by Tristan Vick
Having said her piece, Mia turned and left the way she had come, securing the door behind her.
After the last latch had caught, Alyssa returned to the bed, sat down on the end of it, and placed Frank up next to her. Frank curled up on the bed and promptly began biting at a pesky itch which bothered her hind leg.
Turning back toward Kevin, Alyssa’s voice became solemn. She informed him, “It’s not a banquet you’re being taken to. It’s a crazed woman’s mad tea party. It’s a masquerade straight out of hell.”
“Sounds cheery,” Kevin said sarcastically, his head bobbing back and forth on his shoulders as he struggled to keep eye contact.
Alyssa reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. When his eyes locked onto hers, she said, “Trust no one.”
“No one at all?” Kevin asked in a dreary voice.
“There is one,” Alyssa added. “The Cowboy. Find him. Reach out to him, and he will help you.”
“The Cowboy,” Kevin repeated drearily.
“The Cowboy,” Alyssa echoed, making sure it stuck inside that doped up brain of his.
Without warning, the door flew open again and Mia marched in, picked Kevin up by his arm, and said, “It’s time.” Her voice quivered a bit, betraying her poorly masked feelings for him.
It wasn’t Mia’s intention, but after a week of being in close quarters with Kevin, she couldn’t help but wish for things to remain as they were...floating on the sea, having sex whenever she pleased...forever.
Every night she lay in his arms and told him all her terrible secrets, and he just listened. He listened and then hugged her tight afterwards and kissed the top of her head. She’d never met anyone with such compassion, with such kindness. His was a pure heart, and it killed her inside that she had to let him go and forsake the one thing that had ever brought her real contentment.
It was no secret, she felt herself falling for him and falling hard. All she wanted to do was run away with Kevin, to be free to lose themselves to the world. But she knew that if she betrayed Ijin Gen, if she went back on the deal he’d made with the Blood Queen, he’d hunt her down to the ends of the Earth and back. And it would only be a matter of time before he’d find her and kill her, and Kevin, in the worst possible way. Whatever it was that she had with this young man, she knew that it simply wasn’t meant to be—and that tore her up inside.
67
Blood, Guts, and Steel
Tokyo Skytree, Main Observation Deck, Japan
The silver Skytree rose high into the evening sky, like the world’s largest needle. It pierced the heavyset rain clouds that drifted ominously above Rachael and Saeko, who paused to catch their breath. They looked up toward the top of the tower and at the dark speck of a figure that gazed down on them with a wide, crocodile-like grin which—although they could not see it—was welcoming them into his parlor, like a spider to a fly.
Littered all about the two women were the dead bodies of dozens of Yakuza, most of them horribly dismembered, a few completely decapitated. The fight to get to the main entrance was barely a fight at all.
“More will be arriving any minute,” Rachael said.
“I’m counting on it,” Saeko answered with a devious smile.
Rachael continued to stare up at the tower.
“Is something the matter?” Saeko asked. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“They are probably digging in and barricading the doors as we speak. A head-on assault might not be the best idea. Let’s split up and…”
The blare of an alarm interrupted Rachael—suddenly the shipping containers lining the entire street began to shift. They were set upon some kind of pulley system, and were rigged to turn inward at a forty-five degree angle. Once the containers were in position, a light attached to each one changed from red to yellow and the doors on a dozen containers unlatched.
“Not this again,” Saeko grumbled, gripping her sword tight and widening her stance.
Rachael blew her bangs out of her eyes and slowly raised her heavy broadsword.
That’s when one of Gen’s men launched a canister into the center of the battlefield. It hissed and fizzed, spewing out a fog of greasy, yellow smoke.
“Here they come!” Rachael said.
Through the yellow haze, Saeko could make out the famished moans of the undead. Without warning, the snapping jaws of a hungry Biter flew out of the wall of smoke and almost landed on top of Saeko. She thrust her shoulder into the creature, launching the female zombie out of her way as she ran up to another figure that staggered about aimlessly in the fog. She quickly dispatched it by slicing its head off with one fell swipe of her blade. Spinning back around, she roundhoused the female zombie straight in its snarling face. She positioned her blade and ran the thing through, then watched as the creature tottered and crashed to the ground.
“I’ve had about enough of this bullshit,” Rachael announced from somewhere in the smokescreen. With a vicious grunt, Rachael grabbed ahold of the corner of one of the shipping containers and lobbed it into the air. It crashed to the pavement, spitting up a flurry of sparks as it scraped along the ground. As it slid, the edge caught on a break in the pavement and sent the container into a tumbling spin. With fierce momentum, it parted the smoke, leaving a wide clearing in its wake. It crashed straight into the main gate and tore open the last layer of protective fencing.
Just as Rachael was about to press onward, a zombie materialized from the smoke directly behind her. Before she was even aware of its presence it leaned forward and bit down into the back of her shoulder. Rachael screamed in agony, as she twisted and tore herself free of the creature’s biting jaws. Although she was immune to the virus, the bite still hurt like a motherfucker. Breaking away, she turned to find that the monster had taken a rather sizable chunk of her flesh from her shoulder. Rachael grunted and kicked the monster in the gut, sending it staggering back. It ignored her as it seemed to be too preoccupied with feasting on her shoulder meat to care about anything else at the moment.
Gripping her shoulder with her good hand, Rachael looked down and took a peak at the shredded flesh. It looked like raw beef that had been run through a meat grinder dangling from where her shoulder would have typically been. Not a pretty sight, to say the least.
Suddenly, a pair of zombies lunged out from the smoke, but instantly fell to the ground, already dead. As soon as they hit the asphalt, Saeko appeared beside her and asked, “Are you alright?”
“I’ll heal,” Rachael said. With that, she took her Claymore in her good hand, tossed it into the air, and let it spin twice before catching it again. She swung it side to side, spun around, and brought the blade down onto the feasting zombie’s skull. The steel edge sliced from the top of the creature’s cranium down to its sternum, where it caught on the breast plate. Rachael raised her foot, and with her long, sexy leg on display, she slowly placed her boot heel on the zombie’s torso and wrenched her sword back out.
The creature toppled to the ground, crashing face first into the concrete, unable to finish its meal.
Rachael pointed toward the entrance of the tower, which appeared in the clearing. “You take the elevator shaft up to the top and gut them from the inside out. I’ll come down through the roof and we’ll meet in the middle.”
Rachael bent down, squatting as if she was going to leap straight up and scale the intricate network of support beams. Suddenly she launched off the ground like a rocket, sending swirls of smoke rolling in every direction. She flew up at least fifty feet before latching onto the side of one of the support beams.
“Holy shit,” Saeko muttered, hardly able to believe that anyone could make such a jump. As she watched Rachael scale the side of the tower with the finesse of a spider monkey, Saeko quickly sprang into action herself. Rushing toward the door, she took out three more zombies, as if it were mere child’s play.
Arriving at the entrance, Saeko pried open the elevator doors and poked her head into the dark shaft. It was unguarded. Proceeding with
caution, she climbed into the hollow well of the shaft and began scaling the maintenance ladder which ran the entire length along the inner wall. But before she could take more than a few steps up the rungs of the ladder, a pallid hand reached through the open door and clasped onto her right ankle. She felt a searing pain as the zombie bit into her thigh, sinking its teeth in like one would bite into a nice roasted chicken leg. Saeko screamed out at the pain and the unexpectedness of the sudden attack. The monster had caught her off-guard. Gathering her nerves back up, she kicked the zombie off and continued climbing as if it were no big deal. Heeding Rachael’s advice, she powered through the pain, not letting it deter her from the task at hand.
At least the slow, dumb ones couldn’t climb ladders, she told herself. The bottom of the shaft had been steadily filling up with trapped undead; all their grasping arms and hands reaching up for her was disconcerting, but she ignored their hungry moans, pushed the pain in her leg out of her mind, and continued up the shaft.
After climbing for what seemed like forever, Saeko finally reached the first observation deck. Putting her ear to the doors, she could hear the sound of tables being tipped over and furniture being rearranged into makeshift barricades. This racket was quickly followed by the sound of several dozen fully automatic weapons all cocking at the same time. They were already ready for her, so she had to improvise.
Saeko strained her ears, and then she heard it. The faint beeping sound of what was probably a bomb fixed to go off the moment she pried the doors open.
A booby trap.
From inside the main observation lounge, Maya pointed at the bomb taped to the elevator doors; there was a wire trigger set to go the moment the doors pulled apart.
“Everyone, stay alert,” she growled. “These women aren’t to be trifled with. Do not try to take them on single handedly. They are Supers. If you engage them in hand-to-hand combat, they will tear you apart limb by limb. So aim for the head and put these cunts down as fast as humanly possible. Kill shots only. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am!” the men all shouted out in unison. But the overcompensation of false bravado gave away the fact that they were secretly trembling inside their boots.
Just then, a katana pierced the elevator doors and slowly cut out a circle around the ticking bomb. The men all watched anxiously as the disc cutout was pulled into the shaft. The bomb disappeared into the blackness of a gaping hole without detonating.
Looking around at each other apprehensively from behind toppled tables, sofas, book cabinets, and the cover of support pillars, the Yakuza trained their guns on the hole and waited for something to happen...anything.
Shaking with a deep rumble, the bomb suddenly detonated several hundred feet below, decimating the entrance at the bottom of the elevator shaft, and making charcoal out of the gathering of undead that had accumulated there.
Jarred by the aftershocks of the blast, which rattled the entire Skytree, Gen’s men braced themselves just in case the whole thing came toppling down. Without warning, one of the gangsters in the middle of the group collapsed to the ground as Saeko crashed down onto him from the ceiling, landing right smack dab in the middle of the lion’s den. As the dust and debris of sheetrock, insulation, and aluminum ventilation ducts crumbled down all around them, Saeko landed on her feet, both hands gripping tight to her sword, which pierced the Yakuza lying between her legs. Tearing her sword back out of her victim's chest, she crouched down like a panther ready to pounce, and with narrowed eyes which glistened like obsidian glass, she scanned the shocked faces of the two dozen soldiers surrounding her.
“What are you waiting for?!” Maya screamed. “Kill the little wench!”
Gun fire erupted and a flurry of bullets chewed up the walls, shattered glass, and clanged off steel as the unruly assault began. Saeko moved as stealthy and quietly as a cat, making sure to use their panic to her advantage. Darting one way then the next, Saeko cut a crescent moon shape in the middle of the floor, which caused several of the Yakuza to go down, having been caught in their own crossfire.
With no time to loose, Saeko did a back handspring, launching herself over a spray of automatic gunfire. On landing, she crouched, cocked, and roundhouse kicked the nearest guard. As another one ran up from behind her, she spun and sliced his chest open. As he tottered, without hesitating she stabbed the man she’d knocked down, piercing him through his back as he was reaching for his gun, which lay no more than a couple feet from where he’d fallen. Finally, the man standing in front of her crashed to the ground, dead before he hit the floor.
Just as more gun fire rained down on her, Saeko leapt up with lightning speed and, using the support pillar as a springboard, she leapt clear across the room in a single bound. As she hit the floor, she tucked and rolled, evading another spray of bullets in the process. Jumping up, with a fearsome momentum still pressing her forward, she slammed into the guard on the other side of the room like a freight train and stabbed him through his chest. She hit him with such a force that he lifted off the ground as though he were a mere rag doll, and slammed into the wall. Although, instead of sliding back down to the ground, Saeko’s sword pierced his torso in the blink of an eye, pinning him to the wall.
Behind her, two more Yakuza collapsed to the ground, having been completely decapitated in her spiraling assault as she flew across the room like a razor-winged bat tearing out of hell.
Saeko ripped her sword out from the wall, allowing the man pinned against it to crash hard to the ground with a resounding thud. Slowly, she turned around and scowled menacingly at the remaining soldiers, who were gathering in a tight circle to make one final stand.
Saeko grinned. “Well, what are you all waiting for? You have your orders. Take me down.” After a brief pause, she added with a smirk, “If you can.”
Slinking into the shadows, Maya used the distraction and the violent chaos as an opportunity to sneak out of the deathtrap and escape the ensuing bloodbath.
68
Nudaque Veritas
Alcatraz Island, San Francisco Bay, U.S.A.
Lounging in her throne chair like a cat, Jennifer Hurley looked out across the large banquet hall from behind kohl-darkened eyes. The black lining added emphasis to the intensity in which her blue eyes sparkled, making it hard for anyone not to feel hypnotized by her whenever she looked upon them.
The banquet table was filled with silver platters brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables, a rare commodity these days. Hurley threw her leg over the arm of the chair as she gazed around the room, scanning the faces of her dinner guests and making a mental note of whose faces were struck with unabated fear and those who weren’t. She had devised numerous ways to terrorize them, but before she could settle on any single, darkly twisted method of torturing her poor guests, the large doors to the dining hall creaked open.
Jen kicked her legs out and then leaned forward and re-crossed them. She smiled when her much anticipated guest from Japan, Mia Nishimori, entered the banquet hall with a troupe of well-armed soldiers falling in behind her. Addressing her dinner guests, including Captain William Young and Gordon Longstaff, she chirped happily, “Our esteemed guests have arrived!”
Mia’s entourage consisted of six heavily armed guards, her own personal guard, and a handsome young man, whom she dragged along behind her on a chained leash attached to a slave collar.
Kevin stumbled as Nishimori jerked on his leash in a show of dominance. If being paraded about like some animal wasn’t humiliating enough, Kevin’s hands were bound and his leather collar had a padlock on it. Although, as degrading as it was to be made her personal pet, he was just glad to be back stateside. In all truth, he hadn’t expected to ever see America or his home again. But here he was, back in San Francisco.
“Do you have what we discussed?” Mia asked, her eyes fixed firmly on her auspicious hostess.
Jennifer Hurley stood up and walked across the room to them. She circled around Kevin like a jackal circling its prey, in
specting him as though he were goods to be purchased. She licked her lips, then, without taking her eyes off of him, replied to Mia. “Straight to business, I see.”
“I’m afraid my employer is an impatient man, your Highness,” Mia said, taking a deeply reverent bow.
Jen took Kevin by his chin and raised his eyes to hers. “Yes. Well, it seems to be a vice all men share. Little do they realize their impatience is a sign of weakness. It makes them unthinking and prone to foolishness.”
Jen raised her hand and snapped her fingers and Dr. Hemingway materialized from behind her as though out of thin air bringing with her Alyssa’s silver metal briefcase. She placed it at the end of the table and laid it before them for all to see.
“What’s in the briefcase?” Captain Young inquired.
“All in good time, captain, my captain,” Jen answered.
Like a child opening presents on Christmas day, Jen rubbed her hands together excitedly in anticipation of seeing what was in the case. Dr. Hemingway punched in the key-code; the latches automatically unbolted, and she opened the metallic briefcase.
Silence fell over the room and everyone turned their heads to see what was inside; to see what had so captivated their Queen’s curiosity.
Longstaff tipped his black cowboy hat back and craned his neck. He knew it was what that he and Alyssa had searched high and low for. He knew about the three glass vials, the size of large Cuban cigars, filled with a special, green, gel-like substance. It seemed as though the vials were out of a science fiction movie. The only thing is, he didn’t know what the gel did; all he knew was that it held what was called the Omega Gene.
“As you asked for,” Jen said, picking up one of the centrifuge tubes of green liquid and handing it to Mia. “The Omega Gene in its raw form.”