Vampire hunter d volume.., p.15
Vampire Hunter D Volume 26, page 15
“That’s right,” the hoarse voice responded pompously. “Don’t worry about it. A man’s gotta keep a grip on himself.”
The former Hunter didn’t know what to say.
Fifty yards until they would pass each other—
Without warning, the other vehicle changed direction. Kicking up a cloud of dust, it came barreling straight at them.
“It’s a phantom carriage!” JJ exclaimed as he pulled the trigger.
It wasn’t the carriage he was aiming at. One of the cyborg horses staggered. To stop a car, you aimed for the engine. But the horse didn’t stop.
“They’re gonna hit us!” JJ cried, his body rising along with his scream. Not just that, but the horses and stagecoach rose, too.
D must’ve worked a miracle with the reins, because all six horses had kicked off the earth and the stagecoach jumped into the air, easily clearing the enemy trying to ram them and landing some thirty feet away.
The interior of the vehicle was thrown into chaos. No one had been properly secured, so they were all pitched out of their seats, slamming into the seat in front of them or colliding with the person next to them before rolling to the floor.
The stagecoach continued forward. The unearthly, beautiful driver didn’t seem to give any thought to returning to the highway.
“They’re coming after us!” JJ shouted, shouldering the rifle. “It’s the restless spirits of folks attacked and killed on the highway by Nobles or bandits. They sure are persistent.”
A gunshot reverberated.
“Wow!” JJ exclaimed, ducking his head. “They’ve started shooting at us. That thing’s got passengers!”
JJ’s eyes had caught the pistols poking out of the carriage’s windows and the shriveled hands that held them. The hands were those of men, women, and even children.
On the highways of the Frontier, monsters and bandit groups were a certainty. On the other hand, aside from someone riding shotgun next to the driver, stagecoach passengers had no choice but to defend themselves. In the face of overwhelming numbers, firepower, and cruelty, besieged passengers could be forced to surrender, but even after that they might be killed on the spot or left stranded there as food for monsters.
Restless spirits collected on the Frontier. The ghostly fires that burned by night across the vast plains were the pooled souls of those angered by their untimely deaths. That resentment could reanimate broken-down carriages and cyborg horses, with the dead becoming passengers once more and attacking those who traveled the plains in peace—which made sense in its own way.
“What’ll we do, D? They’re right on our tail—actually, they’ll overtake us any minute! They’re vengeful spirits, after all.”
“We oughta have a funeral for ’em.”
“Quit it with the ventriloquism!”
JJ’s angry shout was erased by a bullet whizzing through the air.
“Son of a bitch!”
JJ fired another shot at them, and then all the hands pulled back into the carriage.
The former Hunter didn’t think he’d had any effect. He wasn’t that simple-minded.
A thick cylinder poked out of the window.
“It’s a bazooka!”
A small amount of powder set in the bottom of the fat, high-explosive projectile would send it flying more than a hundred yards, where its shrapnel and shock waves would bowl over the cyborg horses.
“Hold on tight,” D said, cracking the reins.
The ground swelled. With a roar, red-hot chunks of iron flew at the horses and stagecoach. All of them struck the bottom of the vehicle, which was tilted sharply to one side.
JJ had just about rolled out of the driver’s seat before latching onto one of the handholds for moving about up top, and as he clung to it, inside he was shouting with surprise, What the hell is this guy?! He’s a freak! It was almost a scream of heartfelt emotion.
Suddenly the stagecoach slowed down. Their fifty-yard lead was swiftly diminishing.
“Hey!” JJ called out.
Before the man could ask the reason for slowing, D told him, “Take the reins.”
“Sure thing!”
As he accepted them, a black shape flew past him. D had bounded. His leap had taken into account the speed of the pursuing carriage.
Landing on the roof of the vengeful spirits’ carriage, the Hunter drew his blade. Not a single motion was wasted.
“Watch yourself. We’re dealing with ghosts here!” the hoarse voice said, its words mixing with the sounds of gunfire.
Shots from inside the vehicle were ripping through the ceiling. One bullet hole after another gouged the roof, but every shot missed D. Though they’d seen D’s leap, they didn’t know exactly where he’d landed. His body had touched down without making a sound.
The shooting moved to the rear. Advancing to the bullet-riddled front portion, D used the tip of his sword to scribe a circle about three feet in diameter. It looked perfectly round. As soon as he’d finished tracing the figure, D planted one foot in the center of it. A round hole opened in the roof. And the figure of beauty leapt into the hole.
As JJ was straining to see, Louise came up beside him. The stagecoach was finally running normally again.
“You sure you should be doing this?” JJ asked, tossing his chin toward the rear of the vehicle. He was referring to Dorleac.
“It’s fine. Everyone’s okay. I asked Al to watch him. But we’ve got some injured folks. Stop the stage.”
“No can do. D’s—oh my God!”
The enemy carriage had halted its mad run. D appeared from its roof. His blade was back in its sheath. The deadly battle within the vehicle was at an end.
Working the reins, JJ drove the stagecoach over by the carriage. When it was within range of D’s earlier jump, the black form once again leapt up and sailed down onto the roof of the stagecoach.
“Get below,” the Hunter told the sheriff.
Louise got up to leave without putting up a fight. She’d confirmed that JJ was okay.
“The carriage is going.”
JJ’s words made Louise and D turn their heads.
The carriage spawned by restless spirits had slowly begun to roll off to the west.
“Where do you suppose it’s headed?” the sheriff mused.
“Somewhere there’s no people,” JJ replied. “And there it’ll wait, until some fresh hate becomes its passengers.”
“It never ends, does it? The anger and hate. And yet the good memories never seem to last.”
Raising a cloud of dust, the masterless carriage disappeared into the far reaches of the wilderness.
II
“Get everyone up.”
Having been left with those instructions by Louise, Al immediately got to his feet. In the seating area, Claire and Harman still seemed to be unconscious. Al wondered rather dubiously why Louise hadn’t bothered to wake anyone else up. Being unconscious was the same as being asleep. What if the enemy were to appear in their dreams?
A cold hand was placed on Al’s shoulder. He was going to pull away, but piercing pain in his neck and waist stopped him. The hand on his shoulder moved to his neck. A pleasant chill spread over his pain, astonishing Al.
The pain had vanished.
“Wh-what are you—?”
“Hold still, please. I learned this technique from Duke Sinistre. If I make contact long enough, it can cure even chronic conditions.”
“Isn’t your arm supposed to be broken or something?”
“It’s better already,” Dorleac said with a laugh.
“Are—are you serious?”
“Surely you must see by now. Oh, you’ve got a crack in one of your cervical vertebrae. Does it hurt?”
“No—I don’t feel a thing.”
The cold, magic touch dropped to his waist. Pain that went back half a decade quickly receded.
“Judging from your condition, I’d say you’ve been this way for about five years. I could fix it in an hour or so.”
“You—you could?”
“Yes. But a human doctor never could.”
“You mean nobody but you can do it? But you could fix me up?”
“Yes.”
“Can you do other illnesses, too? Like the wounds from the bite of a bloodsucking gnat?”
“Child’s play.”
Al fell silent.
The dashing young man read the chaos in the deputy’s heart.
“Your children’s ailment—I’ll make it better. It’s not just itchiness, is it? After you’ve been bitten, the skin dissolves, and no matter what medicine you put on it the skin just keeps oozing pus. The itching is so painful, most children last less than a year.”
“Stop it.”
“I’ll cure it for you,” Dorleac said, his voice blowing cool breath and fearful notions into Al’s ear. “If you get me out of here. Later, I promise I’ll call on your home.”
Ordinarily, these were words no one would ever believe. However, his healing touch had easily turned Al from harsh reality.
A lovely, sweet voice was whispering in his ear.
I wanna believe it, even if it’s a lie, Al thought.
“I can’t do it . . . I won’t betray the others . . . after we’ve come all this way together.”
“If I escape, it’ll only be a problem for the sheriff and the escort brigade. Yes, you’ll probably be punished, but it’s not as if they’ll execute you or anything. I won’t get you into much trouble. You’ll be thoroughly reprimanded, and you won’t get paid, but in return you’ll have treatment for any disease for the rest of your life. As well as for your children.”
Al was at a loss for words.
“What will it be?”
“What should I do?” Al said, his own voice sounding terribly distant.
The hand from Al’s waist took hold of his.
“You have my thanks,” Dorleac said. “Kindly unlock the cage. Then you need only feign ignorance, and I shall do the rest.”
“But the key—”
“Look, it’s right there.”
Even without the young man pointing to it, the deputy knew the location just from his tone. It had fallen right beside the last row of seats. And Louise had gone up to the driver’s seat without noticing.
“If she comes back, she’ll spot it immediately. Hurry and unlock the cage, please.”
“But . . .”
“I’ll cause you no trouble. Once you’ve unlocked the door, simply put the key somewhere else out of sight and pretend you don’t know anything about it.”
Al became confused. And his consciousness suddenly drifted away.
It was dark beyond the windows. Pitch black. However, the entire family knew it was still midday. The flapping of countless wings was the cause of it.
“There’s no cracks anywhere, are there?” Al asked his family, who were clustered in a corner of their living room.
“We’re fine,” his wife replied. “I checked it all the day before yesterday. Not one of them gnats can get in here.”
The faint buzz of wings assailed the group’s eardrums, skimming by the end of his wife’s nose.
“They’re inside! How’d they get in?!” the young farmer exclaimed. Though his body was frozen, apparently he hadn’t forgotten how to turn his head.
His son looked over at the eastern window and said, “Yesterday, me and Daphne were fighting, and a book hit the wall over there. I looked, but didn’t see anything—”
“You idiots!” Al bellowed, spinning around, but by that point a black gale was swirling through the living room.
A heartbeat later it had vanished, and Al looked down to see both his children on the floor scratching all over.
“Ow, it’s so itchy!”
Letting out screams of something far more terrible than pain, his children's skin was peeling away, and their bodies were quickly stained with red.
“A dream,” Al muttered. “This is just a dream. A nightmare.”
“That’s right,” a steely voice from behind him concurred.
When the farmer turned, his eyes met those of the young man in the cage.
“This is a dream,” Dorleac continued. “Therefore, I can save your children right away. Lend me your aid.”
“Can you really do it?”
Although this was a dream, Al knew of the young man’s ability.
“Will you accept my conditions in return?”
“I’ll do anything—just save them!”
“Kindly kill him,” the young man said, pointing toward the children.
Lying there was a young man in black far more lovely than the source of the voice.
“It was this man who allowed your children to be feasted upon by insects. Once he’s gone, I shall provide everything you will ever need for your little ones.”
Al knew his name. He was the man called D. However, he’d never seen him before. Could he weigh that man’s life against those of his son and daughter?
“Okay. I’ll kill him for sure. So, what should I do?”
“As a start, kindly get that for me.”
The young man pointed down by Al’s feet.
“The key?”
“Get it for me, please.”
For a fleeting moment, Al hesitated. Somewhere in his heart a voice was trying to tell him to stop.
“I can’t reach it,” Al said, looking at the young man.
“It’s all right. You can take hold of it. Pick it up and hand it to me, if you please. I can’t reach it myself.”
Al’s determination was as heavy as a stone. He reached out his hand.
The young man nodded.
The tension was so great, the farmer blacked out for a moment.
The first thing Al did was to turn his gaze to the floor in front of him.
The key was right where it’d been.
Good, he thought, relief flooding his chest.
Al went over to the key and picked it up. Turning, he said, “I didn’t give it to you!”
Son of a bitch, he thought, what are you smiling about?
“That’s too bad,” Dorleac said, sounding crestfallen.
Once Al had woken the others, Louise came back down.
“That carriage has taken off,” the sheriff announced. “How’s everyone?”
On hearing a chorus of replies to the effect that they were fine, Louise seemed satisfied, but when Al stealthily handed her the key, she stared at him with an ashen face.
“He’s the one who spotted it. It’s okay. He asked me to let him out, but naturally I refused.”
Planting a hand on one of his strong shoulders, Louise said, “That’s great.”
“But why didn’t you get everybody up before you headed up top? We weren’t supposed to fall asleep, right?”
“Being asleep and unconscious aren’t the same thing, you know.”
“They’re not?”
“I’ll thank you to remember that.”
“Understood,” Al replied, satisfied. He had a good enough head on his shoulders to know it wasn’t wise to question the sheriff any further. On the other hand, he suddenly thought of something. D had to have known that everyone had been knocked out. Yet since he hadn’t come down here, he probably didn’t suspect anything.
Once the stagecoach returned to the highway, Chauvet and two members of the escort party—who’d all been left behind—pulled up on either side of the vehicle. A man like Chauvet probably would’ve loved to chew somebody’s ass over starting a fight without his permission, but after seeing the deadly battle on the carriage and how the stagecoach had moved as if possessed, he couldn’t say boo about it.
“By the way, shouldn’t the rest of the escort brigade be along anytime now?” JJ said, squinting his eyes to scan the far reaches of the wilderness.
“That’s right. Soon enough—oh, here they come!”
At the very edge of JJ’s visibility, a number of figures came into view, shimmering like a heat mirage. It was an approaching group of horsemen.
Twenty elite riders halted in front of Chauvet. D even stopped the stagecoach. One of the men rode forward, saying, “Captain, here’s a special delivery hot from the Capital.”
He handed Chauvet a communiqué tube. There was only a single sheet of official correspondence inside it. Running his eyes across it, Chauvet banged on the stagecoach’s door. Harman opened it.
“The sheriff around?”
When Louise came out, Chauvet handed her the paper from the communiqué tube and grinned. Putting it back in the tube, Louise said, “I’ll hold on to this.”
“Do what you want. Just don’t forget that an hour from now, all responsibility for the prisoner goes to me.”
“Of course.”
Louise went back inside the stagecoach.
“What was all that?” Harman asked the sheriff.
“Seems there was a little bit of an uproar in the Capital.”
“Huh?”
As Louise went back to the cage, Harman and Claire trained odd looks on her.
“I wonder if something’s up.”
“Definitely,” the bar girl replied.
“Maybe the sheriff got her walking papers?”
“Oh, that would be perfect.”
The two of them purposely spoke loudly enough so that Louise would hear them.
The stagecoach rolled out.
In front of the cage, Louise said to the occupant, “It’ll be time for us to say goodbye soon.”
“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”
“Made arrangements for your escape?”
“More or less.”
“You’re just as composed as always,” Louise said, and leaning back against the wall, she began to plot how she could slay D.
III
On the distant plain an expanse of verdant green came into view. The town of Canaluda, with the airfield on its outskirts, was the intersection point of four highways and a key point on the Frontier. The District Control Center and many other administrative agencies were in this hub, which was nearly ten times the size of Happy Gringo, with a population to match. The manmade forests and lakes that surrounded it were a product of generous budgets and the tax revenues from the booming business in their enormous pleasure district.
