his mouth were astounding: “I was made an offer, too.”
Maria and Mrs. Stow backed away. Both were pale.
“I was asked if I’d like to be even stronger than I’d been in my prime. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it. Go ahead and laugh. But since I’ve been given this opportunity, there is something I wanna try. Namely, I’d like to test myself against Vampire Hunter D. Will you indulge me?”
D’s right hand went for the hilt of his sword.
“I appreciate it. I’m gonna pull out all the stops.”
Lowering his hips, Bierce poised himself to throw, each of his hands already gripping iron arrows in anticipation of the deadly moment of truth.
Fifteen feet lay between them.
As an overwhelming will to kill coalesced, Maria and Mrs. Stow could be heard calling out, “A bus!”
D kicked off the ground. He raced toward his opponent like a gust of wind. In stark opposition to the light of day, he was a remnant of the exquisite darkness.
Iron arrows flew to greet him. Not even bothering to bat them down, D pounced.
At the zenith of his arc over the crimson streaks, D lurched. An arrow had pierced his left shoulder. Even D couldn’t dodge that arrow, which had been launched by the warrior’s god-given power.
As soon as the Hunter touched back to earth, another arrow flew.
Deflecting it, D hurled his sword like a throwing knife at the same moment. It pierced Bierce’s heart as he was poised to throw again, deciding their duel.
“So, that’s the road that kid is on? D, I think I . . . got it easier.”
Spitting a clot of blue blood from his mouth, the warrior slumped forward. Reddish-brown dust went up, covering his body.
“He gave me some help, didn’t he?” D said once the dust had settled.
Maria nodded, thinking about Toto slowly decaying somewhere.
Just as Bierce had been about to release another volley of arrows with the power the god had given him, all four of them had experienced a shuddering terror. That was the thing little Toto kept hidden in his psyche. The fear he’d felt as an infant when his father had tried to get rid of him, the horror he’d felt as a child being beaten and unwanted. Maria and Mrs. Stow had fainted where they stood, while Bierce had been terrified. Only D had weathered it. And that had meant the difference between life and death.
A horn honked. The bus that stopped by the side of the road was calling them.
“D!” Maria called out. “I’m gonna look for that kid. I’m sure I’ll find him before my days are up.”
“I think he’d like that,” D said, quietly returning his blade to its sheath.
-
Two days later.
Three passengers got off at a long-distance bus terminal in the eastern Frontier. One was a young man so gorgeous people waiting for the bus nearly fainted, while the other two were a young woman and a distinguished older lady. The first two headed into the marketplace across from the terminal, while the old woman went over to wait for a different bus.
As a traveler who was waiting for the same bus a short distance away looked on, an old man appeared out of nowhere and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
Though it didn’t reach the traveler’s ears, their conversation was as follows:
“I came to collect you, honey,” the old man whispered into her ear.
“Ah, but there isn’t any place in particular I want to go,” the old woman said, looking rather beleaguered. “I really had hoped to keep traveling with those two.”
“Liar. You took me up on my offer, didn’t you? Now, let’s go punish our ingrate sons.”
“Unlike you, I don’t hate our children. Actually, I don’t hate anyone.” And then she added quite clearly, “Except for you, that is.”
And as her husband turned, Mrs. Stow took the dagger D had given her for self-defense and plunged it into his chest.
The old man’s eyes opened wide. Fangs spilled from the corners of his mouth—along with blue blood.
“So, that’s it . . . It was me . . . that you hated?”
“Yes, it was. You gave me cause enough, didn’t you? You might not remember, but I certainly could never forget. Not to worry, though. You won’t be going alone.”
“Really? I appreciate that.”
And saying this, the old man disappeared.
The traveler saw the old woman’s back quaking. Perhaps she was crying. Before long, she turned around and, on noticing the traveler, bowed before turning again and staring off at the marketplace. After doing that for quite some time, she took the dagger she’d been holding all along and drove it into her own chest.
-
END