Tale of the Dead Town (5 page)

“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.