Re: Hisao and Akira(?!)- Terror in the Night! 10/20 Update
Posted: Sat Oct 27, 2012 9:59 am
"I survived because the fire inside burned brighter than the fire around me. I fell down into that dark chasm, but the flame burned on and on." –Joshua Graham, AKA The Burned Man
Previous Chapter
Part Five: Resolution
For almost as long as humans have walked on two legs, we have feared the wolf. There’s something about them that frightens us, seeping its way into our bones and chilling our hearts, filling us with a sense of reckless, irrational fear. Long ago humans and wolves became brothers, but, now, they are feared and hunted, sometimes to extinction. Still, we grudgingly respect our fellow predators, if for no other reason than in remembrance of what we once shared.
So you’ll forgive me if I wasn’t playing with a full deck when I stepped into that damned wheat field. The fact that I almost blew my brains out not five minutes ago ought to have been a fair indicator of my mental state. Swaying and rustling as I waded through it, the wheat itself seemed possessed of some supernatural power, but it was probably just my nerves getting to me.
Barely up to my waist, the budding tips of the golden stalks felt like thousands of eyes watching my every move. That, coupled with the thunder, flashes of lightning, the fierce, pounding rain, and the fact that I could barely see anything that wasn’t right in front of my face, made my mind go a little blank as I edged my way toward the sound of Hisao's howl.
The thought of that wolf, on all fours, dragging me down and tearing into my stomach almost made me cry, but I had a job to do, and a pseudo-brother-in-law to find. Hanako and Hisao weren't family by blood, but they might as well be, and the thought of being responsible for his death spurred me forward. If nothing else, I had to find him, dead or alive; preferably the latter. How I'd deal with the werewolf alone wasn't something I even wanted to consider, but I was really more terrified by the prospect of telling Hanako that Hisao had met with a grisly end under the razor-claws and dagger-teeth of a supernatural beast.
Glancing down at the revolver, and willing my hand to stop shaking, I tried to remember how many times I'd fired. Three times sounded right, but I wasn't sure. Turning the dagger to rest along the heel of my other hand, I unlocked the chamber on the revolver; I was right, three shots left. Staring at the cold, shining metal, I wondered for a second if I might need the last one for me, after all.
A rustling sound to my left snapped me back into focus, pushing the dark thoughts aside and bringing more terrifying ones to the forefront. Relocking the chamber and palming the dagger, I strained my eyes against the night and rain, trying to see the source of the movement. Roughly a dozen meters to my left, something was moving towards me in a narrowing circle; I was being hunted. Unsettled by the stalking chevron, I set my jaw and remembered I'm a lawyer; being hunted is something I do not like. It was time I play the predator, dammit!
Watching the parting grain, I saw it move closer to me, while still appearing to move closer to Hisao. It had to know I could see it, so I couldn't fathom what it was doing. Readying the revolver with one hand, I made sure my grip on the dagger was firm as I took a long, slow step toward the rustling.
Immediately, the rustling stopped. Like a flash of yellow-eyed lightning, the massive beast leaped from the wheat, streaking at me with its dagger-filled maw agape and its razor-like claws glinting in the rainy moonlight. This time, there was no hesitation; I aimed and fired. The revolver spat at the monster, and I ducked down just after the bullet grazed its left shoulder. Stumbling weirdly, it gave up its attack and instead dove over me, and I managed to cut a red line in its flank with the dagger as it passed.
Once it had passed by completely, I bolted upright just in time to watch it start loping through the wheat, headed toward Hisao. Its retreating chevron sped away much faster than its approach.
"Great," I lamented sardonically to myself, now it was directly between me and Hisao. Not having a choice, I started moving in the same general direction of the werewolf, tracing along the left side of its broken path.
As fight or flight finally kicked in, my body was wracked with adrenaline. Still terrified and jumping at every alien sound, I was able to push the fear back into the recesses of my mind as I waded through the wheat, but just barely. After a few tense minutes, a flash of lightning made me jump. My eyes widening with the flash, I caught sight of something looming over the wheat in the distance.
“Hisao?” I called.
When lightning flashed again, the figure was gone. Keeping my eyes on the spot intently, after a few moments, sure enough, once again the monster was prowling its way toward me through the wheat. Watching as it slowly stalked closer and closer, I didn’t think it was going to jump this time.
Just as its stalking form became visible through the wheat and rain, I heard Hisao howl again. The creature shifted slightly, following the sound, then spun back in my direction; apparently caught between deciding which of us to kill first. Settling on me after a long moment, it started dashing forward on all fours, growling maliciously.
Holding my ground as it charged, I waited as long as I could before screaming and jumping to the right. Landing and rolling onto one knee, I watched the beast stand on its hind legs barely more than an arm's length away. When it lunged down at me, I rolled again to the right, bringing up the revolver as it clawed toward my new position. Before I could fire, it wrapped the claws of its left paw around my hand, cutting off circulation and preventing me from pulling the trigger. As it tried to crush my fingers, I cried out, and my heart practically skipped a beat.
Snarling, the creature towered over me, its saliva-covered teeth bared as its tongue licked its lips. Its piercing, iridescent eyes burned through the night, bright and boring into me. Grimacing, I thrust the knife at the hand grasping my own, but the beast roared in pain as my dagger imbedded itself in its other palm as it moved to rip at my side. Shoving me away, the beast snapped with its teeth before swiping at me with its good hand; just barely missing my thigh.
Falling into a leftward roll, I shakily levelled the revolver in my pained hand as I came up, letting out a snarl of my own. The wolf lunged and tried to bite, so I pulled back and rolled to the left again as it crashed into the muddy field. Barely looking back, I stood and broke into a run, heading toward where I thought I had heard Hisao.
Feeling the pain shooting up my arm from my hand, I realized there was no way I could beat that thing with physical force. Hearing it shuffling behind me, I turned and roared, "dammit!"
Again the beast charged at me, so I dodged to the left, whipping the dagger at it in desperation. Lodging midway down its back, the silvery projectile brought a roar of pain from its frustrated throat as it turned mid run to face me. Again Hisao howled, and this time the wolf didn’t hesitate to run off after him; evidently deciding I wasn't worth the trouble.
Down to two bullets, I no longer had a dagger, and my wits were starting to fray, but Hisao was somewhere in that vast field. Of course, there was a werewolf between us, but the adrenaline being pumped through my veins by my quickened heartbeat had numbed me to the abject terror I knew I should have been feeling. Making sure my hat was on securely, which seemed silly in retrospect, I started jogging toward the noise, looking desperately for the rustling trail of the creature. Keeping myself focused on finding Hisao, because it was the only thing preventing my mind from locking in terror, I trudged onward, half blind, covered in sweat, mud, and werewolf blood.
The beast was getting slower, though, it seemed. Not quite lethargic, but its last few attacks lacked the voracity and agility of its assault on Hisao's summer home. With the blade wound to one of its paws, and gunshots through its shoulders, it probably hurt for it to run on all fours for long. Deep stab wounds in its back probably had a similar slowing effect, and the red line on its flank probably sent stinging pain every time it twisted around. Keeping those thoughts in mind, I paced along quickly, following its rather obvious trail of broken grain stalks and claw prints in the mud.
Another blast of lightning lit up a hulking figure to my right, and I knew instantly, even through the dark and the rain, it wasn't Hisao. In another flash I saw it wasn’t alone. Hisao stood at arm's length, deflecting claw strikes with his bayonet. The beast lunged constantly at his head with its vicious jaws, and repeatedly yelped as the bayonet struck against its assault.
"Hisao!" I yelled, breaking into a headlong run.
“Took you long enough!” he yelled back, pivoting away from another claw strike.
Swiping at its face as he spun, it recoiled and barked a pained protest. Seeing that moment, I leveled the revolver and fired it at the wolf’s chest. Striking somewhere in its midsection, the bullet sent the creature rocking away, roaring painfully. Raking its claws at Hisao, and missing terribly as it lurched sideways, the monster spun and started running toward me. Favoring one of its legs, the beast still outpaced any man, so I took no time in leveling the revolver once again; preparing to fire at the last possible moment.
Hopefully, if anything bad happened, Hisao had an extra bullet for me.
The wolf was barely a meter away when lightning flashed, and thunder boomed overhead, hiding the crack of Hisao's rifle as it blasted a hole through the creature's chest. Stumbling and yelping as it fell forward, doubling over limply, its momentum sent it down at an awkward angle. Stepping quickly out of the way, I yelped and nearly stumbled, but kept my feet. Watching it crash into the wet, muddy ground, I saw its massive form heave as it groaned; my shaking hand keeping the revolver trained on its head.
Stepping cautiously, I slowly moved closer, ready to fire if the thing so much as twitched. Despite everything, the werewolf was staring at me. Its yellow eyes, dimmed and half-shut, were no longer filled with the hatred they had held. Helpless and defeated, it no longer seemed threatening or malicious. Instead, its eyes were filled with pain or fatigue, and something like remorse.
Listening to it whimpering like a hurt puppy, I almost felt bad for it in that moment. Hearing Hisao moving next to me, his rifle aimed at the creature’s head, I noted his grim look and thought I saw something like pity in his eyes. Looking back as the creature's breathing became more ragged, I watched as its eyes rolled into the back of its head. The whimpering slowly became shallow, laboured breathing, followed by gurgling, and then… nothing. Its glowing eyes went dark as it slipped into oblivion.
The beast was dead.
“It’s… dead,” I half-mumbled, still not quite registering what had just happened. My brain was still pretty foggy at that point.
“Yeah,” Hisao said, sounding no less disturbed.
As the wolf slowly transformed back into its human form, Hisao peeled off his duster and tossed it onto the dead man. He was an ancient, shriveled being, with bits of white hair along the ears and neck. There were no claws or jagged teeth, or even an excessive amount of hair; as though he had never been a werewolf at all. The only remaining evidence that he had ever been the wolf-man were the horrific-looking wounds left by our weapons during his final assault.
“You okay?” Hisao asked.
Turning from the dead man to look Hisao over, I noticed his sweater-vest was torn, his bayonet was bent, and it looked like he had a bloody nose. There didn't appear to be any scratch or bite marks on him, though, so in the long run he was fine, even if he was breathing heavily.
“Yeah," I replied shakily, "how’re you?”
“Okay, considering," he replied with a slight shrug. Screwing his face up, he went on to ask, "do… we wanna talk about what you almost did back there?”
Realizing what he meant, I quickly explained, “it wasn’t cowardice, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had an idea and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I-”
“It's okay," he interjected, holding up a muddy hand, "you were terrified, you were trapped, you weren’t thinking straight. I’m just glad I was able to stop you,” he smiled, “your family needs you, after all. Plus Kenji would freak if he lost his secret scotch supplier.”
“Thanks,” I snorted, smirking dryly, "I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied.
Both standing there numbly, neither of us seemed entirely sure what to do next. After a somewhat long, uncomfortable silence, his eyes scanned over me for a second before he asked, “did you get my hat?”
Raising an eyebrow at the odd question, I shook my head and answered, “my hands were full.” Shrugging, I took my hat off and handed it to him. Looking down at the dead body before us, I inquired, “now what?”
“First,” Hisao said, reaching into his pants pocket, “we let our very worried families know we’re okay.”
Flipping the hat onto his rain-soaked head, he drew out his cellphone, dialed it, and waited. When someone on the other end picked up, he started speaking, “Hey, Hana, sorry for not calling. That stray dog showed up, so Akira and I chased it up the road for a while." Looking at me and nodding, I guessed he didn't plan to ever tell her what really happened.
"We’re fine," he said reassuringly, "and I don’t think it’ll be back." After another glance my way, followed by a look down at our next project, he forced a smile; more like a wince. "Got some bad news, though," he said, then paused. Nodding a response to a question I couldn't hear, he continued, "the storm did some serious damage to the summer house. Front door’s gone, front window’s gone, and there’s a hole in the roof."
More wincing on his part followed, accompanied by a muffled, raised voice that I could hear even over the rain; Hanako sounded irate, and that made me smile weirdly. "Yeah, Akira and I are gonna stick around and patch it up. I think we can still use it; we just need to be careful. I’ll call the contractor in the morning," he explained, not looking particularly content with the half-truths he was relaying.
Pausing, his face turned through a few different expressions, settling on a resigned look that seemed typical of a married man. "Don't worry, we’ll be back in time for breakfast," he said finally, "love you, too. Bye.”
Hanging up the phone and shoving it back in a pocket, he looked to me and motioned toward the body. "Wanna help me with this?” he requested, kneeling down by its torso.
The fast change from loving husband to determined wolf-slayer, or grave-digger, as it were, was rather jarring. The grim apathy written in his expression as he waited for me to respond caused me to wonder if he really was used to dealing with dead bodies; I probably didn't want to know.
Kneeling by its legs, I finally replied, “sure.”
Hefting the corpse by the legs, I lifted it under my arms while Hisao wrapped his elbows under its shoulders. The garish gunshot wounds, stab wounds and the long slice along its flank oozed dark red gore, staining Hisao's duster as we slowly walked back to the house. Keeping my eyes away from the body as we walked, I fought with every instinct in me to just drop it and run, but I couldn't abandon Hisao to do this alone.
The rain was starting to ease, and it was down to a light mist by the time we were actually back to the house. Setting the body down in front of the porch, we stretched and groaned. Hisao turned his gaze to the holes that used to be his front door and window, sighing disdainfully.
“Good thing we keep plenty of plywood in the garage,” Hisao mentioned, staring at the garage absently, “Hanako likes to use it when she works on parts.”
“Good,” I rubbed my neck and tried to shake some water from my hair, “hey, you got an extra shovel?”
Nodding, Hisao asked, “gonna help me dig the grave?”
"Yeah," I replied with a nod, "figured I should help put the poor bastard to rest.” Smirking slightly, my nerves were still in tatters as my body started to crash from the adrenaline. “Besides," I added, "it would suck if after we survived all that, you overexerted yourself digging and died from a heart attack.”
+++
Next Chapter
We wept, when we remembered Zion.
A concluding part will occur on Halloween night. Then we will return to our normal broadcasting schedule, which should feature 20% more noire, 35% fewer corpses, and 42% more former Yamaku students (actual numerical results may very). Feedback and complaints can continue to be directed at both myself and my liquor cabinet.
Previous Chapter
Part Five: Resolution
For almost as long as humans have walked on two legs, we have feared the wolf. There’s something about them that frightens us, seeping its way into our bones and chilling our hearts, filling us with a sense of reckless, irrational fear. Long ago humans and wolves became brothers, but, now, they are feared and hunted, sometimes to extinction. Still, we grudgingly respect our fellow predators, if for no other reason than in remembrance of what we once shared.
So you’ll forgive me if I wasn’t playing with a full deck when I stepped into that damned wheat field. The fact that I almost blew my brains out not five minutes ago ought to have been a fair indicator of my mental state. Swaying and rustling as I waded through it, the wheat itself seemed possessed of some supernatural power, but it was probably just my nerves getting to me.
Barely up to my waist, the budding tips of the golden stalks felt like thousands of eyes watching my every move. That, coupled with the thunder, flashes of lightning, the fierce, pounding rain, and the fact that I could barely see anything that wasn’t right in front of my face, made my mind go a little blank as I edged my way toward the sound of Hisao's howl.
The thought of that wolf, on all fours, dragging me down and tearing into my stomach almost made me cry, but I had a job to do, and a pseudo-brother-in-law to find. Hanako and Hisao weren't family by blood, but they might as well be, and the thought of being responsible for his death spurred me forward. If nothing else, I had to find him, dead or alive; preferably the latter. How I'd deal with the werewolf alone wasn't something I even wanted to consider, but I was really more terrified by the prospect of telling Hanako that Hisao had met with a grisly end under the razor-claws and dagger-teeth of a supernatural beast.
Glancing down at the revolver, and willing my hand to stop shaking, I tried to remember how many times I'd fired. Three times sounded right, but I wasn't sure. Turning the dagger to rest along the heel of my other hand, I unlocked the chamber on the revolver; I was right, three shots left. Staring at the cold, shining metal, I wondered for a second if I might need the last one for me, after all.
A rustling sound to my left snapped me back into focus, pushing the dark thoughts aside and bringing more terrifying ones to the forefront. Relocking the chamber and palming the dagger, I strained my eyes against the night and rain, trying to see the source of the movement. Roughly a dozen meters to my left, something was moving towards me in a narrowing circle; I was being hunted. Unsettled by the stalking chevron, I set my jaw and remembered I'm a lawyer; being hunted is something I do not like. It was time I play the predator, dammit!
Watching the parting grain, I saw it move closer to me, while still appearing to move closer to Hisao. It had to know I could see it, so I couldn't fathom what it was doing. Readying the revolver with one hand, I made sure my grip on the dagger was firm as I took a long, slow step toward the rustling.
Immediately, the rustling stopped. Like a flash of yellow-eyed lightning, the massive beast leaped from the wheat, streaking at me with its dagger-filled maw agape and its razor-like claws glinting in the rainy moonlight. This time, there was no hesitation; I aimed and fired. The revolver spat at the monster, and I ducked down just after the bullet grazed its left shoulder. Stumbling weirdly, it gave up its attack and instead dove over me, and I managed to cut a red line in its flank with the dagger as it passed.
Once it had passed by completely, I bolted upright just in time to watch it start loping through the wheat, headed toward Hisao. Its retreating chevron sped away much faster than its approach.
"Great," I lamented sardonically to myself, now it was directly between me and Hisao. Not having a choice, I started moving in the same general direction of the werewolf, tracing along the left side of its broken path.
As fight or flight finally kicked in, my body was wracked with adrenaline. Still terrified and jumping at every alien sound, I was able to push the fear back into the recesses of my mind as I waded through the wheat, but just barely. After a few tense minutes, a flash of lightning made me jump. My eyes widening with the flash, I caught sight of something looming over the wheat in the distance.
“Hisao?” I called.
When lightning flashed again, the figure was gone. Keeping my eyes on the spot intently, after a few moments, sure enough, once again the monster was prowling its way toward me through the wheat. Watching as it slowly stalked closer and closer, I didn’t think it was going to jump this time.
Just as its stalking form became visible through the wheat and rain, I heard Hisao howl again. The creature shifted slightly, following the sound, then spun back in my direction; apparently caught between deciding which of us to kill first. Settling on me after a long moment, it started dashing forward on all fours, growling maliciously.
Holding my ground as it charged, I waited as long as I could before screaming and jumping to the right. Landing and rolling onto one knee, I watched the beast stand on its hind legs barely more than an arm's length away. When it lunged down at me, I rolled again to the right, bringing up the revolver as it clawed toward my new position. Before I could fire, it wrapped the claws of its left paw around my hand, cutting off circulation and preventing me from pulling the trigger. As it tried to crush my fingers, I cried out, and my heart practically skipped a beat.
Snarling, the creature towered over me, its saliva-covered teeth bared as its tongue licked its lips. Its piercing, iridescent eyes burned through the night, bright and boring into me. Grimacing, I thrust the knife at the hand grasping my own, but the beast roared in pain as my dagger imbedded itself in its other palm as it moved to rip at my side. Shoving me away, the beast snapped with its teeth before swiping at me with its good hand; just barely missing my thigh.
Falling into a leftward roll, I shakily levelled the revolver in my pained hand as I came up, letting out a snarl of my own. The wolf lunged and tried to bite, so I pulled back and rolled to the left again as it crashed into the muddy field. Barely looking back, I stood and broke into a run, heading toward where I thought I had heard Hisao.
Feeling the pain shooting up my arm from my hand, I realized there was no way I could beat that thing with physical force. Hearing it shuffling behind me, I turned and roared, "dammit!"
Again the beast charged at me, so I dodged to the left, whipping the dagger at it in desperation. Lodging midway down its back, the silvery projectile brought a roar of pain from its frustrated throat as it turned mid run to face me. Again Hisao howled, and this time the wolf didn’t hesitate to run off after him; evidently deciding I wasn't worth the trouble.
Down to two bullets, I no longer had a dagger, and my wits were starting to fray, but Hisao was somewhere in that vast field. Of course, there was a werewolf between us, but the adrenaline being pumped through my veins by my quickened heartbeat had numbed me to the abject terror I knew I should have been feeling. Making sure my hat was on securely, which seemed silly in retrospect, I started jogging toward the noise, looking desperately for the rustling trail of the creature. Keeping myself focused on finding Hisao, because it was the only thing preventing my mind from locking in terror, I trudged onward, half blind, covered in sweat, mud, and werewolf blood.
The beast was getting slower, though, it seemed. Not quite lethargic, but its last few attacks lacked the voracity and agility of its assault on Hisao's summer home. With the blade wound to one of its paws, and gunshots through its shoulders, it probably hurt for it to run on all fours for long. Deep stab wounds in its back probably had a similar slowing effect, and the red line on its flank probably sent stinging pain every time it twisted around. Keeping those thoughts in mind, I paced along quickly, following its rather obvious trail of broken grain stalks and claw prints in the mud.
Another blast of lightning lit up a hulking figure to my right, and I knew instantly, even through the dark and the rain, it wasn't Hisao. In another flash I saw it wasn’t alone. Hisao stood at arm's length, deflecting claw strikes with his bayonet. The beast lunged constantly at his head with its vicious jaws, and repeatedly yelped as the bayonet struck against its assault.
"Hisao!" I yelled, breaking into a headlong run.
“Took you long enough!” he yelled back, pivoting away from another claw strike.
Swiping at its face as he spun, it recoiled and barked a pained protest. Seeing that moment, I leveled the revolver and fired it at the wolf’s chest. Striking somewhere in its midsection, the bullet sent the creature rocking away, roaring painfully. Raking its claws at Hisao, and missing terribly as it lurched sideways, the monster spun and started running toward me. Favoring one of its legs, the beast still outpaced any man, so I took no time in leveling the revolver once again; preparing to fire at the last possible moment.
Hopefully, if anything bad happened, Hisao had an extra bullet for me.
The wolf was barely a meter away when lightning flashed, and thunder boomed overhead, hiding the crack of Hisao's rifle as it blasted a hole through the creature's chest. Stumbling and yelping as it fell forward, doubling over limply, its momentum sent it down at an awkward angle. Stepping quickly out of the way, I yelped and nearly stumbled, but kept my feet. Watching it crash into the wet, muddy ground, I saw its massive form heave as it groaned; my shaking hand keeping the revolver trained on its head.
Stepping cautiously, I slowly moved closer, ready to fire if the thing so much as twitched. Despite everything, the werewolf was staring at me. Its yellow eyes, dimmed and half-shut, were no longer filled with the hatred they had held. Helpless and defeated, it no longer seemed threatening or malicious. Instead, its eyes were filled with pain or fatigue, and something like remorse.
Listening to it whimpering like a hurt puppy, I almost felt bad for it in that moment. Hearing Hisao moving next to me, his rifle aimed at the creature’s head, I noted his grim look and thought I saw something like pity in his eyes. Looking back as the creature's breathing became more ragged, I watched as its eyes rolled into the back of its head. The whimpering slowly became shallow, laboured breathing, followed by gurgling, and then… nothing. Its glowing eyes went dark as it slipped into oblivion.
The beast was dead.
“It’s… dead,” I half-mumbled, still not quite registering what had just happened. My brain was still pretty foggy at that point.
“Yeah,” Hisao said, sounding no less disturbed.
As the wolf slowly transformed back into its human form, Hisao peeled off his duster and tossed it onto the dead man. He was an ancient, shriveled being, with bits of white hair along the ears and neck. There were no claws or jagged teeth, or even an excessive amount of hair; as though he had never been a werewolf at all. The only remaining evidence that he had ever been the wolf-man were the horrific-looking wounds left by our weapons during his final assault.
“You okay?” Hisao asked.
Turning from the dead man to look Hisao over, I noticed his sweater-vest was torn, his bayonet was bent, and it looked like he had a bloody nose. There didn't appear to be any scratch or bite marks on him, though, so in the long run he was fine, even if he was breathing heavily.
“Yeah," I replied shakily, "how’re you?”
“Okay, considering," he replied with a slight shrug. Screwing his face up, he went on to ask, "do… we wanna talk about what you almost did back there?”
Realizing what he meant, I quickly explained, “it wasn’t cowardice, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had an idea and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I-”
“It's okay," he interjected, holding up a muddy hand, "you were terrified, you were trapped, you weren’t thinking straight. I’m just glad I was able to stop you,” he smiled, “your family needs you, after all. Plus Kenji would freak if he lost his secret scotch supplier.”
“Thanks,” I snorted, smirking dryly, "I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied.
Both standing there numbly, neither of us seemed entirely sure what to do next. After a somewhat long, uncomfortable silence, his eyes scanned over me for a second before he asked, “did you get my hat?”
Raising an eyebrow at the odd question, I shook my head and answered, “my hands were full.” Shrugging, I took my hat off and handed it to him. Looking down at the dead body before us, I inquired, “now what?”
“First,” Hisao said, reaching into his pants pocket, “we let our very worried families know we’re okay.”
Flipping the hat onto his rain-soaked head, he drew out his cellphone, dialed it, and waited. When someone on the other end picked up, he started speaking, “Hey, Hana, sorry for not calling. That stray dog showed up, so Akira and I chased it up the road for a while." Looking at me and nodding, I guessed he didn't plan to ever tell her what really happened.
"We’re fine," he said reassuringly, "and I don’t think it’ll be back." After another glance my way, followed by a look down at our next project, he forced a smile; more like a wince. "Got some bad news, though," he said, then paused. Nodding a response to a question I couldn't hear, he continued, "the storm did some serious damage to the summer house. Front door’s gone, front window’s gone, and there’s a hole in the roof."
More wincing on his part followed, accompanied by a muffled, raised voice that I could hear even over the rain; Hanako sounded irate, and that made me smile weirdly. "Yeah, Akira and I are gonna stick around and patch it up. I think we can still use it; we just need to be careful. I’ll call the contractor in the morning," he explained, not looking particularly content with the half-truths he was relaying.
Pausing, his face turned through a few different expressions, settling on a resigned look that seemed typical of a married man. "Don't worry, we’ll be back in time for breakfast," he said finally, "love you, too. Bye.”
Hanging up the phone and shoving it back in a pocket, he looked to me and motioned toward the body. "Wanna help me with this?” he requested, kneeling down by its torso.
The fast change from loving husband to determined wolf-slayer, or grave-digger, as it were, was rather jarring. The grim apathy written in his expression as he waited for me to respond caused me to wonder if he really was used to dealing with dead bodies; I probably didn't want to know.
Kneeling by its legs, I finally replied, “sure.”
Hefting the corpse by the legs, I lifted it under my arms while Hisao wrapped his elbows under its shoulders. The garish gunshot wounds, stab wounds and the long slice along its flank oozed dark red gore, staining Hisao's duster as we slowly walked back to the house. Keeping my eyes away from the body as we walked, I fought with every instinct in me to just drop it and run, but I couldn't abandon Hisao to do this alone.
The rain was starting to ease, and it was down to a light mist by the time we were actually back to the house. Setting the body down in front of the porch, we stretched and groaned. Hisao turned his gaze to the holes that used to be his front door and window, sighing disdainfully.
“Good thing we keep plenty of plywood in the garage,” Hisao mentioned, staring at the garage absently, “Hanako likes to use it when she works on parts.”
“Good,” I rubbed my neck and tried to shake some water from my hair, “hey, you got an extra shovel?”
Nodding, Hisao asked, “gonna help me dig the grave?”
"Yeah," I replied with a nod, "figured I should help put the poor bastard to rest.” Smirking slightly, my nerves were still in tatters as my body started to crash from the adrenaline. “Besides," I added, "it would suck if after we survived all that, you overexerted yourself digging and died from a heart attack.”
+++
Next Chapter
We wept, when we remembered Zion.
A concluding part will occur on Halloween night. Then we will return to our normal broadcasting schedule, which should feature 20% more noire, 35% fewer corpses, and 42% more former Yamaku students (actual numerical results may very). Feedback and complaints can continue to be directed at both myself and my liquor cabinet.
.
.