DESTINATION UNKNOWN

CHAPTER 2

-

I

-

The girl was sitting up in bed. She looked like a snow-capped doll—the plaster for removing radioisotopes that covered her limbs was called snow parts. Glowing faintly in the evening from the radiation it’d drawn from her body, it hid the soul-chilling tragedy that’d befallen her beneath the beauty of new-fallen snow.

“There’s no immediate threat to her life. I believe you heard all about her condition from Pluto VIII.”

D met the physician’s words with silence. The girl—Lori—was reflected in the Hunter’s eyes, but what deeper emotions the sight of her stirred in D’s psyche even Dr. Tsurugi couldn’t tell. Or maybe it didn’t stir anything at all. The physician thought that’d be entirely appropriate for the young man.

They were in one of the rooms in the hospital that stood near the center of the residential sector. Dr. Tsurugi and a middle-aged nurse lived there and treated every imaginable ailment, dealing with everything from the common cold to installing cyborg parts. His skill at being able to handle such a wide range of health problems made him a qualified, and accomplished, circuit doctor.

“Could I put some questions to her in writing?”

D’s query put Dr. Tsurugi’s head at a troubled tilt. “Perhaps for a short time,” he said reluctantly. “It’s just . . .”

D waited for his explanation.

“I’d like you to refrain from asking her any questions that may likely prove shocking. We’re dealing with a young lady who’s been seriously wounded both physically and psychologically. She’s already well aware of what the future holds for her.”

“How old is she?”

“Seventeen.”

D nodded.

The physician looked rather concerned, but he soon walked over to Lori’s bedside, took the memo pad and electromagnetic pen from beside her pillow, and jotted something down. An introduction for D, no doubt. Her white shoulders shook a bit, her downturned face shifted slightly toward D—then stopped. D watched expressionlessly as her face turned down again and her lily-white fingers took the electromagnetic pen from the physician. The pen moved with short, powerful strokes. Like it was fighting something off. Tearing off the page, the physician stood up straight and handed the message to D. In beautiful, precise penmanship it read, Thank you so much.

Returning the sheet to the physician, D settled himself into the chair beside Lori’s bed without saying a word. The blue eyes peeking out from under her various white wrappings suddenly opened wide. The girl turned her face away. Quickly bringing it back, she cast her gaze downward. From her reaction, she apparently recognized D.

The physician got another pen and notepad and handed them to D. The Hunter’s hand quickly went into action. There’s someone in your house, he wrote. Were there any strange occurrences there before?

Lori stared at the page he’d given her. And continued to do so for a long time. It seemed like nearly ten minutes passed before she shook her head from side to side.

Once again D’s hand scrawled a few words. Do you know what your father’s experiments involved?

Again, she shook her head.

D readied his pen once more.

Lori shook her head. Over and over she shook it. Her shoulders began to quake, too. Bits of healing plaster fell from her like snow-flakes. Dr. Tsurugi held her shoulders steady. Still, Lori tried to go on shaking her head.

“Kindly leave. Hurry!” the physician said to D. The door swung open and the nurse rushed in.

Getting to his feet, D asked, “Where’s Pluto VIII staying?”

“As I recall, he’s in P9 in the special residential district. It’s right by the law enforcement bureau,” the physician called out, but his words merely echoed off the closed door and died away.

-

Exiting the hospital, D walked down the street. Despite the sudden madness they’d witnessed in Lori, his eyes were as cold and clear as ever. Any human emotion would’ve seemed like a blemish when it showed in the young man’s eyes.

Though plenty of people were coming and going on the street, the path directly ahead of D was completely unobstructed. Every last person in his way stepped aside. They didn’t do this out of the superstitious, ingrained distaste they had for those who dwelled outside their society, but because of the young man’s good looks and the aura about him. Everyone knew. They also knew that not everyone out on the street was necessarily human.

And yet, there was a hint of intoxication in the eyes of all as they gazed at D. His gorgeous features made them shudder with something other than fear, and not only the women but even the men felt a sort of sexual excitement when they saw him. Most of the people wore work clothes and carried farm implements. Working the earth wasn’t quite the same in a sector of a moving town, but people went about the business of living as best they could. They labored. On the far side of the park lay farms and fields, as well as a sprawling industrial sector.

D soon found the law enforcement bureau. Despite the grandiose name, it was no different from the sheriff’s office you’d find in any town this size. The group of blue buildings across the street made up the special residential district. A pair of three-story buildings that looked like hotels—that was all there was to the district. As D came to the door, a cheerful voice shouted to him from across the street. On turning, the Hunter found Pluto VIII trotting his way. Both his hands were covered by a riot of colors—flowers.

“Hey, what are you doing, stud?” The biker wore a personable smile that made his hostility back at the mayor’s house seem long forgotten. Once he’d reached D, he looked all around them. “They’re mighty unfriendly in this town,” he groused. “I heard there ain’t a single florist anywhere. Someone said there was a flower garden, so I went to have a look-see, and they tell me out there they don’t sell to outsiders. Well, that ain’t so rare in itself, but I tell ’em, ‘Dammit, I wanna take them to a sick friend,’ and still they wouldn’t give me the okay.” He was truly indignant about this. Foam flying from his mouth, he added, “Hell, I told ’em the flowers were for Lori. I say, ‘She used to live here just like the rest of you, right? I don’t care if her family decided to leave; it ain’t like she came back here because she wanted to. She lost her mother and father, and got hurt real bad herself, and only came back to try and save her life.’ Son of a bitch—they still told me I couldn’t have ’em. Said that once you leave town, you’re an outsider.”

To his snarling companion, D said softly, “So, how did you get those flowers then?”

“Well, er—you know. Anyway, I was pretty pissed off at the time.”

“That’s not exactly new territory for you, though.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Pluto VIII confessed easily. It was frightening how quickly his mood could change. “Oh, well, not much I can do now. Anyway—did you have business with me?”

“I want to ask you something.”

“Is that a fact? Well, let’s not stand around here jawing. There’s a bar around the corner. What do you say to having a drink while we talk?” Laughing, he added, “Don’t think they serve human blood, though.” Knowing exactly who he was saying this to, his joke might’ve had deadly repercussions, but D didn’t seem to mind. He followed Pluto VIII.

-

The bar was packed. Work in town must’ve been done in shifts. As the two of them entered, all chatter in the watering hole stopped dead. The eyes of the bartender and the men around the various tables focused on the pair.

“Excuse me! Coming through! Pardon me!” Pluto VIII called out amiably as they slipped between the crowded tables, finally seating themselves at an empty one in the back. In a terribly gruff voice he shouted, “Hey, I’d like a bitter beer. That, and a—” Turning to D, he asked in a completely baffled manner, “What’ll you have?”

“Nothing.”

“Dope, you can’t just walk into a bar and order nothing—you’re a nuisance.” Yelling, “He’ll have the same,” to the bartender, Pluto VIII turned to D again. “So, what’s this business you have with me?”

“I went into a certain house earlier,” D said. “There was someone strange inside. Wasn’t you, was it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think anyone from town would be rooting through the house at this late date. And the only ones here from somewhere else are you and me.”

Pluto VIII leaned back and laughed heartily. Those seated around them flinched and gave him startled looks. “Hate to disappoint you, but it wasn’t me. Hell, even if it was me, you think I’d just come right out and say so?”

“Why are you here? Seems someone like you would be better off leaving town.”

“I’d tend to agree with you,” Pluto VIII conceded easily. “But it ain’t that simple. Why, compared to the world down there, this place is like heaven. If you got money to spend, you can buy just about anything, and you can get by without messing around with any of the Nobility’s deadly little pals. I tell you, I plan to stick around until they toss me out on my ear.”

“You couldn’t buy flowers,” D reminded him.

“Yeah, but that don’t change much.” But, just as his confident smile spread across his gruff face, a number of people piled in through the bar door. A gray-haired crone was at the fore, and behind her three powerful-looking young men. All four were pale with anger.

D’s eyes dropped to the bouquet on the table, and he said, “You stole those, didn’t you?”

“No, I’m renting them, you big dope. I just didn’t leave a deposit for them.”

The whole bar started to buzz with chatter, and a bunch of people gathered around D and Pluto VIII’s table. “There he is. There’s the no-good flower thief. I’m sure of it,” the crone shrieked, her bony finger aimed at Pluto VIII’s face.

“Now that ain’t a very nice thing to say,” Pluto VIII said, knitting his brow. “I’m just borrowing these to take ’em to a sick friend, okay? What could make a flower happier than that?”

“The hell you say!” The crone’s hairline and the corners of her eyes rose with her tone. “Do you have any idea how much back-breaking toil it takes to grow a single flower in this town? Of course you don’t! You’re a dirty, rotten thief!”

“He sure is,” another person surrounding the table chimed in. “And thieves gotta pay a price. Let’s step outside.”

“Nothing doing,” Pluto VIII laughed mockingly. “What’ll you do if I don’t go?”

“Then we’ll have no choice but to use force.”

The biker’s confident laughter flew in the faces of the tense men. “Do you folks know who the hell I am? I’m the one and only John M. Brasselli Pluto VIII, known far and wide across the Frontier.”

Silence.

“What, you bastards never heard of me?” Pluto VIII said with a scowl. “Well, at any rate, I bet you know my friend here. The most handsome cuss on the Frontier, a first-rate slayer of Nobility, an apostle of the dream demons, and all the beauty of the darkness in human form—I give you the Vampire Hunter D!”

Every face around them went pale. Even those of the men in the very back of the bar.

“Hell of a reputation he’s got, eh?” Pluto VIII chortled. Looking around at the men who were now still and pale as corpses, he asked, “Still want us to step outside? My buddy can split a laser beam in two.”

“For your information, this doesn’t concern me at all,” said D, his gazed fixed on the same spot on the table the whole time.

“What do you mean?” Pluto VIII said, bugging his eyes. “Oh, you’re cold-blooded. Aren’t we buddies? Don’t listen to him, guys,” Pluto VIII laughed. “He was only joking.”

“Go outside if you want. But leave me out of this,” said the Hunter.

“I don’t believe you!” Pluto VIII rose indignantly. “Did you forget about the beer I just bought you?”

“Sorry, sir, about that,” someone called from behind the bar, “we just ran out of your beer.”

“God damn it all, this just ain’t my day!” Pluto VIII cursed.

“Quit your bellyaching and step outside already,” said one of the men surrounding him. “Stealing flowers is stealing all the same, and a thief’s still gotta pay the price.”

“Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?”

“A thousand lashes with the electron whip, or thirty days hard labor.”

“Don’t care much for either. Well, I’ll go out with you anyway.” Giving D a look that could kill, Pluto VIII didn’t seem terribly afraid as he followed the men out. Still, it wasn’t the fight headed outside that every eye in the place was following—their eyes were riveted to the handsome young man who remained at the table.

Four men escorted Pluto VIII outside. Two of them were in their thirties, while the other two were younger. They must’ve been around twenty years old. As was normal for laborers on the Frontier, the mass of their muscles was evident even through their rough apparel. Every one of them stood over six feet tall. Pluto VIII, on the other hand, was five foot four. The biker was just as big through the chest and shoulders, but, in a bare-knuckle brawl, he’d be at an overwhelming disadvantage.

Snapping his fingers, Pluto VIII asked, “Okay, who wants to be first?”

“Don’t go looking to get yourself hurt any worse than need be,” said the man who seemed to be their leader. “Just come along quietly to the law enforcement bureau and take your pick of the two punishments. Then this’ll all be over.”

Pluto VIII chuckled. “Not a chance.” His face brimmed with self-confidence. Beneath the beard that hid his mouth, his deep red tongue was licking his lips. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s assholes who get all tough when the numbers are on their side. See, I’m more of a loner. So don’t just stand there acting scary. Hurry up and come get a piece of me!”

Even before he had time to realize the last bit had been a challenge, the young man on the left took a swing at Pluto VIII. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even exhale. He must’ve been a first-rate brawler. Just as the two figures were about to make contact, Pluto VIII backed away without moving a muscle. Still swinging his right hand down as hard as he could, the young man had no time to compensate and hit the ground shoulder first. What the hell happened? The perfect timing of the biker’s defense against the attack almost made it look like the two of them were in collusion.

“Okay, next!” said the broadly smirking Pluto VIII. He didn’t look the least bit perturbed. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the brawl. Whatever weird trick he had up his sleeve, it made Dr. Tsurugi’s martial arts seem commonplace by comparison.

The remaining trio of opponents were united by disquiet.

“What’s the problem? I’ll take the three of you at once. Look . . . ” Both hands hanging down by his sides so he was left wide open, Pluto VIII lifted his chin to them as if begging them to punch it.

Howling curses, the two men in their thirties rushed him—one from the front, the other from behind. Trusting the abdominal muscles they’d hardened with a deep breath to protect them from any odd attack by Pluto VIII, the men had their arms spread wide to smash the little guy like a bug. It was a plan of attack that made it plain they had little regard for someone of his small stature. In a moment it became clear that was a mistake. As the two men came together to crush him, there was no trace of Pluto VIII there, and, the instant his form came back to earth some ten feet away, his massive assailants fell face first with a force that shook the ground. What the diminutive man had accomplished in this battle in the chill sunlight was nothing short of miraculous.

Nimbly, Pluto VIII turned around. The face of the one young adversary who remained was right before him. And it was more bloodless now than when he’d heard D’s name mentioned before. “You coming to get some? How ’bout it, sonny?”

The only reply the young man had for that affable query was a dash in the opposite direction.

Watching the young tough run away without so much as a glance behind him, Pluto VIII’s gaze was unexpectedly warm, and then his eyes shifted to the entrance to the bar. “What do you think of that? Am I faster than that sword of yours?” His tone was so steeped in self-confidence it made the sunlight pale by comparison, but D’s only reply was a dark silence. “Well, then, I’m off to see a certain little lady next. You coming with me?”

Giving no answer, D turned away.

“Buddy, I don’t care how damn good-looking you are, you gotta get a bit more sociable. I tell you, women these days are interested in what’s inside a man.” Cackling in a way that made it clear he was pleased with himself, even Pluto VIII couldn’t be sure if his words had reached the black-clad figure whose back was now dwindling in the distance.

-

II

-

Afew minutes later, Mayor Ming was greeting a visitor in black.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the house?”

The mayor recoiled from the serene tone in spite of himself. “What house?”

“Where they found your daughter. It seems it was the home of the girl who’s in the hospital—Lori.”

“That’s right,” the mayor said casually. “I didn’t divulge that particular information because I didn’t think it particularly vital. Did something happen?”

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but someone was in there. I believe they were looking for something.”

“What kind of character was it?” The mayor’s eyes glittered with curiosity.

“There’s no point getting into it. Have any of the townspeople shown any particular interest in that house?”

“Can’t see how they could. The place is supposed to be locked up tight as a drum.”

“Do you know of anyone in town with a talent for molecular intangibility?” asked D.

The mayor didn’t answer.

“What was Lori Knight’s family researching there?”

“He was merely . . . ” the mayor began to say, but then he grew silent. A thin breath whispered from his lips. “For the longest time the Knights’ experiments were the source of some concern for folks around town. Not their results, per se. It was simply that no one could grasp what they might be doing in there. As you’re no doubt aware, in a town like this it’s impossible to try and do anything without somebody finding out about it. At times, individual egos have been known to endanger the way of life for entire communities. I personally called on them more than a few times, but Franz—the girl’s father—always maintained they were simple experiments in chemistry.”

The mayor’s face wore a heavy shade of fatigue. Saying not a word, D continued gazing out the window. As far as the eye could see, the brown plains bent away from them. The town’s cruising speed, it seemed, was far from leisurely.

“If only I’d taken notice sooner . . .” the mayor continued. His voice was leaden. “Mr. and Mrs. Knight were the town’s foremost chemists. It was only Mr. Knight’s intellect that saved us from famine fifteen years back, or averted the thunder-beast attacks in the nick of time a mere four years ago. If not for him, a good seventy percent of the town would’ve gone to their reward. I thought we could overlook their somewhat unconventional hobby, and the townsfolk seemed to feel the same way. That was a mistake. And then one day, he suddenly decided to leave town . . . Yes, it was just about two months ago. I tried my best to dissuade him, but his resolve was strong as steel. I can still recall the look on his face. He looked like flames were ready to shoot out of his eyes. I suppose whatever he discovered here in town could’ve served him quite well in a life in the accursed world below. He could’ve very easily come up with something useful like that. And I had no choice but to let them off. Of course, I didn’t neglect to make it perfectly clear they’d never again be allowed back in town. And that’s all there was to it.”

“I don’t think it was,” D said, as if conversing with the wind. “There was something in their house that bordered on utter ruin. Anyone would notice it. Where did you dispose of the things that were in the house?”

“There wasn’t anything like that,” the mayor said, fairly spitting the words. “The only really unsettling stuff was some odd-looking bottles of medicine and two or three contraptions it looked like he’d thrown together, and we wasted no time in destroying those. But the rest of the drugs and machinery were sent over to other labs or factories that could make use of them. There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary at all.”

“Who did the actual work?”

“Folks from all over town pitched in. Just check the names and you’ll see.”

“You mean to tell me you weren’t involved?”

The mayor shook his head. “No. I give the orders around here. I was right there when it came time to board the place up.”

D said nothing, but gazed at the mayor. His eyes were dark beyond imagining, and clearer than words could say. “I’ll need a list of everyone involved in the project. I want to ask them about something.”

“Why? Do you think I’m lying?” the mayor asked, not seeming the least bit angry.

“Anyone can lie,” D replied.

“I suppose you’ve got a point there. Just give me a second. I’ll make you a copy.”

The mayor used the intercom on his desk to give the command to the listing computer, and in fewer than five seconds the mayor handed D a sheet of paper. The names and addresses of nearly twenty men were recorded on the list. Putting the paper in his coat pocket, D went back outside without making a sound.

-

The old room felt dirty. Aside from the industrial facilities, this place had more working machinery than anyplace else in the whole town, and after nuclear energy had been produced the waste was promptly processed and dispelled as a harmless dust. Despite that, the room did indeed look somewhat soot-stained.

A black figure crept over to the control panel that regulated the trio of nuclear reactors. Because this section provided energy for all the town’s needs, it was protected by three Dewar walls each six feet thick. All activity in the building was monitored by the computer. Nevertheless, the shadowy figure stood suspiciously before the controls, unnoticed by the electronic eyes and unrecorded in their memories. A black hand entirely befitting the dark figure reached out and began flicking off lights on the panel—something that never should’ve been allowed.

-

In the depths of the swirling chaos, red spots began to form. A few of these spots quickly fused into one, and from a spot it grew to a stain, and from the stain a net formed. Within the scarlet was her father’s face. His expression was oddly calm. Blue light danced about him. The light was as bright as lightning, but at the same time it also looked somewhat like coral. Her father looked up from the table. Several seconds later, an elated hue spread across his emaciated features. Her father’s lips moved. “I’ve done it,” he said. “I’ve finally done it.”

The next thing she knew, her mother and father were wandering about in the wilderness. In the distance, the wind howled. It was a cold wind, as chilly as a fog. On the desolate plain before her there was nothing to see but clouds and sky. The clouds eddied, and the wind alone blew against her. And then that wind formed a face by her. One she felt she might’ve seen before, and yet at the same time she also felt she’d never seen. And there wasn’t just one face. There was another, and this one was familiar. Its lips parted to speak. “Stay. Just stay here.” As she and her family moved across the biting, wind-blasted wilderness, she got the feeling that the voice echoed after them for an eternity.

Exactly where her father and mother were trying to go she didn’t know. At times, her mother looked back over her shoulder anxiously. While she realized they’d see nothing but desolate plains out there, her mother seemed to be afraid of something gaining on them. What made the girl uneasy was the unfamiliar face that hung in the heavens. Its eyes focused not on her father or mother but on herself—this the girl knew with every fiber of her being. The wind and bits of sand noisily struck the girl’s face.

-

Dwas in the park. Sitting on a bench, he watched the water leaping in the fountain before him. As always, his thoughts were a mystery. A black shadow suddenly fell across his profile.

“Hey, are you D . . . ?” someone asked in a deep voice.

D didn’t answer. It was almost as if he’d expected the question. The man standing by the end of the bench was a giant who seemed to stretch to the clouds. Not six or seven feet tall, but closer to ten. With a frame like a massive boulder with logs sunk in it for limbs, his shadow easily covered D and stretched to the base of the fountain several yards away. On the chest of his blue shirt there was a tiny, sharp gleam of light.

Apparently not taking very kindly to being ignored, the giant continued, “I’m Sheriff Hutton. Keeping the folks here in town safe from unsavory outsiders is what I do. And it don’t matter whether you’re the mayor’s guest or not, that won’t get you no slack from me. You wanna stay in town, you’d best mark your time peaceably and not go looking to stir up any trouble. See, if you put in three days on the job and have nothing to show for it, even the mayor will give up. I’m gonna be the one who goes looking for your stinking kin. I’ll find ’im and drive a stake through his heart all proper-like. Being sheriff, I don’t much cotton to them ignoring me and calling in a punk kid like you.”

Hutton had a deadly piece of hardware by his right side—a rocket launcher that seemed to consist of seven barrels banded together. A piece of heavy machinery like that could blow away a large beast or even a small building with one shot. And stuck through his belt was a huge broadsword. Even without seeing his weapons, the average person needed only a glance at the size of their owner to start quaking in their boots. With just one look at the sheriff, some folks might even confess to crimes they hadn’t even committed.

“I wanna know if you’ll promise me something,” the sheriff said. “Just tell me you’ll leave town without doing anything. Don’t worry—I’ll tell the mayor you did your darnedest to take care of business. You follow me?”

There was no answer. The only thing about D that stirred was his hair, brushed by the wind. Vermilion started to tinge Sheriff Hutton’s face. Slowly, he backed away. The business end of the rocket launcher he still had tucked under his arm jerked up. All seven barrels glared blackly at D.

“Don’t think I’ll give you any warning.” The slight metallic click was the sound of the safety being disengaged. “I only give you the hint once. Ignoring it is the same as crossing me. And it wouldn’t do the town a bit of good to let a fool like that go on living,” the sheriff said, his voice cheery and his face bright.

An icy tone mixed with the wind. “You were one of the people who investigated the Knight house, weren’t you? What was in there?”

“What the hell are you yammering about?!” the sheriff said, his voice taut, but he didn’t do anything. He didn’t even move the finger he had wrapped around the rocket launcher’s trigger.

“Answer me,” the voice said again. The Hunter’s eyes were still trained on the white pillar of water spraying upward, making it difficult to say just who was grilling whom in this bizarre scene. Neither of the two moved, but in the space between them an invisible but nonetheless fierce battle was unfolding.

Strength surged into the sheriff’s trigger finger. His weapon had been set to discharge all seven projectiles at once. In a matter of seconds, the bench and the young man sitting on it would be reduced to ash by a thirty-thousand-degree conflagration.

The faint sound of a siren pulled the weapon’s muzzle from its target. Looking unexpectedly relieved, the sheriff’s long face turned upward. Something more than just clouds resided in the azure sky. “Looks like the bastards have come for us. Damn, you’re lucky. The next time I catch you alone, you’ll wish to hell you’d left town when you had the chance.”

The sheriff kept his eyes on the sky as he walked off, but D didn’t give the lawman so much as a glance. When the Hunter finally did raise his face, the flapping shapes coming down from above could clearly be made out as birds. A siren stuttered to life like a suffocating person gasping for air. People bolted into the residential sector, stumbling along in their haste. D stood up.

A flock of predatory birds was on the attack. Ordinarily, these vicious monsters flew at altitudes of six thousand feet or more, and fed on the air beasts and flying jellyfish that lived at that height, but, when food became scarce, they’d come closer to earth. The larger ones had wingspans of over sixty feet. They could even carry off a giant cyclops. But the most frightening thing about them was that they didn’t act alone, but rather always attacked in flocks of dozens. To their starving eyes, the moving town must’ve looked like one tremendous meal for the taking.

In the distance, the chatter of what sounded like machine-gun fire started. Streaks of flame rose to meet the approaching shapes. A black curtain swiftly fell over the streets. Around D, the stand of trees bent backward from the intense pressure of the wind.

Giving a stomach-churning caw, a bird with a wingspan of over fifteen feet swooped down like it was going to land right on top of D. Resembling a short horn, its beak was filled with nail-like teeth. Between wings beating incessantly with gale-force winds, clawed feet were visible. Three digits as thick as tree roots went for D, hoping to catch him in their iron grip.

Silvery light flashed out. Though the Hunter’s blade only seemed to paint a single arc, the colossal bird’s wings were both cut down the middle, and fresh blood gushed from the creature’s throat. The water spouting from the fountain was instantly dyed red. As D leapt away from the massive beast’s falling corpse, other talons reached for him. Leaving only the crunch of severed bone in his wake, he slashed a gigantic leg off at the root.

A shrill scream filled the air. D turned around. Under a slowly rising pair of wings some fifteen feet away he saw a desperately struggling figure. It was a little girl in a long skirt. D ran directly under her and her captor. His left hand went into action. Leaving a white trail in its wake, the needle he hurled pierced the colossal bird at the base of its throat. Giving a shriek, the creature stopped flapping its wings and began losing altitude at an alarming rate.

A second later, D’s expression changed. In an instant everything around him was black, as a hitherto unseen bird of prey with an enormous sixty-five-foot wingspan swooped down on the bird that had the girl, sank its claws into the base of the other bird’s back, and started to rise again. The monstrous bird flapped its wings, and a tremendous shock wave hit the ground. Trees snapped, and the fountain’s geyser blew horizontally. One after another, the window-panes of every house around the park shattered.

The hem of D’s coat shielded his face. Was that all it took to negate the gale-force winds coming off the monstrous bird? Though the winds buffeted him, D’s posture didn’t change in the least as he stood his ground. When the avian monstrosity lifted its wings a second time, D kicked off the ground with incredible force. Flying almost straight up, he rose over fifteen feet. His extended left hand latched onto the ankle of the massive bird the other was carrying. Having taken a deadly blow to a vital spot, the lower bird was already dead. And the girl it had captured had fainted. Using his left hand as a fulcrum, D swung his body like a pendulum. In midair his coat opened and, adjusting for wind resistance, D sailed skillfully onto the back of the larger bird. The avian monstrosity roared. The harsh cry was not that of a bird, but of a vicious carnivore.

Holding his sword-point down, D raised the weapon high above his head. All at once, the wings of the monstrous bird swept back. Quivering, they gave off intense vibrational waves. The bird-like monstrosity’s back became semitransparent. The agony of having a needle driven through each and every cell in his body assailed the Hunter. D’s brow knit ever so slightly. That was his only reaction. The longsword he swiftly brought down pierced the monstrous bird right through the medulla oblongata.

A howl of pain shook the sky, and, when it ended, the breakup began. The creature’s death throes must’ve turned the vibrations against its own anatomy, because every last feather came out of its wings, and its skin and flesh cracked like drying clay. In the blink of an eye, the monstrous bird of prey was reduced to numerous chunks of meat spread across the sky.

All this took place at an altitude of six hundred and fifty feet. Together, D and the little girl fell from the sky.

-

All told, it took the town two hours to fight off the birds of prey. Afterward, traces of the battle remained. Bright blood ran down the streets, several buildings had their roofs blown away by the wind pressure, and a boy who’d picked up a still-hot antiaircraft shell cried out in pain. The faces of the people were unexpectedly bright. There had been no fatalities. Hardly anyone had been wounded, either. A few people had received minor cuts from glass blown out of the windows, but that was the extent of the injuries. What’s more, the food situation in town had started to show signs of improvement.

The smaller birds of prey were being loaded onto carts and hauled away, while men with axes and chainsaws gathered around the gigantic carcasses that filled the streets. The whine of motors mixed with sounds of meat and bones being severed, and here and there the stench of blood pervaded the town. In less than thirty minutes a huge bird with a thirty-foot wingspan could be stripped down to the point it was no longer recognizable. After all, man-eating birds were delicious, even to the very people they’d intended to eat.

The town was bustling with activity. Carts were laden with piles of meat, viscera, feathers, and bones to be hauled away. All of them would be sent to the factories for chemical processing, with some of the meat being preserved and sent to warehouses for storage. The rest would circulate to the butcher shops and turn up on dinner tables this very night. In the factories waited men with various skills at their disposal. Spears could be made from some of the bones, tendons and viscera could be used for bowstrings, and the rest of the skeleton would be pulverized to make a paste to be delivered to the hospital. Even the sharp fangs could be turned into accessories. And the blood had its uses as well—trace amounts of it would probably be mixed in juice or in their nightly drinks at the bar. The blood of birds of prey had been proven to have an invigorating effect on humans.

Among all of the bustling activity, a mother suddenly noticed her daughter was missing. Seeing her dashing all over town like a woman possessed as she called out the girl’s name, other folks finally realized they hadn’t seen the woman’s only child anywhere. As someone tried to soothe the half-crazed mother, one of her friends answered that her daughter had been seen headed for the park. There was every reason to suspect the girl might’ve met her end at the talons of the colossal birds.

Several people started to dash down the street, but quickly stopped in their tracks. From the opposite direction came a beautiful yet foreboding young man. By his side was a slight figure. The woman called out the little girl’s name and ran to her. As the mother and child shared a tearful embrace, D turned and walked away without giving them so much as a glance. Where was he going?

After the mother had brushed the little girl’s hair away from her neck and confirmed there wasn’t a mark on her, a relieved smile swept over her face.

“Didn’t do nothing funny to you, now, did he?” said one man. “He’s a dhampir, you know.” Everyone muttered their shared sentiments at that.

“He saved me,” the little girl mumbled.

“Saved you? From what?”

“A bird got me . . . Carried me way up into the sky . . . ”

“You’re talking nonsense. Nothing like that fell in the park.”

“But it’s true,” the little girl said absentmindedly. “We were falling from the sky. And then he saved me . . . He really did save me.”

The eyes of the townsfolk sought the young Hunter. But they could no longer find the faintest trace of him on the noisy street.

-