by Asa Nonami
"OK!"
His mood was instantly taut. Takizawa sat up straight and leaned forward. No sign of Otomichi. She'd already gotten off the expressway.
"We're off the expressway, going straight ahead on the street below. Passing under the viaduct now."
"Roger! Watch that curve."
Their car had finally left the expressway, too, at the Wangan Narashino Interchange. Over the radio, the supervisor was telling headquarters to notify the Chiba prefectural police.
"We're at the second traffic light—he went straight ahead. I can see the entrance to the Wangan Chiba Interchange."
"Don't tell me he's going back on the expressway," muttered Takizawa.
As he said that, Otomichi's voice came in: "Gale turned. Turned right at the third traffic light."
Takizawa leaned forward, peering out through the front windshield. He had lost sight of her red taillight.
"There's a building on the right, looks like a school. The road curves left in front of it. There's a school on the left."
Otomichi's reports were growing more detailed. Imazeki was frowning as he kept his foot on the accelerator. Takizawa held on tightly to the grip over the door, preparing for a sharp turn, and for the first time felt like praying: Don't let me lose sight of her. Soon the tiny red light of her taillight came into view. "That's her," he said, and at the same moment the light disappeared from his line of sight.
"We're going under what looks like an overhead railway, curving along with the road."
"OK!"
Hastily he glanced down at the road map spread out in his lap. It had to be the Keiyo Line. Gale was headed for the sea.
"There's a thicket on the left, a park, I think. Ah—"
"What happened?"
"Gale went into the thicket. I'm going in after him."
"Is it safe? Hey!" He yelled so loudly into the transmitter that spittle flew from his mouth. Going into the park? Riding through trees? "Otomichi!"
No answer. Imazeki, who had been driving parallel to the expressway, now swung sharply to the left. Sure enough, something like a park spread before them. But nowhere in its dark expanse was the shining red taillight of her bike visible. Ahead of them was only the vast, deserted road, shooting forward like the boom of a cannon.
As Imazeki started to slow down, Takizawa bellowed, "Keep going! Don't leave Otomichi on her own! If she gets attacked while we're slowed down, that'll be the end!"
His blood was boiling. His palms now sweaty, Takizawa concentrated every ounce of his being on staring on into the darkness.
8
Gale bounded lightly over the park shrubbery. Takako, from force of habit, had lowered her speed after they left the elevated expressway and now, back on the ground, she felt Gale's energy anew; seeing him fly through the air above the shrubbery, she couldn't hold back the thrill, the wonder. But beneath her, her tires were spinning. There was no way she could run the way Gale did, oblivious to expressway or a road, on grass or over dirt. So she roared after him like one possessed. If she so much as glanced away, he disappeared—but the next moment he would reappear, running through the trees, entirely in his element, where he belonged, in a forest.
"Otomichi, where are you?"
In her helmet, Takizawa's voice sounded. But she could not afford to reply. Not now. No matter how good her motorcycle skills were, this sort of delicate handling required full attention. For now, she needed to focus on getting through the park, racing through the woods ahead. And that was when her tires slipped in the mud.
Oh no!
The thought came too late. She lost her balance, and her left foot touched the soft ground. She thought she might be able to pull out of it, but this motorcycle, not made for off-road adventures, was too heavy: in a split second, her CB400 overturned. Instantly, with a kick at the motorcycle, she rounded her body protectively. She was not pinned beneath the machine, but thrown off. Her back slammed against the base of a tree, and she rolled over. For a second her breath stopped, her mind went blank. Above her was a sky full of stars, waiting for the dawn.
Beautiful.
She wanted to close her eyes and go on lying there. She felt tired, overcome by a sudden fit of drowsiness. But the next moment, she came to herself: Get up! What in god's name are you doing?
Tentatively, she took a deep breath. Good, she could breathe. She'd landed on soft dirt; she wasn't injured. Realizing this, Takako hurriedly got up and righted her overturned bike. The darkness of night was profound. In the air was the smell of winter decay, and the barest hint of spring. She mustn't get anxious now, she knew, and yet she could have wept with frustration.
After coming so far!
She pushed her bike along until she came out of the muddy patch before sitting astride it again. Then, her hands shaking with fatigue and tension, she switched the engine back on.
"Otomichi, come in!"
Mud and dry grass were all over her shield, obscuring her view. If she tried to rub them off, that would only make it harder to see. There was nothing to do but ride with the shield raised. She turned on her headlight.
"Otomichi, what's happening?! Have you lost him?"
"No, I haven't lost him. He's still here in the park." She said this into the microphone, staring suddenly straight ahead in disbelief. Gale was standing in the cone of light from her headlight, looking directly at her. He was not thirty feet away, his green eyes shining just as they had several hours ago.
Why?
His breath streamed white. Faint steam seemed to rise from his body. Why didn't he run? Or was he—? No. While Gale was breathing hard, the expression on his face seemed peaceful. He showed not the slightest sign of intent to attack. Rather, he seemed to be viewing her with sympathetic interest, as if asking: Are you quitting?
Is this a test?
His gaze held her transfixed. In his eyes she read immense pride, stern intolerance of lies and betrayal, isolation. The look in his eyes was peaceful, remote.
"Gale."
She whispered his name, and the large, erect ears pricked slightly. With a doubtful look, he tilted his head the tiniest bit. Takako held her breath, continuing to gaze into his eyes. As long as he didn't move, she couldn't either.
Yet it was clear: Gale had been waiting for her. After she'd run with him from his house in Akishima across the expressway and all the way here to Makuhari, he had, for whatever reason, waited for her.
He wants something.
Sudden pain filled her heart. To be called by name, to be accepted for himself, to know peace of mind. Kasahara, whom he had trusted from the bottom of his heart, and Emiko, who had remained a little girl even in adulthood: no doubt he was continually seeking, continually waiting for them. Takako could feel it. Why was he left alone? Why did Kasahara never come for him? Why must he be hunted down? Who are you? With his single-minded gaze, Gale poured out these questions to her.
"Otomichi, do you read me?"
Takizawa's voice again. But Takako could not reply. Gale's eyes had her trapped. I am alone, they said. If you want to come up face-to-face with me, then you cannot turn to anyone for help. I do not want to fight, nor do I ask for single combat. I want answers to my questions. Why was I betrayed? Why was I abandoned? Why—
"Officer Otomichi, come in. Where are you? Are you all right?"
Now it was the captain's voice. Still Takako remained silent, face-to-face with Gale. She had no explanations to offer. She could not offer him safe harbor. It was not her that Gale had chosen anyway, she knew. But no lie, no deception could get past those eyes.
"Otomichi! Do you read me?!"
Resignedly, she pushed the transmit button on her radio. "I'm all right. I'm—"
At that moment, Gale turned, and the next thing she knew, he had taken off again, darting swiftly among the trees. Takako hurriedly squeezed the clutch lever. Good, the bike seemed unharmed, too.
"What happened just now? Officer Otomichi, come in!"
"I'm giving chase. He stopped
for a moment, but now he's started running again. Ahead I see high-rises."
As she made her report, she felt a strange guilt. For a second, Gale had given her a chance. He had tested her to find out if she was someone he could trust. That was all she could think. But Takako had not been able to respond. Gale, I have to pursue you. I have to catch you.
The park came to an end. She was on the alert, thinking Gale might swing back this way in a U-turn, but he tore through the park shrubbery and emerged on pavement.
"We're on the street. On both sides of the street there are tall buildings, and straight ahead is a pedestrian overpass."
Under the streetlights Gale ran on, with never a backward glance. She hadn't noticed it before, but now she felt throbbing pain from shoulder to hip, and in her elbows and knees.
"He's turned left at the pedestrian overpass. On the left I can see . . . the New Otani Hotel. On the right is Makuhari Messe."
Further on was the sea. Where was Gale headed? As Takako sped along with the shield on her helmet raised, the wind on her face slowly grew moist. From all sides came the sound of patrol sirens, like waves. This artificial town known as Marine New City Center was as devoid of human life as a miniature architectural model.
"On the right I can see Chiba Marine Stadium. Gale is running straight ahead."
"If he keeps on, he'll hit the ocean."
"I can't see the ocean from here. But there's a dark patch of woods."
Another pedestrian overpass came into view. Gale tore along with no letup in speed. Takako could now feel gritty sand beneath her wheels. No! she thought. If I have to make a sharp turn here, I'll spill again. But Gale kept straight on. Without swerving, he entered a small unpaved road. Just as Takako was thinking that this surface was no easier to ride on, before her eyes Gale sprang. With inconceivable lightness and power, he seemed to hang motionless in the air. The next instant, Takako saw the barbed wire. This land, being prepared for development, had been fenced off. She jammed on the brakes and just managed to pull up safely, her rear tire skidding.
"Gale! Wait!"
Ahead was a pine woods. Gale vanished into its black depths.
"This is MP 447 calling MP 22, come in."
"This is MP 22. What's going on?!"
"He went into the woods next to Marine Stadium. It's fenced off. I can't follow."
"Roger. Good work! We'll take it from here."
She said nothing. Her face was frozen. Vacantly, she sat astride her motorcycle, staring into the darkness. Now the scream of sirens came closer, surrounding her. The air echoed with slamming car doors, shouts, footsteps.
First to come up to her was Takizawa. "Hey, you had me worried back there in the park."
While internally reproaching herself, for the life of her she could not frame a coherent reply.
"What happened to you? All that mud!"
She looked up, half dazed, and saw Takizawa, the captain, and other investigators standing there before her. With an effort, she reached to shut off the engine, lowered the kickstand, got off the bike. It was too soon to let the tension drain away.
"I ran into a patch of mud in the park." Good, her voice was steady.
"You mean you fell?"
"Yes."
"Lucky thing you didn't lose sight of him."
"Gale . . . waited for me. He waited till I picked up my bike and got back on."
Their faces registered skepticism. Takizawa alone nodded. I must look horrible, she thought. My lip is split and my face is a wreck, I'm covered with mud, I'm exhausted. Yet unaccountably, Takizawa's eyes looked on her softly, calmly.
"Doesn't surprise me," he said, and gave Takako's shoulder a light pat. She immediately cried out in pain, scrunching her face.
"What, you're hurt?" Sharp concern on his face.
"I'm fine," she said. "I just got bumped around a little." With that, she paced nervously off. What was the next step?
Watanuki's orders, however, were: "You can rest now. We've got him surrounded."
"Yes, but maybe Gale knows where Ogawa—"
"Don't worry, we're checking all parked cars and all hotel guest registers."
There was nothing she could say. Finally Inspector Miyagawa arrived, increasing the tension; the streets of what had been a ghost town now overflowed with uniformed police officers. Takako felt ashamed to be among them in her mud-spattered leather suit. With no other choice, she started to limp off out of the way, dragging one leg. The wind was strong. Clouds blew in from the sea, one after another.
"If you want to, go rest in the car."
She heard the captain's voice behind her and, turning slowly, motioned, no thanks. He nodded and turned quickly away. She felt a peculiar alienation. It was she who had led everyone else here. Were they showing such consideration for her because she was a woman? Was it perverse of her to think so?
I loved every minute of it.
Gale's figure was burned into her consciousness. She would never forget his face as he stood in the park emitting white clouds of breath, staring at her. If only she could look into his eyes forever. Not as his pursuer, but face to face, one on one. She climbed the stairs to the pedestrian overpass that hung over the broad T-shaped intersection. When she got to the top, she looked down in surprise.
What a peculiar sight met her eyes. Beyond the woods where Gale had taken refuge was a string of lights from the industrial district surrounding Tokyo Bay. Boso on the left and Keihin on the right, and lights of factories that never ceased operating, day or night. Turning around the other way, lining the wide avenues that symbolized this artificial landscape she could see a completely inorganic collection of tall hotels and skyscrapers, rising up to the amazingly wide sky. Nowhere a breath of nature. A world where everything was immaculate and supervised.
He would never come here by choice. Who would?
Leaning against the round railing of the overpass, Takako watched the figures beneath her rush busily to and fro. She yearned for a cup of hot coffee. She wanted to warm her frozen body. Yet she couldn't budge. Hunters with their hunting dogs were on the move. All around were the red lights of patrol cars.
"Hey, go rest in the car already." It was Takizawa, rushing up the overpass stairs. His scant hair, blown about in the strong wind, looked dreadful. She stood idly, letting the wind blow against her. "You've got to ride that motorcycle back, too, you know," he said.
"I want to watch," said Takako.
Takizawa moved his mouth slightly as if he wanted to say something, but chose not to. Then he stood beside Takako and looked around.
"Almost morning."
"Yes."
"They found Ogawa's car."
Takako quickly looked up.
Takizawa nodded slowly, adding, "Just a bit ago."
Until then Takako had been chilled to the core, but now something hot stirred within her.
"That's some dog," Takizawa said. "He knew where Ogawa was the whole time."
She was silent.
"They're going over this place with a fine-tooth comb. To keep Gale from killing again."
"What can I do?"
"The captain said rest, so go on and take a load off. Take a look—there's plenty of manpower."
Even her sigh was swept away with the cold sea breeze.
Takizawa was shaking a cigarette out of a pack. "I have to say . . . ," he started to speak, turning his back to the wind and managing somehow to light his cigarette, "you looked like you were having a ball." He squinted his eyes and blew out a mouthful of smoke.
Takako nodded but didn't say anything.
"Watching you . . . ," Takizawa paused, taking another drag on his cigarette, "I could tell."
She tried to explain. "Funny to say, but I felt as if Gale ... appreciated me."
"Too bad you didn't meet under different circumstances," said Takizawa, and then left. Same old emperor penguin, striding away. Feeling a sudden choking sensation, Takako followed his retreating figure with her eyes. Her shoulder and
lower back hurt like hell. It was cold enough to need to stamp the ground to stay warm, and yet she did not move.
If only... under different circumstances.
The sky was growing light. While she was riding, the sky had been clear, but now thick clouds hung low overhead. She turned around and saw a drifting cloud beginning to be reflected on the mirror-like facade of an all-glass high-rise hotel. The hotel gave off a dull light as it rose up, piercing the gray sky. Gradually the cityscape began to emerge in outline, spacious and irritatingly vapid. An eerie oppressiveness in a thoroughly calculated, thoroughly supervised environment. In this place less suited to Gale than anyone she could imagine, dawn came.