Stories From the Shadowlands (6 page)

BOOK: Stories From the Shadowlands
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And when I woke up, I heard growling. Whining. Coughing. Then retreating footsteps followed by silence. I have no idea how long I was lying on the ground, wondering if Takeshi was near, but I started to shiver. I focused on the pain, trying to stay alert, promising myself that if I survived, I would kill Takeshi for coming up with this idiotic plan.

But then a face appeared above me. A dark-haired man. One of Takeshi's countrymen, judging by its language preference. A Mazikin, judging by the stench coming off it. "You're the new Guard," it said in Japanese. "You're obviously not very good."

"Obviously not," I agreed. This was the part where Takeshi was supposed to intervene, but the streets were silent, and it occurred to me that he might have simply left me there. The fear only registered vaguely. I was feeling quite detached from myself at that point. "Are you going to kill me?"

The Mazikin smiled. "In a manner of speaking. You'll love it in my city, Guard."

He bent over me, taking me under the arms and starting to drag me down the street. "The others were too scared to come. But you don't seem very dangerous to me."

"Good," I said, catching the glint of light off a spinning metal blade.

Two knives struck the Mazikin in the shoulders a fraction of a moment later. It dropped me and fell backward, growling. I heard footsteps, and shouting, and then a horrible yelp and a gurgling noise.

I wasn't able to stay conscious long enough to find out what happened, and now I am lying in this apartment bedroom, still too tired to do anything but write.

Day 1617

"—rash and dangerous," said Raphael. "Entirely inexcusable."

"It worked," replied Takeshi.

"Did it?" Raphael's voice took on a rare edge that had me straining to catch whatever else he was saying, but he spoke too softly.

"I didn't force him to go along with the plan," Takeshi finally said.

"You're his Captain. He is required to follow your orders."

"I never wanted to be his Captain!"

"And I doubt he wanted to be your Lieutenant, but frankly, wants are irrelevant."

Raphael is nothing if not consistent. They continued to argue, Raphael calmly and Takeshi less so. I lay there, feeling like a child, and when I could bear it no more, I shouted, "I did it willingly! And we got him, didn't we?"

Their argument fell silent, and a moment later both of them came into the room. Raphael looked placid, but Takeshi's expression was grim. I looked back and forth between them. "Is Sil here, too? Is he our prisoner?"

Raphael gestured at Takeshi, who shook his head. "Sil is not our prisoner."

I looked at Raphael, who promptly and unhelpfully disappeared. Takeshi sighed and sat down next to my cot. "After I disabled him with the knives, I got to the two of you as quickly as I could. But he was too fast." He bowed his head. "Before I could secure him, he pulled one of the blades from his shoulder and stabbed himself in the neck with it."

"He's dead," I said quietly.

Takeshi raised his head. "No, stop thinking like that. He escaped. And he'll return."

"So we failed."

"We failed."

Day 1618

"I'm sorry for throwing you out the window," said Takeshi.

"You're only sorry because it didn't work."

"True," he said.

We were on the roof, eating our meager dinner of tinned soup beneath the hazy black sky. "You didn't mention that Sil was also Japanese."

Takeshi laughed. "Listen to yourself," he said. "You forget what they are."

He was right. I felt so foolish that I clamped my mouth shut. Maybe Takeshi felt a bit guilty for nearly killing me, though, because he didn't ridicule me further. "After the last time I defeated him, he stole a body that resembled mine in some ways, one with knowledge of my native language."

I asked him what that meant, and he smiled without humor. "It means that this has become personal to him, I suppose. We'll see if I'm right. But we won't know until he returns."

Day 1620

This morning we set out for the Station. Takeshi said that we have to patrol other parts of the city so the Mazikin do not gain a toehold elsewhere. As we walked, I thought back to the time I spent flat on my back on the cold concrete, waiting for a Mazikin to find me. I remembered the sounds, the coughing and whining. It sounded like a stray dog, though I've never seen an animal here.

"How do the Mazikin communicate?" I asked Takeshi.

"Many ways. They prefer to speak in a human tongue while occupying human bodies."

"But they have their own?"

He nodded. "They use it only when they care about being overheard, or when two of them are occupying bodies that do not share a common language."

"Can you decipher this Mazikin language?" I asked.

He chuckled. "It is nothing more than animal sounds."

So that was what I heard that day I lay dying on the pavement. "But they are very intelligent animals. If we could learn to understand their language, it would give us one more advantage."

He muttered something that sounded distinctly like, "Impossible."

That settled it. "I'm going to do it. I will learn to understand them."

"Like you're mapping this enormous, ever-changing city?" he asked in a derisive tone, but then his mocking expression changed suddenly. Perhaps because he was thinking of the map that now occupies one square meter of a wall in my quarters. "Do you think we could do that?"

He actually sounded hopeful. I almost said NO, just to avoid the risk of disappointing him. Instead, I shrugged. "We will lose nothing by trying."

Day 1794

We have returned to the sector southwest of downtown because of more frequent Guard reports of Mazikin sightings in this area. We had been tracking Mazikin in the northwestern part of the city, in what has been called the Harag zone, a name that gives me chills. Takeshi said the Mazikin have often settled there, because it is relatively central within the city but keeps downtown between them and the Guards. It is an utterly dismal place, but that does not make it unique within these city walls.

Tomorrow, we will patrol separately to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. Our official mission is to find the nest, but I can tell from Takeshi's mood that he is anticipating seeing Sil again soon. Unfortunately, the Mazikin has the advantage, in that we will not recognize him unless he reveals himself to us because he will be inhabiting a different body. This time, though, we are determined to find him, capture him and make the dark tower his final and permanent prison.

Day 1800

Today I was patrolling near a seemingly empty warehouse when I caught a scent. But it wasn't Mazikin.

It smelled like death. I know this smell.

With my hands sweating over the handles of my knives, I crept into the building to investigate. When people commit suicide within this city, their bodies remain only briefly before disappearing. I believe that when they do, it is because they have reappeared at the Gates, or wherever they are to go next.

But when I entered the first floor of the building, I saw them, six bodies laid out on the floor. Someone had desecrated the remains in ways I do not wish to remember or describe. Horrified, I stayed only long enough to sweep the building, which was deserted, and then went straight back to the apartment. I am now waiting for Takeshi to return.

People in this city do not kill each other—they only kill themselves. But these bodies did not bear the marks of suicide. And they weren't disappearing. Something is very wrong about this.

Day 1801

When Takeshi returned from his patrol, I told him what I had found in the warehouse. He insisted that I take him there immediately. We found the bodies waiting, just as I had left them. When Takeshi saw them, he cursed.

"I know what this means," he said. "Look at these bodies."

I did. "They're similar to each other." They were all male, all young and powerfully built, all with blond hair.

"They have brought in a particular Mazikin. One I have not seen for a long time. One I believed we would never see again. One who prefers this type of body. If these men could speak, it would be in English."

"How do you know?"

"Because Philip and I faced him many times. Sil may be the clever one, but this one is purely cruel and vicious." Takeshi turned away from the bodies. "He calls himself Nero."

Day 1802

Known and Currently Active Mazikin:

Sil: leader. Preferred host: Japanese male

Nero: enforcer (leader?). Preferred host: American male

Doris: enforcer. Preferred host: German male or female

Kenzi: recruiter. Preferred host: Varies

Clarence: recruiter. Preferred host: elderly male, nationality varies. Note: files teeth

Jof: scout. Preferred host: African male or female

Ara: scout. Preferred host: Russian female.

This is all Takeshi was able to tell me. After he told me about Nero, I asked him to report all of the known Mazikin—the ones who have returned repeatedly and who have had contact with the Guards. There are many others, of course, but these are the bold and strong ones who have not yet been apprehended and taken to the tower. They are our primary targets, the ones we must try not to terminate prematurely because they will return stronger and more cunning. At this time, we do not know if Sil has returned to the city, but Takeshi is certain that Nero has:

The discarded candidates for his host body were mutilated as a message to the Guards that he had returned.

Day 1876

Takeshi has departed for the north to investigate reports of Mazikin activity, though I remain convinced the current nest is in the southwest, and this is merely a distraction. I am leaving for that area shortly, and I will travel alone. The other Guards are aware of my plan, but will not escort me, as that would ruin things. It is my intention to claim an apartment and watch for signs of this Nero character, or any of the other known Mazikin. The more of their leaders we can collar, the more disorganized their operation will be. Unlike Takeshi, who is well known among them, I am but a shadow and a whisper to them, not someone to fear… yet. I believe this to be an advantage.

Day 1878

I have paused in my journey to the southwest, taking an apartment thirty blocks directly south of the center of downtown. I spent the day as a citizen of this city. My weapons carefully concealed, my clothes lifted from a nearby GARMENTS emporium. Ill-fitting and smelling of bitter mold, they made me crave my uniform and armor. Still, any Mazikin can easily spot me if I wear my usual attire, so I am now outfitted like everyone else.

I wandered the streets, moving slowly. I have realized how difficult it is to behave in a way that now feels completely unnatural, though I must have been like this when I first arrived in the city. The people here do not look at each other. They do not greet each other or notice each other. Sometimes they collide on the sidewalk, and they merely get to their feet and move on without exchanging a single word, kind or angry. I had to force myself to keep my head down and my eyes to the front, because people here are not curious. If I expect to fool any Mazikin, I will need to perfect this act before I arrive at my destination.

Day 1889

I am injured. Today I captured the Mazikin Nero. He clawed my thigh and bit my arm. Was able to wave down a Guard, who has gone to fetch Raphael. Am now waiting, guarding my prize, who is taunting me to the point that I am sorely tempted to cut his throat. I will write more when I have been healed, assuming I survive.

Day 1890

Still waiting. Trying to remain conscious. Nero is enjoying watching my slow demise. If Raphael doesn't arrive soon I'm afraid I wi

Day 1891

Recovering. It's a bit foggy, but I know Raphael and two Guards arrived last night. Raphael refused to enter the room because Nero was there and he will not interact with the Mazikin. I would not leave the room until I was certain Nero was well-guarded. I am now in a separate apartment, which makes me uneasy. What happened two days ago is still firmly planted in my mind.

I had been meandering in an alley between two larger thoroughfares when a voice spoke to me from the darkness. "What are you looking for?" it said in English. His accent sounded very much like Philip's.

I did not answer, because people in this city tend not to. I slid my hands into my pockets, which concealed two knives and a set of cuffs we use to restrain Mazikin prisoners. "What do you seek?" the voice asked. "I can help you find it."

Still I did not answer, and so he stepped into my path, and I allowed myself to blunder into him. I nearly cursed when I felt how solid he was. Young and strong, nearly as tall as I am. "You're perfect, you know," he said.

I raised my eyes to his. "What am I perfect for, Nero?"

The moment his eyes sparked with the recognition of his name, I attacked. He was faster than I expected, and his nails had been sharpened to claws. I was bleeding before I felt the wound.

But I returned the favor.

"I know someone who would wear your skin better than you do," he growled as I escorted him back to my apartment. His words were twisted because I had knocked out several of his teeth, but still he spoke. On and on, about what this Mazikin would do with my body, the atrocities he would commit, the ways he would make others suffer.

It made me wish I did not understand English. It is such an ugly language sometimes.

I will write more tomorrow. I am so tired.

Day 1892

"We could be on the same side," Nero said as we set out for the Station this morning. I had intended to deliver him to a rendezvous point and let Rais, one of the inhuman Guards who is quite competent and serious, take Nero from there. However, I am convinced he is too dangerous to allow out of my sight.

"We could never be on the same side," I replied.

"The Mazikin are persecuted by the Judge," he said. "We come from a terrible place. Kept prisoner there. Can you blame us for wanting to be free?"

"I blame you for hurting people here."

He laughed. "These people are not alive. My Mazikin are. We live our one life, and we fight for it. These people did not fight for theirs."

BOOK: Stories From the Shadowlands
4.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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