by Tristan Vick
Reg turned and smiled at them. “You can’t be too careful, you know.”
Escorting them to the top, he motioned toward the main prison building. Reg turned to them and pointed at the doors. “Just head inside and there will be someone to check you in. I need to go to the warden’s house to debrief the boss, and then I’ll catch back up with you all in the dining hall. Tonight we’re having scalloped potatoes and ham casserole. The cook bakes the cheese crust to perfection.” Reg smacked his fingers with a mouthwatering kiss and then added, “Personally, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Sounds good,” Alyssa said, her stomach grumbling at the mere thought of a home cooked meal.
Reg shot them both a cordial smile. “Well, work calls,” he informed them and then waved goodbye.
They watched as he made his way toward the warden’s house, then Gordon turned to Alyssa and gave her that look she’d seen a thousand times before.
“What is it?”
“I just have a bad feeling about this place.”
“It’s Alcatraz!” Alyssa laughed, brushing away his worries. “Besides, we’ve come this far.”
“Right,” Longstaff said. He turned in time to see Reg enter the other building several yards off and frowned.
Alyssa hit Gordon in the arm to nudge him along. “Come on, you big ole worry wart,” she said with a laugh. “They had their man greet us as promised. The boat, the meet up; so far everything has gone to exactly to plan.” Alyssa tapped on the briefcase and added, “Now let’s get this briefcase and its contents to its rightful owner.”
With that said, she entered the prison through the main doors. Frank cheerfully followed after her and then Gordon shrugged and went inside too.
Once through the doors, they passed along the main corridor until they came out into the middle of the main cell block, but nobody was there waiting for them as Reg had promised.
“Hello?” Alyssa called out. Her voice echoed off the concrete walls and cement floor.
“I don’t like this,” Gordon said, reaching for his Colt .45 revolver.
Suddenly there was a loud buzz and a series of yellow lights above the cell doors started flashing.
Frank barked nervously.
Alyssa ran back to the entrance and tried the doors. “Dammit, it’s locked.”
That’s when they heard the moans.
Alyssa turned around and looked at the cells. The gates on both the ground level and upper level of the prison automatically slid open and hordes of undead streamed out.
“It’s a goddamn trap,” Gordon Longstaff growled, pulling out a second Colt .45 from the back of his belt. Double barreling it, he backed up toward where Alyssa was. “Stay behind me,” he said as the undead flooded into the main cell block.
Frank stood by her master’s side and growled at the monsters as menacingly as a small corgi could growl.
Longstaff knew from the moment they’d met Reggie Takamura that something was off about that fella. He smiled way too much, to the point that it forced you to question his sincerity. It was as if he was trying to convince everyone that he really was a nice guy. And Longstaff knew that the only kind of person who’d need to work so hard to convince others he was a nice guy was, well, a not so nice guy. “One last meal my ass,” Longstaff grumbled as he raised both pistols.
PART 4
KINGDOM OF
THE LIVING DEAD
THE FOREST OF WHISPERS, JAPAN
WHEN EAST MEETS WEST
49
Return to the Forest of Whispers
Ario Hashimoto Station, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan
Commander Daiichi Endo raised his hand and motioned for Saeko and Rachael to hold up. Then, peaking his head up from the subway exit, he did a quick pan and scan and then just as quickly sank back down out of sight.
“How many did you see?” whispered Saeko. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword, ready for action.
“Four loiterers. Probably more behind the pillars and in the blind spots.”
“That’s not so bad,” Saeko said. “Between the three of us—”
“No,” Endo, interrupted. “We have no reason to waste our energy fighting. Just wait here until I get back.” With that, Endo darted stealthily up the stairs and out of sight.
Saeko looked back at Rachael who just shrugged. “Don’t look at me, kid. I’m just here for the entertainment.”
Saeko did a double take, as she wasn’t expecting a joke from the poker-faced woman, then they both heard the sound of a radio blaring the theme song to the famous children’s animation Anpanman, about a superhero made of bread.
“Anpanman?” Saeko said in surprise.
“What’s that?” Rachael enquired.
“It’s a…” Saeko didn’t know how to explain such a unique cultural icon to the American woman. Basically, Anpanman was as recognizable as America’s own Mickey Mouse, minus his own theme park. But before she could spit out the details, Endo reappeared in the mouth of the subway exit and said, “Follow me.”
They left the subway and came out onto street level where they followed Endo to a nearby bus terminal at the other end of the train station. Rachael looked back toward where the music was coming from. It was a small boom box sitting in a bookshop. It was already attracting quite a small gathering of zombies curious as to what this Anpanman business was all about.
“This is Ario Hashimoto station,” Saeko said, recognizing the place.
Endo found a bus, pushed open the door and climbed aboard. Doing a quick check from front to back of the aisle of the bus, he turned and called out, “It’s clear.”
“Is it famous?” Rachael asked looking around the area.
“Not really. It’s…” Saeko trailed off when she realized where Endo was taking them.
“What is it?”
“It is close to the Chuo express way…Japan’s main national highway. It will take us right to Mt. Fuji; isn’t that right, Endo-san?”
Daiichi Endo was already bent under the dashboard of the front of the bus attempting to hot-wire it. Using his tactical knife to strip a couple of wires, he rubbed them together and they sparked. By the third time he brushed the wires together the diesel engine rumbled to life.
Hopping into the driver’s seat, Endo shifted the bus into drive, and smiled back at them. “I hear Mt. Fuji is beautiful this time of year.”
Annoyed by the fact that he wasn’t forthright with her, Saeko folded her arms and huffed, exaggerating her annoyance with him so he’d be sure to notice. Taking a seat, she stared out the window and moped as Endo pulled the bus out of the parking area and onto the main road.
Suddenly a zombie stepped into their path; Endo ran it over without a second thought. As it tumbled under the bus, Rachael looked back to see two dozen others had spotted them and were lurching after the bus. Fortunately, their slow, clumsy steps weren’t enough to catch up to their swiftly fleeing prey. With disgruntled moans the pack of zombies reached out with their blood encrusted fingernails and moaned over the loss of a perfectly good meal.
“Hang on!” Endo shouted. Suddenly the bus bounced and jerked as it impacted more bodies. Blood splashed across the windshield and side windows, blanketing everything in a uniform spackle. Unable to see well, Endo flicked on the wipers and floored the gas. “It’s gonna get a little bit bumpy,” he called back to Saeko. She bounced around in her seat until they had cleared the mass of zombies and then settled back down. Endo shifted gears and got the bus up to speed as he pulled out onto the bypass, leaving the throng in their dust.
Leaning over the driver’s seat, Rachael thumbed over her should and asked Endo, “Will she be alright?”
“Don’t worry,” Endo replied. “She’ll be fine. Let’s just say she still has some personal demons to face.”
Rachael nodded then stood up and watched out the window at the scenery. It was already midday as they zoomed past abandoned cars and unrestricted road. White-eyed Biters turned to see what the ruckus wa
s but were too slow to react as the bus rumbled by them.
“Once we get onto the highway, it will be smooth sailing all the way to Aokigahara.”
Saeko let out a heavy sigh and crossed her legs to look extra annoyed. Ignoring her silent but not so silent protest, Endo cranked the wheel to get around one final bend and then straightened things out again. Suddenly the onramp to the highway came into view and he smiled. “Ms. Ramirez, feel free to get some shut eye. It will be a few hours until we reach our destination.”
Rachael placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Thanks.”
“Thanks for nothing,” Saeko mumbled under her breath, but neither Endo-san nor Rachael paid her any attention.
Rachael found herself a seat, slid off her longsword, placed it next to herself, and got comfortable. She stared out the window, gazing at the lush green rice fields and beautiful Japanese landscape as they sped by. Seeing the misty blue-green mountains looming in the distance calmed her. She watched them until her eyelids grew heavy and, finally, she dozed off.
50
Necromancer
Alcatraz Island, San Francisco Bay, U.S.A.
Unleashing a hailstorm of bullets, Gordon Longstaff fired off his twin Colt .45 revolvers. After he had spent all twelve rounds of ammunition, he looked over at Alyssa and yelled, “Grab Frank and get into the cell. I’ll hold them off until I can’t anymore.”
“No,” Alyssa said firmly. “We’ll just get stuck in there until we both starve to death.” Reaching behind her back, she drew out her own firearm. It was a black Python 357 Magnum with a nicely stenciled wooden hand grip.
Emptying out his spent shells from the cylinder, Longstaff raised an eyebrow and asked, “When did you get that piece?”
“Vegas,” Alyssa said. “Found a nice pawn shop, and took what pleased me.”
“Surprised there were any guns left,” he said.
“It had a trigger guard on it; I reckon nobody took it because they likely couldn’t pick the lock. But I used that little trick you taught me.” Kissing the barrel for good luck, she smiled and added, “Now, I have this little beaut’.”
Longstaff smiled and slipped six fresh bullets into both guns then raised his dual revolvers and took his rightful position alongside Alyssa, who was already taking aim and sizing up her first kill of the day.
Down the corridor of the prison, a host of snarling zombies shambled toward them. Their gray, rotting skin looked worse for wear. Many of the monsters had boils and blisters that oozed a creamy white puss that smelled dreadful. Alyssa started to cough and gag at the repugnant stench, and quickly covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve.
“Just like old times,” Longstaff said.
“Like old times,” Alyssa confirmed.
Before either of them could fire off a single round, however, a woman’s voice rang out. “Stop!”
Suddenly all the zombies stopped dead in their tracks.
“Wait…what…” Alyssa couldn’t finish her sentence because she couldn’t believe her eyes. The undead had responded to the voice of a living person, as if they were well-trained show dogs.
Suddenly a door at the back end of the cellblock creaked open and the dark form of a woman entered. Alyssa and Longstaff squinted to see if they could make out the woman’s face, but the prison shadows blotted it out, obscuring all but the outline of the person approaching them. As she made her way toward the pair, her high heels clacked on the cold cement floor with a metrical click-clack, click-clack that echoed throughout the prison cellblock.
“Stand down,” the woman ordered.
To Alyssa’s surprise, all the zombies stepped to the side and made room for their mysterious master. “Who are you?” Alyssa called out.
The woman swaggered toward them, her hips swiveling seductively like those of a supermodel on the catwalk. Each monster she approached not only stepped aside but also bowed its head reverently, as if they were her subjects and she their Queen.
“You can put your guns away,” the woman said. “It’s perfectly safe to do so. My darlings won’t bite. Not unless I tell them to.”
As she drew closer to them, Alyssa had the strangest feeling she’d seen this person before. There was something about the way she moved…her walk was seductive, yet confident. It was the sound of her voice; it was the long locks of blond hair that caught the shafts of light coming in through the high, slender windows and shimmered like gold. It was...no way, Alyssa told herself. It couldn’t be.
Emerging from the shadows, the woman stepped into the light, revealing her fierce, sparkling blue eyes and full red lips. Lips that were turned up into the form of a genuine smile.
Frank barked, as if uncertain about the woman.
Alyssa lowered her gun and gasped, “Impossible.”
51
Battle at Aokigahara
The Forest of Whispers, Near Mt. Fuji, Japan
The old monk of the Buddhist temple in Aokigahara village, Mr. Tamagawa, knelt submissively on the ground. The muzzle of the gun was pressed hard to his forehead.
“I told you, I don’t know where Admiral Sakaguchi is. I swear it.”
Standing behind Gen was a small army of his most loyal gangsters, including the demented Maya Nishimori. On the opposite side was gathered half of the village, who all watched in nervous anticipation for what would happen next.
“Somehow,” Ijin Gen said, “I don’t believe you. The two women he rescued were from here. This is where my men traced him back to. If he’s anywhere, he’s here. So I’ll ask you one last time. Where is the admiral?”
Old Tamagawa looked up defiantly at the burnt face of Ijin Gen which was wrapped up in blood-stained gauze. He looked out through slits in the greasy fabric; around his eyes and mouth was a thin line of blood that seemed to highlight the severity of his disfiguration. Over his wrap, Gen wore his trademark all white suit, which Tamagawa felt was a little tacky all things considered; it made him look the spitting image of a comic book villain.
Maya Nishimori sauntered up to his side and whispered something in his ear. Whatever she said prompted him to look down at Tamagawa with wide eyes that flared with fiery rage. Without warning, Gen backhanded the old man across his jaw. The pain not only stung Tamagawa, but Gen as well, who brought his bandaged hand to his chest and rubbed it.
Leaning down to the old man, Gen snarled, “I thought you said you didn’t know the whereabouts of the admiral?”
“I don’t,” insisted Tamagawa.
“Then how do you explain this?!” Gen shouted, pointing over at two of his men who dragged Naoko and Chiemi out into the open clearing before them and then forced them down onto their knees.
Ashamed, Mr. Tamagawa bowed his head for having been caught in the lie and refused to say another word on the matter to this monster.
“Aren’t these the two women he helped escape?”
Mr. Tamagawa looked up and stared straight into Gen’s cruel eyes. “Don’t you mean, the two women whom you abducted and threatened to rape and kill?”
Amused, Gen smiled back at the old man with his wicked, sociopathic grin and lowered his gun. “Yes, I supposed so.” He stared at Tamagawa for a bit, then turned toward the two women, raised his hand, and said, “Kill them!”
Gen’s thugs had raised their guns and pressed the muzzles to Naoko and Chiemi’s head when suddenly Mr. Tamagawa, who couldn’t bear to lose any more of his people, called out, “Wait!”
“Oh…so you do know where the admiral is, then?”
“Yes,” Tamagawa reluctantly replied. Even though he was disgusted by Gen’s cruelty and wanted to protect the admiral, he was obligated to protect his people. He valued the two women’s lives too much to simply allow them to be butchered in front of him, like his son had been.
Ijin Gen turned to Maya and smiled then circled around back to the old man and said, “Now we’re getting somewhere!” Pointing back at his guards, Gen added at the last minute, “Kill them anyway!”
�
��Enough!” a voice boomed.
Gen looked over at the crowd of spectators, where the voice had come from. The terrified onlookers parted, allowing a single figure to emerge from their midst.
“I’m the one you want,” Admiral Kazuma Sakaguchi said as he stepped out into the clearing. “Leave these people alone.”
Raising his gun, Gen pointed it threateningly at the admiral and growled, “You’re lucky I don’t just kill everyone here right this instant and burn this village down.”
“What are you trying to prove, Gen? How much of a monster you are? Believe me, everyone already knows.”
“Ha!” Gen laughed. Pointing at his face, he said, “Thanks to you, admiral, my transformation is complete. Now the entire nation will quake with fear whenever they hear the name Ijin Gen.”
“What do you want from us?” Tamagawa interrupted.
“Have you ever seen the movie Robbin Hood, old man?” Gen asked.
“Yes,” Tamagawa answered. “I am familiar with that tale.”
“I’ve always liked that story,” Gen informed the old man. “It’s a tale about liars, crooks, and thieves. But my favorite character is the Sheriff of Nottingham. He taxes the people, as is his duty, but takes extra for himself. If the people comply, he leaves them alone. But if they refuse, well then, trouble abounds. I think I shall impose a tax on your village. If you comply, I’ll be on my merry way. If not,” Gen bent down and got right into Mr. Tamagawa’s face and said in a vicious whisper, “then there will be trouble. I promise you that.”
Just then the rumble of a diesel engine interrupted them. Everyone turned to see a pair of headlights driving up a narrow access road, heading toward them.