"My role is to guard this gate. I won't let you through alive, nor shall I let you out alive." –Kojiro Sasaki,
Fate/Stay Night
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Chapter Six: Only War
For the record, running down stairs is a Very Bad Idea. Then again, so is getting turned into a steak house appetizer by a four hundred year old ghost. So, I mentally apologized to the safety handbook as Kenji, Isami, Oji, and I bolted down the stairs, heading for the nearest chemistry lab.
Unbeknownst to me, Shino had scrawled a charm with her blood next to the handle of the door leading to the stairwell, thereby dispelling the phantasmal lock, so that was one less obstacle, at least. We still had a lot of ground to cover, and no way of knowing whether or not our Samurai friend was in pursuit, so I didn't think we were home free just yet.
Kenji was in the lead, his hand firmly on the side rail to prevent himself from tumbling to his death if he lost track of his footing. Isami followed close behind with Oji on her heels, and I was treading a few paces back. Mentally, I realized that meant I was the most exposed to pursuit, but the adrenaline wasn't letting that lead to panic. Truthfully, I was more worried about my heart giving out than the Samurai making an appearance, but my heart’s rhythm seemed fine for the moment, fortunately.
As we descended the stairs as fast as we could without breaking our necks, Kenji gasped out, “Any idea how much time Shino can buy us?”
“No clue,” Isami panted, “Hisao, how much farther?”
“Four flights,” I replied, huffing as I caught the banister and started down another flight, “Chem lab we need’ll be the third door on the left – straight from the landing.”
“Can you handle that at this speed?” Oji asked, seeming completely un-winded by our hasty advance to the rear.
“Don’t see much choice,” I replied, “Besides, I’m goin’ downhill, so this is nothin’!”
“That’s the spirit!” Kenji barked.
We continued our mad dash down to the labs, our footsteps echoing with us as we went. On the edge of my hearing I thought I heard shouting and shrill cries, but couldn’t be sure. Isami looked increasingly grim as we descended, her gaze occasionally glancing behind her, as if she expected Shino to just appear with us partway down the steps.
There was no sign of the ghost or Shino along the way, and we managed to reach the nearest chemistry lab without incident. The metal slab of a door was locked, of course, but I had the key, of course. In true cliché horror style, I yanked out my key chain and grabbed for the right key so I could shove it in the lock then throw the door open, but I got stuck on step two.
While I was trying not to end up like a cheerleader in a bad slasher film, Kenji started rifling through his jacket pockets, hopefully to grab his flask for later, and Isami kept glancing back toward the stairwell as though she expected Shino to come bursting through the door with an angry ghost-samurai in hot pursuit.
“Hey,” Oji prompted as I finally shoved the right key into the lock, “Does anyone have some salt so we can protect ourselves while we work?”
Isami glanced at me as I managed to shove the door open and stated, “If Hisao salts the doorway it should be enough.”
“Because I have the key?” I guessed.
Isami smirked lightly and nodded, impressed.
“Alright people,” Kenji snapped, “Doors open – go, go, go!”
We all piled into the room. The chemistry lab had the standard setup of most science labs – benches with sinks and gas lines, metal cabinets filled with books, equipment, and supplies, emergency blanket, first aid kit, emergency shower, fire extinguishers, emergency eye wash, and so on. Salt is one of those basic science ingredients you use when you’re bored almost as much as it’s a needed component in experiments, so it's always around somewhere.
Nobody had left any sitting around in plain view, but we weren't in a video game so I opted for checking cabinets. Realizing we were pressed for time and I had no Earthly idea where the salt was stored, I glanced at Isami, who was by the door looking out into the hall, hoping to see Shino.
“You got any salt?” I asked.
Eyes focused on the hallway, Isami shook her head. “Shino brings that stuff.”
Kenji grinned and held out his hand, in which was a small pile of fast-food salt packets.
“Good job, man,” I said, abandoning my search and swiftly taking the packets from his hand, “You’re a hero.”
“Damn right I am, man!” Kenji declared before turning to face our stoner friend, “Oji, any idea where the stuff to make the gun is?”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Isami asked, eyes still locked onto the hallway.
“Don’t worry,” I said reassuringly, “I has high science.”
That didn’t reassure her, for some reason. Maybe she had preferred the first KOTOR.
Oji nodded and started looking around the room. While he and Kenji began searching for components, I ripped open the salt packets and made a thin line along the door’s threshold. I didn’t have any blood to add, so I placed the anti-possession charm on the line by the door. When I was done I joined Kenji and Oji in their search for supplies, while Isami kept her vigil at the doorway.
“So, how we gonna do this?” Kenji asked me.
I gave the two a quick rundown of my ingenious though boring plan, and then we went to work.
A potato gun is both simple and complicated. It’s simple because all you need is fuel, a fuel system, and a spare pipe. Whiskey from Kenji's flask, a metal funnel with a wad of cloth stuffed inside, and a length of four-centimeter PVC pipe would stand in for the parts in question. And the salt, of course. All we had to do was load the pipe with salt, soak the cloth in alcohol, shove it in the funnel, light it, and get clear.
The expanding gasses from the alcohol lighting wouldn’t give us a lot of range or be safe to stand behind, but we didn’t have time to get fancy, and the less stuff I trashed making the gun in the first place, the better. Taping another pipe onto the barrel would give the firer a handle so they wouldn’t get hit by the back-blast or have to hold onto the barrel itself.
Once we had all the parts gathered on a bench, along with some duct tape to put it together, I went to work. While I assembled the impromptu weapon, I found myself humming
Through the Fire and Flames by Dragonforce. Unfortunately, I had neglected a couple of serious design flaws in my weapon, but Oji was on hand to point them out.
“Hey,” Oji said when I was almost done cobbling the gun together, “Not to disparage your inner ork mekaniak, but if you don’t close off the funnel, we don’t get a boom.”
“Not to add to the pessimism,” Kenji interjected, “but alcohol doesn’t boom, it burns.”
“Shit, you’re both right,” I grumbled, then set the contraption down so I could think. After a few moments, I shrugged and turned to Oji. “Hmm… Grab a metal bowl,” I said, then picked up the incomplete gun, “I’ll cover the end of the funnel after we load it and leave a slot for the cloth fuse...”
Oji nodded and went looking for a bowl amongst the cabinets and drawers of supplies.
“Kenji,” I continued, “go to the second drawer on the right of the professor’s desk, there should be some firecrackers there we can use.”
“Isn’t having firecrackers in a chem lab incredibly unsafe?” Isami asked.
“The professors like to use them for safety demonstrations,” I explained.
“You sure you wanna use those?” Oji asked, grinning as he continued, “we might bust the parts, and this stuff has a substantial dollar value attached.”
“They can bill me,” I quipped.
Oji found a bowl easy enough, so I taped it partway to the funnel, leaving it open so I could load it while marking a spot for the fuse. Once he had managed to find them, Kenji tossed me the firecrackers. Hoping that I wasn't building a pipe bomb accidentally, I clipped their fuses to finger-blowing-off shortness, shoved some of them into the barrel, and held onto the rest to wrap with the cloth.
“Okay,” I said, and turned to Kenji, “Grab another bowl and dump your flask so I can soak the cloth. Then I’ll wrap the firecrackers and load ‘em up, tape it up, and we’ll have ourselves a spud gun.”
“Or a pipe bomb,” Oji stated, “We won’t know for sure until we fire it.”
“Fair point,” I conceded, then started shoving salt into the pipe.
High science, indeed.
While I loaded the barrel, Kenji grabbed a bowl from a drawer I had unlocked and pulled out his flask. After taking a swig he dumped it into the bowl.
“Where the hell is Shino?” he grumbled.
““On the way!” Isami barked, “So hurry it up, because that damn ghost is right behind her!”
“Working on it,” I said, “Never rush a mad scientist when he’s on the clock!”
“Mutou would be proud, man,” Kenji remarked.
“Hurry!” Isami barked.
The sounds of footsteps echoed in the hallway, as did the ghost’s angry yelling as I quickly soaked the cloth in the booze and wrapped the firecrackers.
“Alright folks,” I barked, “time to kick ass and chew bubblegum.”
“But I’m all outta gum,” Oji said, “Isami, do you have any gum?”
“Isami, get away from the door!” I called as I loaded the firecracker wrapped fuse and taped up the back of the gun, “Oji, focus! Get over here so you can light me when the ghost comes through.”
Oji nodded and followed me as I sidled up to the wall by the door, out of sight until it would be too late. Kenji whirled in place for a moment before heading over to Isami, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her away from the door.
“Let go of me!” she snapped.
“You ain’t gonna be any help there!” Kenji snapped back, “Shino’s the expert and Hisao’s about to blast the spot your standing in with flaming salt, so get clear if you don’t wanna end up as the understudy for his fiancé!”
“Hey!” I barked, “Low blow, man!”
“Not cool, man,” Oji added.
Word choice aside, it seemed to snap Isami out of her funk, as she let Kenji haul her behind the nearest bench so they’d be out of the line of fire.
A few moments later, Shino burst through the doorway, her feet avoiding the salt line as she dashed into the room. Her clothes were singed and she had light cuts on both arms. Her hands looked burned, and the charms she had wrapped around her fingers were gone. Nearly a quiver’s worth of spectral arrows were imbedded in her backpack, though they fortunately hadn’t gone deep enough to hit her.
Once Shino was inside, she leaned on the nearest bench and tried to catch her breath. “He’s… right… behind me!” she wheezed, “Please… tell me… you have… a plan.”
“As much as we ever do,” I replied, “You got any charms left?”
Before she could answer, the ghost appeared, his katana swinging down toward Shino even though she was out of range. The sword bounced off the threshold, and the samurai ghost, his armor dented and wispy, howled in rage.
Shino nodded, plodded over to us, and mumbled, “Warding charm. Last one.”
“Shove it in the barrel and break the line of salt,” I muttered, “Make it look like an accident.”
Shino nodded and pulled out a tiny rolled up sheet of paper from her sleeve, shoved it down the pipe while shielding her actions from view of the ghost with her body, then groaned and fell to the floor in a ball. On the way her foot kicked at the salt line, just barely breaking it. The ghost roared and took a single, tentative step into the room. Then he took another step and raised his sword to stab down at the shrine maiden.
“Hey!” I snapped at the ghost to get his attention, “Smile, you spectral son-of-a-bitch!”
Taking that as his cue, Oji lit me without being told.
The alcohol-soaked cloth burned quickly, and after a brief, muffled sizzling of fuses, the firecrackers went off, their explosion making my ears ring and my heart thump uncomfortably as the spud gun fired. Seconds later, the barrel hummed and a burst of fiery salt and cloth shrapnel exploded out at the samurai, hitting him in the stomach with a blast about the size of an open fist. Howling in pain, the samurai staggered back a few steps.
“Like I said,” Shino groaned from the floor, “May you find peace across the river, because you’ll find none here.”
The samurai bounced against the wall somehow, dropped his sword – which promptly vanished – and tried to clutch at his stomach wound. As he did the area surrounding the wound started to fizzle and turn into puffs of silvery mist. Giving a feeble, defiant snarl, the samurai took a step forward. With one hand he tried to draw his other sword, but it was gone, as was most of his torso.
Slowly, as his entire body dissolved into silvery mist and vanished into the air, he seemed to give into the inevitable. With the last of his strength, he snapped to attention with the remains of his body and bowed to me. Still feeling a bit numb from the explosion, I returned the bow. Then he promptly vanished, leaving only a last whispering declaration echoing off the walls of the chemistry lab.
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Next Chapter
A wise man once said there are few problems that can’t be solved with proper application of explosives.
Or maybe that was my gunslinger in a Pathfinder game after too many beers. In any case, we have one more chapter, which should be up later -Ilya, why did you alert the witch NOW?
