Mercenary Road (5 page)

“D.”

And saying that, he nailed the murderer’s throat to the floor with his blade.

“He had that coming to him. He could hide, but he couldn’t do anything to disguise his fear or killing lust. We saw that he was blending in with the floor ages ago,” said the hoarse voice.

Sheathing his blade, D raised his left hand. He gazed at his palm. A bizarre face appeared.

“You’d better hurry after ’em . . . At least, that’s what I’d normally tell you, but up ahead it’s swarming with supernatural soldiers. See? You can feel the unearthly air gusting off ’em! Luckily, if the legends are correct, they’ll only be covering the highway and its immediate vicinity. Towns and farms far from it should be safe, but if we collect those four robbers—I guess that’d be
three
now—and rescue any survivors there may or may not be, getting ’em back alive is gonna be tougher than tough. On your own, you’d probably manage something, but you’ll have all of them for baggage. It’ll be easier for you if there aren’t any survivors. Kill the other three robbers and the grand duke, and that’ll be the end of it. Oof!”

Squeezing his left hand tight, D stepped outside. He believed that after massacring this family, the three outlaws had galloped off toward the highway that was crawling with supernatural soldiers. The question was: Would they live long enough to make it to the ruins—the castle of the vampire Dorleac? On the off chance that they did, they would undoubtedly find something waiting there that was more fearsome than death.

Whatever D’s fate, he would accept it without complaint.

Once he’d mounted his cyborg horse, something white flowed out in front of him. Fog.

“Here they come, at last. Watch yourself,” the hoarse voice advised.

D broke into a gallop. Fog and air brushed his skin, tearing apart and sailing away.

It was through his ultrakeen senses that D realized something was flying at him from up ahead. The longsword glided from his back to meet it. Even in the fog, the silvery streak streamed out—and whatever it hit was struck down with a beautiful ringing sound.

Looking down at what lay on the ground, the hoarse voice muttered, “Blow darts?”

The weapons had conical bodies tipped with needles about eight inches long. Unlike arrows, they didn’t make a sound, meaning they were fearsome weapons of assassination at close range, but D knew that those who’d launched these were far off in the distance.

What about the second volley?

The heels of the Hunter’s boots struck the barrel of his horse, and rider and steed sailed through the air as if they were one. They were so beautiful, even the fog seemed to laud them. The instant they touched back down they broke into a full gallop. All of the blow darts aimed at the cyborg horse had passed right under it.

“If they take out your horse, we’ll be in a world of hurt. Seems the darts used by the mercenaries holding down the Florence Highway are coated with poison. Get off the road!”

Even before the voice told him this, D was tugging the reins to the left. Batting down three batches of blow darts, he got his steed running at a diagonal once they were down onto the plain. However, the fog showed no sign of clearing, leaving his field of view an endless expanse of white. D had nothing to rely on but his instincts. For perhaps thirty minutes he rode parallel to the road.

The fog unexpectedly cleared.

D narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll be damned!” the hoarse voice exclaimed. “What’s all this? They were able to fool you and me both?”

The cyborg horse had galloped up to the front of the same farmhouse they’d just left.

“Seems like being stuck in that fog numbs your sense of direction. Sent us right back where we started, eh?”

“Can you get rid of it?” D asked.

“More or less. Even if I said I couldn’t, you’d make me do it anyway, wouldn’t you? Hey, do you hear that?”

D nodded.

“They’re laughing! Calling you an idiot to fall for that so easily,” the hoarse voice said, and his remark seemed to carry both reproach and encouragement.

The cyborg horse tore at the ground—this time, they didn’t divert to the plains. They headed straight for the highway. The fog surged toward them. Like a sentient being, it took shape, engulfing the horse and rider from all sides. Just as D was about to meld with the whiteness, he looked like a person being caught in a tremendous wave.

It was at this second the incident occurred.

The fog flowed toward a certain spot. The spot moved with the same speed as the galloping cyborg horse, creating a shape like a gigantic funnel. The whirling fog was now being sucked into its own vortex. A minute later, the last of the fog had been consumed—during which time D raced a mile and a quarter, and even now he continued on at breakneck speed.

Countless presences were in motion to either side of him—the source of the blow darts. The ones who’d summoned the perplexing fog. It could be none other than the supernatural soldiers.

“Here they come! Now things are getting interesting,” the hoarse voice said, sounding excited.

More than his eyes, D relied on his hearing, but beyond that he was counting on a sort of sixth sense to locate his foes. The reanimated mercenaries couldn’t have had time to seal off the entire highway yet. Undoubtedly the forces hindering him at present were merely part of a scouting party. If there were military units, there would also have to be a chain of command. D’s intent was to destroy the core of that command structure.

Blow darts rained down on him from either side.

D raised his left hand. The human face that rose to its surface was plastered with an unsettling grin.

Whitish smoke enveloped D and his steed. This new white fog swallowed the blow darts that were aimed precisely at the horse and rider. D knew all the darts that flew into the fog would vanish. Just as the first fog had beguiled D’s sense of direction, the white fog billowing from his left hand was throwing the blow darts off course. It was precisely because of this that D had dared to ride down the middle of the highway.

“What’s this?” the left hand said in a purposeful tone.

D knew just what it was talking about.

Roughly five hundred yards ahead of them sat an object of incredible mass.

“They’re better armed than I thought. They’ve taken up a position there!”

“Can you confuse them?”

“That’ll depend on the opposition, I guess,” the hoarse voice said gravely.

The meaning of this was immediately apparent. A white cloud billowed toward them once again from up ahead. When the other fog collided with their own, it lost its ability to confuse.

Batting down the blow darts flying at him, D made his mount take a great leap. He easily cleared what appeared to be a seven-foot-high barricade looming before him. Constructed of steel pipes strung with iron netting, it was a tried-and-true arrangement.

As soon as they touched back down to earth, the fog vanished. The Hunter’s left hand wasn’t expelling it any longer . . . but not due to any instructions from D. They were simply on the same wavelength.

Figures in gray uniforms ran everywhere, trying to flee. They’d never expected D to break through like that. The attack that followed couldn’t have lasted ten seconds from start to finish. That was all it took to decide the victor.

D didn’t look at the foes around him. His target loomed about ten yards ahead. It called to mind the bridge of an ancient ship haphazardly covered with iron plates. Windows and loopholes for weapons dotted its lumpy surface with complete disregard for matters of physics or aesthetics, and it bristled with guns and cannons that made it look as menacing as a porcupine.

But even before these weapons turned toward him, D was leaping from the back of his horse.

—

III

—

It was more like a fortress than a tank. Still, it was oddly constructed. Not only were there pits and bumps all over it to assist in climbing, but hatches were scattered across its surface.

D drifted back down and was reaching for the handle of the hatch by his feet when the gun beside it swiveled in his direction. The muzzle was nearly three inches across. A direct hit would blow even D to pieces. His left hand grabbed it.

The gun was driven by a motor of several horsepower. But the Hunter easily forced it downward—that was the sort of unnatural strength his left hand possessed.

A shot howled from the gun. Neither the earsplitting roar nor the impact drew so much as a blink from D, but he saw flames and dirt shoot into the air. Using the hem of his coat to bat away the blow darts flying at him from below, the Hunter yanked on the hatch. One after another, the bolts shot free.

Apparently those down below were somewhat prepared. At the same time the heavy hatch was ripped off as if it were paper, a soldier with pistol in hand poked his head out. His bloodless waxwork of a face was as expressionless as a mask.

Before his opponent could take aim, D caught him by the collar. Without time to even draw a breath, the soldier was jerked out and discarded. Arms and legs flapping all the while, he landed some thirty feet away. By then the figure in black had slipped into the fortification.

Gunshots echoed and screams rang out. Soldiers who’d been running through the position in confusion rushed toward the tank. The instant they reached the hatch, a flash of black lightning flew out. In midair it transformed into D, with the hem of his coat spread like a pair of wings. The sword in his right hand glittered as his beauty made the supernatural soldiers look up in a daze.

Before D landed, the great fortress of a tank exploded. The blast and shrapnel mowed through the soldiers and blew away the barricade. After D touched down, the swelling flames surged toward him. His left hand came up.

Just look. Blistering flames of thousands if not tens of thousands of degrees formed a neat little stream that was sucked up by his palm. The speed with which it happened was frightening. The gout of flame that’d closed to within three feet of D ultimately disappeared without ever actually touching him.

Standing there perfectly straight, D surveyed his surroundings. The supernatural soldiers who lay on the ground were fading, one after another. Their shapes crumbled, they became masses of gas, and then the wind scattered them.

“So, even those who’ve died once can die again?” the left hand remarked, letting a belch escape.

Spotting a lone figure writhing some fifteen feet away, D approached him.

Though his basic features were human, it was unsettling the way the soldier’s face remained expressionless despite his obvious pain.

“If something isn’t done, you’re gonna die,” the hoarse voice said. “Answer some questions, and I’ll fix you up. Tell me who brought you jokers back to life, and what they’re after.”

Though the soldier lacked lips, he feebly worked a bare crack of a mouth, saying in a mechanical tone, “So . . . I’m dying?”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t really understand . . . Have I . . . done that . . . before?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t get it . . . I’m not afraid . . . at all . . . Are people normally . . . afraid?”

“You bet.”

“I was brought back . . . to fight . . . So if I can no longer fight . . . nothing remains but to die.”

“Then tell us who brought you back, and what they want. You can keep on living!”

The green, glassy eyes of the soldier reflected D’s handsome visage. Pupils that had lost their vitality suddenly regained their luster.

“You’re . . . beautiful,” he said with a parched mouth. “So lovely . . . I . . . want to live now.”

“Then you’d better talk.”

“Don’t want . . . to die . . . Please . . . save me . . . We were . . . brought back by . . .”

“Yes?” the left hand said, coming closer to his mouth—and then the hand found itself placed on his chest.

The soldier twitched. These were his death throes. In less than two seconds’ time, his body had turned to gas and lent a white tinge to the wind.

“We’re too late,” the hoarse voice said morosely. “It seems your face brought feelings back into him right before the end. Scary what a looker can do, ain’t it? Gaaah!”

Keeping his clenched fist down, D stood up. Nothing about the remnants of the tank or barricade was any different.

“They just threw these together from whatever they could find. But what’s really scary is—”

“Soldiers who’ve forgotten what death is?” D said, his voice casting a pall over the world of carnage.

Apparently the hoarse voice hadn’t learned its lesson.

“That’s right. No use threatening ’em. But maybe if you were to give ’em a kiss—gaaah!”

As he was squeezing his fist twice as tightly as before, D heard something approaching from the rear. It was his cyborg horse.

D quickly became a vision of beauty astride his steed.

“It’s a hard road! Wonder what kind of clowns will be waiting for us next? Scary, ain’t it?”

Naturally, D made a fist for a third time, and then started off on his horse.

—

After the Hunter had continued on for about thirty miles, what appeared to be a factory came into view to the left of the road.

“This is supposed to be an abandoned geoflow power plant. What have we here?”

Black smoke was rising from a rusty chimney on the factory. Even from a few miles away, D’s ears could catch the sounds of activity in the plant.

As D focused his gaze on the objects constructed around the building, the hoarse voice asked him, “You know what those are?”

“Mobile missile launchers.”

“Bingo! That plant’s another one of their posts. But what’s that sound? Why would they put the plant back into operation? Whatever the case, we’ll have to make a detour.”

D didn’t reply. His dark eyes were trained on something else.

From behind the factory, an old-fashioned motorcar resembling some sort of beetle had begun speeding toward him. Just behind it, three identical cars and what appeared to be an armored vehicle were in hot pursuit.

“What’s all this?”

“Doesn’t look to be an internal squabble.”

Even before D spoke, he’d spurred his horse into a gallop. The old-fashioned motorcar’s top speed was just under a hundred miles per hour; D pushed his steed at exactly the same pace. In less than thirty seconds he crossed paths with the car. D went by without stopping.

Out of the corner of his eye he’d caught a glimpse of the driver’s profile through the windshield. It was a girl with golden hair. He could see the faces of the supernatural soldiers in the three small pursuing cars. All looked the same—like mannequins. Each had a glittering longsword in hand as the cars closed on D.

All four of their paths came together at a single point. The three vehicles rolled in rapid succession. Every last soldier had been beheaded.

Challenging the armored vehicle without pausing for a second, D must’ve looked like a mirage as he rode past. A cloud of dust appeared behind him. The armored vehicle had fired its gun.

Just before flames and clouds of sand could envelop them, D and his cyborg horse made a mighty bound. In midair they shifted and flew right at the armored car.

Overhead, they heard a familiar sound. The instant D and his cyborg horse landed, the recognizable whistle became a song of destruction. As D pulled the reins to bring his steed down on one side, shock waves, flames, and death whizzed over his head. The horse stayed still, but D got up and looked back the way he’d just come.

A black speck was approaching from the far reaches of the highway. As he watched, it took the shape of an oversized jeep. It halted beside D, and the man in the driver’s seat grinned.

“Never thought D of all people would try to leave us high and dry.”

It was Strider.

From the passenger’s side, Stanza glared at the Hunter, saying, “You try our faith in you.”

The right side of the jeep had a rocket launcher that looked like an oblong tombstone, while the left side was equipped with a three-shot bazooka. The barrel of said bazooka now smoked from recent shots.

“Oh, the cavalry’s here,” the hoarse voice said sarcastically.

“You’re one to talk, running off without us,” Strider said, banging his fist against the steering wheel. “Didn’t the mayor order you to take us with you? You’re a lousy double-dealer!”

“Then don’t work with the double-dealer,” D said.

Strider snorted at this.

“The two of you should do well together. Go give them hell.”

Stanza’s eyes bulged in their sockets.

“Now just a minute! There’s no reason to go saying things like that. May I remind you that
we
were the ones who just destroyed that armored car?”

“I never asked you to do that.”

D’s reply put a spark of malice in the warrior woman’s eyes. Her right hand glided toward her hip.

“Knock it off,” Strider said to her. “All that aside, who’s that?”

The eyes of all three focused on the motorcar that was approaching from the rear.

“Came back, did she?” the hoarse voice said.

A sound rained down on them from overhead.

“Run for it! It’s a missile!”

At the same moment Strider stepped on the gas, an explosion occurred just five yards to their right. The jeep rolled onto its side. D had already spun around.

“Help them!” Strider shouted, having been thrown clear of the jeep, along with Stanza. His cries were lost in the succession of explosions.

Catching the shock waves on its underside, the jeep spun once in the air over the warriors’ heads before falling to the ground. They could see countless vehicles raising a cloud of dust as they approached from the factory.

Dismounting, D raced over to the jeep, which was still on its side. Pulling the rocket launcher’s remote control from the vehicle’s dashboard, he stared straight ahead.

“Don’t waste your time with that. Help whoever’s in that car!” Strider shouted angrily.

The jeep’s missiles had to be targeted manually. Eliminating multiple opponents in one fell swoop would clearly be impossible without taking precise aim.

Suddenly, the rocket launcher disgorged flames and white smoke. At least twenty missiles were sent off simultaneously. It was unclear whether they scored direct hits, because the flames from the exploding missiles engulfed every last enemy vehicle. Within this ugly orange fireball, more flames shot up—precisely the same number as the count of enemy cars.

“I don’t believe it—every damn one of ’em . . .” the stunned Strider groaned.

Ignoring him, D fired one last shot.

Leaving a white trail behind it, the missile entered the factory building.

The resulting explosion rocked heaven and earth. A pillar of flame rose into the sky. D, Strider, Stanza, the jeep, and even the motorcar were sent flying. First the jeep and the car landed, followed by the three people and the cyborg horse a good distance away.