The mourning noises fell silent.
“You’ll find the other one around the back,” Kojiro said. “When you leave, take them with you.”
Kojiro walked back into the bedroom. He shut the balcony doors behind him, blocking out the cold air and everything else. He sat on the bedroom floor with his back pinned up against the bedroom wall.
His hands curled into tightly clenched fists.
Just go.
He heard muted voices whispering on the street. Had Kojiro’s actions distressed them enough to think again? He wanted to believe but he couldn’t forget the offended look in Morrison’s eyes. If it were Kojiro down there, would he just pack up and go? Or would he want revenge?
Somebody shouted – “1-2-3…”
Kojiro felt a fat bassline shaking the walls of the house and rattling his bones. Music blared out of the speakers and it was instantly recognisable.
‘Ain’t No Stopping Us Now’.
He banged his head against the bedroom wall.
“No!” he cried out.
He sat there in a crumpled heap on the floor listening to the song as it played out.
Then he heard something else.
Someone was banging on the front door. Not just the front door either – the whole house was shaking, like a sudden earthquake had taken hold of London. But it wasn’t an earthquake. Kojiro knew exactly what was going on outside. The Vampire People were banging at the windows and the walls and on the garage door and whatever else they could find. They’d surrounded the house – front, back and sides.
It was an excruciating racket.
Chapter 7
Zander. There’s somebody at the door.
What’s with all that banging? Friends of yours boy?
Kojiro was on the floor, curling his body up into a tight ball. He wanted nothing more than to disappear, to shut off the noise inside and outside of his head.
How long had they been banging at the house like that? Five minutes? Ten? They weren’t coming in, at least not yet. They were toying with him, torturing him and letting Kojiro know that if they really wanted to, they could do anything they wanted. And that included driving him mad.
The music had stopped. Only the brutal rhythm of the Vampire People assaulting the house was left. He imagined them hitting the building with their hands and feet and sticks and bats. It was tireless. Kojiro felt like he was sitting inside a large kick drum with no way out.
Answer me boy!
“No Dad,” Kojiro said, burying his face in his palms. There were streaks of blood there from when he’d carried the boy upstairs. “They’re not friends of mine.”
Why can’t you have normal friends Zander?
“I just said they weren’t friends of mine. Why can’t you ever listen?”
You were always a disappointment boy. Even before you killed us.
Kojiro tucked his legs tight against his body. Then he wrapped his arms around his knees and squeezed till it hurt. He’d done that a lot when he was a kid – create one type of pain to distract him from another.
He had to get out of the house. No doubt about it. And if he did get out, he’d never come back. Having access to his father’s armoury wasn’t worth the price anymore. Those voices, the smell of decaying flesh and worst of all, the fact that those things weren’t weird anymore.
But he didn’t want the Vampire People to get their hands on the armoury. That thought was almost as bad as staying in the house and listening to the ghosts in his head for the rest of his life.
The angry mob continued their assault on the house. The wolves let loose, both of them howling at the same time in spine-tingling unison. Kojiro lifted his head and listened. It was terrifying and beautiful, and it floated across the night like two lost souls crying out in the darkness.
That dissonant chorus of noise – his parents’ voices, the banging on the house, the wolves and all the stray thoughts in his head – Kojiro couldn’t contain them for much longer. They were swimming around in a thick murderous stew in his head. He had to do something. He couldn’t just sit there, listening and waiting for madness to creep up through the floorboards and drag what was left of his mind down into insanity.
Boy!
“Be quiet!”
Shut those beasts up! They’re giving me a headache.
“How can you have a headache? You’re dead!”
Kojiro stared into the darkness. His father’s voice came after him and it was as he tried to shake off Eiji’s ghost that an idea occurred to him. It was a ridiculous idea – grotesque and destined to fail.
But what else did he have?
He sat up straight. With both hands, he lifted the hood of the coat over his head. Now his face was hidden deep under the charred, bloodstained fabric. Kojiro got back to his feet and went over to a small window on the front-facing wall, a little further down from the balcony doors. He tucked himself into the side of the window so that he was partially exposed to the Vampire People. Then carefully, Kojiro crouched down until he was almost in a sitting position. Only his head was visible from the outside.
He looked like a shrouded Peeping Tom, peeking out at the neighbours.
He stayed there, watching the Vampire People and letting them see him do it. He leaned forwards, pressing his head up against the cold glass. The longer he crouched, the more his legs burned.
Just a little longer.
Morrison stood at the edge of the driveway, looking up at Kojiro with a satisfied grin on his face. He had to know he was getting the better of his opponent with all that noise. The man didn’t look in the least bit troubled. Miss Minty was looking up at Kojiro with that dead look in her eyes. The other Vampire People were either standing on the road or attacking the house.
“I see you,” Morrison said. “Stranger.”
Kojiro didn’t move. Despite the pain in his calves, he kept still.
Morrison signalled to his people to halt their attack on the house. It was an eerie, uncomfortable silence that followed.
“You know it’s not too late,” Morrison said. “There’s still time for you to leave. You’ve spilled blood but we understand – you’re trying to survive. I respect that. You’re only doing what anyone would do in your situation. But the fact remains – we ARE taking this house and everything in it. You don’t have to be in it when we take it. Last chance now.”
Kojiro’s head pressed up against the cold glass. He wasn’t interested in talking to Morrison. He just wanted the leader of the Vampire People to see him.
“You’re a stubborn fellow,” Morrison said. “What is your name?”
Kojiro didn’t answer.
“Shame,” Morrison said. “You’re interesting and I dislike killing interesting people.”
Morrison lifted his hand and dropped it. The assault on the house started all over again. And if possible, it was louder second time around.
Kojiro turned away from the bedroom window. Keeping low, he hurried out of the room and went back into the hallway. Racing downstairs, he followed the reek trail that led towards the servant’s kitchen. He paused at the door, glancing not only at the two corpses but also at the fresh bloodstains on the floor.
“What am I doing?” he said.
He walked over to the kitchen table. What he was about to do, it was sick and it scared him – a lot more than the people pounding on the walls of the house scared him. There had to be a better way. But if there was, Kojiro couldn’t think of one.
He buried his face underneath the collar of the coat. Then he took a long, deep breath filling his lungs with air. Gently, he pulled back the chair with Eiji Kojiro’s rotten corpse stuck in it. The body was leaning back on the seat, upright, tucked in between the two armrests for stability.
Kojiro winced as his hand brushed up against the dead flesh. Physical contact with his father had been non-existent in life. In death it wasn’t any easier.
He placed his hands under the seat and carefully scooped the chair off the ground. As he di
d this, Kojiro tilted the seat back at an angle so that the body wouldn’t fall forwards and crash onto the floor. God, that smell! He grimaced. His father’s head wobbled slightly and for a second, it looked like the old man was turning around to look at Kojiro with that disapproving look he’d done so well in life.
Boy…
“Shut up you old bastard.”
Kojiro proceeded with caution. He walked along the hallway, his fingers locked underneath the seat, his face inches from the back of the body. It was like he was performing a ghoulish circus act – corpse lifting! One that he never wanted to do again. He took the stairs slowly. For a second, he thought he might puke halfway up the stairs. The sick feeling passed. Kojiro then carried the chair to the top of the stairs and thanked the gods it was nearly over.
Once or twice he glanced at his father’s remains. It was like a mouldy wax dummy sitting on the chair. Eiji Kojiro had been a stubborn bastard in both life and death. The body was remarkably well preserved. Keeping his parents in the small kitchen at the back of the house, sealing it off to air and other decomposing factors had preserved the bodies better then he’d expected. The skin on his father’s corpse was intact even if all the other organs had decomposed. The old man’s face was still recognisable – it was leathery, like a scowling parchment.
You saw your chance didn’t you boy? In 2011 when the city fell, you saw your chance. You enjoyed the way it felt when you killed me. Didn’t you? Tell me. That was your first kill and it’s still the sweetest. It’ll always be the sweetest. Tell me boy, how many people have you killed since? Lost count, haven’t you?
Kojiro hurried towards the guest bedroom. When he got there, he put the chair down, reaching a hand out to prevent his father’s body from toppling forwards. But there was no need to worry – it was stuck tight to the chair. It was a servant’s chair too – that would have enraged Eiji.
Kojiro took off his coat and wrapped it around the back of the chair. He then pulled both ends over the body, fastening the bottom two buttons to keep it in place. Finally, he lifted the hood and dropped it over his father’s rotten head.
He took a step back and looked at Eiji. It was crude and creepy but it worked. From outside at least, it might look like Kojiro was back sitting at the bedroom window, staring out at the Vampire People.
He pushed the chair forwards. Kojiro kept low as he tucked it into the side of the bedroom window. Half of his father’s body was hidden from the street. With any luck, it looked like it did when Kojiro was crouching there a few minutes earlier.
Outside, the hammering noise stopped. There was a long pause before a soft voice floated up from the driveway.
“I see you,” Morrison said.
Kojiro smiled. That’s right.
“You think I don’t see you?” Morrison said. “Are you thinking about my offer? You’re probably thinking about other things – childhood memories and how nice it was to grow up around here. You don’t want to give that up but I assure you stranger, we’ll take good care of your house. It’s cold outside. We have other stops to make tonight and we really must be moving on. So here’s what’s going to happen. You have five minutes to come out. You have my word that I’ll let you walk without a scratch. But if you don’t come out, we come in.”
There was a brief pause.
“Five minutes,” Morrison said. “Starting now.”
Chapter 8
Kojiro crawled out of the bedroom on his hands and knees.
He jumped back to his feet when he reached the hallway. Then he ran downstairs. He felt lighter without the big coat weighing him down – all he had on now was a dark sweater and matching jeans and boots. It felt like he’d shed his skin. All the painful memories attached to that coat – and there were plenty of them – weren’t pressing down on him anymore.
The light was on in the downstairs hallway. At the foot of the stairs, Kojiro trod gently. He had to be quick and quiet. The clock was ticking on his five-minute window but it was important that the Vampire People didn’t hear him moving around the house. After all, he was supposed to be up there watching them from the bedroom window.
It was so quiet out front – like there was nobody there at all.
Kojiro crept along the hallway towards the armoury. As gently as he could, he slid the key into the lock and pulled the steel door open. It was like an explosion in his ears. With another glance towards the front door, he hurried down the ramp.
His eyes scoured the room, searching for the weapon that could yet save the day. It was hanging on the wall, an ancient and deadly piece of art. It was a Yumi – a longbow that had once been a distinctive feature of Japanese military history. This particular Yumi was one of Eiji Kojiro’s high-quality replicas that he’d had shipped over from Japan to London many years ago. It was a large weapon – about seven feet in length and made from a combination of wood, bamboo and leather.
Kojiro walked over to the longbow.
There was a quiver of arrows housed in one of the nearby display cases. Kojiro rushed over and pulled the glass door open and took a single arrow from the quiver. The arrow was brass-tipped and fletched with turkey feathers. Just holding it in his hand brought back childhood memories. Eiji Kojiro had been highly skilled with the weapon and had taught his son from an early age how to use it. But the younger Kojiro had always preferred the close up combat of sword fighting. There was something more intimate and honourable about it that suited him. With a little luck however, he’d remember enough about the Yumi to be able to shoot an arrow into Morrison’s heart.
Kojiro detached the Yumi from the wall and along with the arrow, hurried back up the ramp and into the hallway. He sped through the dark house, making his way towards the rear of the building.
He ran into the servant’s kitchen and stopped. The sight of his mother’s corpse sitting alone at the table took him aback. It was odd seeing her like that and Kojiro felt a stab of guilt for separating his parents.
“Sorry,” he said. And he felt stupid for saying it.
He went over to the window and pulled back the blinds. Taking a look outside, Kojiro noticed that the boy he’d stabbed through the eye was gone. The Vampire People must have come around the back and taken his body away.
“Or maybe he’s a real vampire,” Kojiro said. He didn’t laugh at his own joke.
He looked at the window. It was small but Kojiro felt capable of squeezing his slim frame through the gap. The problem was that the bow was too big. Way too big. He’d have to go out the back door, which was next to the washing machine on the far side of the room. Opening the door was louder than slipping through the window. But then again, everything was loud so what the hell?
Kojiro didn’t have a key for the back door but as he looked at it, he saw it could be unlocked from a latch on the inside.
He pulled up the latch and the hook clicked as it slid out of the groove. That click was deafening. Kojiro moved the door back a couple of inches. Then he peered outside. He saw nothing but darkness and a hint of overgrown grass poking out of the snow.
He crept past the door into the cold night.
Immediately he heard something. Footsteps crashed through the snow, coming towards him. Kojiro turned to his left and saw a short, stocky man with long black hair and red eyes like two giant cigarettes glowing in the night. He was wielding an iron bar in his right hand.
A guard – it had to be. Morrison had sent someone around the back to keep watch and whoever it was, they’d ducked out of sight when Kojiro had opened the kitchen blinds to check if the coast was clear. Clever vampire. This man looked older than the rest of the gang. His face was craggy and scarred like he’d lived a little before he became one of the undead. He was in his thirties or forties. He was bigger than the others too. This was the muscle of the organisation. No more boys being sent to do a man’s job.
Kojiro dropped the Yumi onto the grass. He reached for the short sword at his waist and watched the vampire man charge towards him like an angry bull.
The man rushed forwards, swinging hard and clumsy with the metal pole. Like so many big, strong men that Kojiro had encountered, he relied on brute strength to get his killing done. Skill and technique were neglected.
Kojiro dodged the man’s initial blows with ease by stepping to his right, away from the opponent’s power arm. He circled the enemy, creating just enough distance to avoid the incoming attacks. He could have toyed with this man, tormented him and turned this ‘fight’ into a game. On any other day he would have done so but that wasn’t an option right now.
His five minutes were almost over.
He avoided a couple more crude blows. Then he moved to his left, bringing the man onto his right side – his sword arm. Kojiro leapt forward and thrust the sword at the vampire man’s chest. The xiphos was a lightning-quick blur that sliced through the flesh. The vampire man gasped and his eyes bulged in horror.
It had taken one blow to end it.
Kojiro pulled the sword out and caught the fresh corpse as he fell. He quickly brought the dead man down onto the snow and laid him on his back. Then he stood up and listened. There were no footsteps. Nobody else was coming after him, not yet.
The winter sky was full of stars. Kojiro glanced upwards, wishing he had time to admire the view, as he slid his sword back into the scabbard. Then he turned around and found the Yumi in the tall grass and picked it up, along with the arrow.
He tiptoed around to the side of the house. His feet followed the narrow concrete pathway that led from front to back, which was covered in a fine layer of snow. He kept his step as light as possible. Slowly, he edged his way towards streetside, his back pressed up tight against the house. Thank God it was dark or he’d have no chance of remaining unseen from the front. He was fortunate that he’d grown up in such a long and lavish house, which allowed a little distance between where he was hiding and those gathered out front.
He peered out from the side of the building.
The Future of London Box Set Page 75