Read Online Tale of the Dead Town by Hideyuki Kikuchi - Free Book Online
Authors: Hideyuki Kikuchi
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without seeing his weapons, the average person
needed only a glance at the size of their owner to start quaking in their boots. With
just one look at the sheriff, some folks might even confess to crimes they hadn’t
even committed.
“I wanna know if you’ll promise me something,” the sheriff said. “Just tell me you’ll
leave town without doing anything. Don’t worry—I’ll tell the mayor you did your darnedest
to take care of business. You follow me?”
There was no answer. The only thing about D that stirred was his hair, brushed by
the wind. Vermilion started to tinge Sheriff Hutton’s face. Slowly, he backed away.
The business end of the rocket launcher he still had tucked under his arm jerked up.
All seven barrels glared blackly at D.
“Don’t think I’ll give you any warning.” The slight metallic click was the sound of
the safety being disengaged. “I only give you the hint once. Ignoring it is the same
as crossing me. And it wouldn’t do the town a bit of good to let a fool like that
go on living,” the sheriff said, his voice cheery and his face bright.
An icy tone mixed with the wind. “You were one of the people who investigated the
Knight house, weren’t you? What was in there?”
“What the hell are you yammering about?!” the sheriff said, his voice taut, but he
didn’t do anything. He didn’t even move the finger he had wrapped around the rocket
launcher’s trigger.
“Answer me,” the voice said again. The Hunter’s eyes were still trained on the white
pillar of water spraying upward, making it difficult to say just who was grilling
whom in this bizarre scene. Neither of the two moved, but in the space between them
an invisible but nonetheless fierce battle was unfolding.
Strength surged into the sheriff’s trigger finger. His weapon had been set to discharge
all seven projectiles at once. In a matter of seconds, the bench and the young man
sitting on it would be reduced to ash by a thirty-thousand-degree conflagration.
The faint sound of a siren pulled the weapon’s muzzle from its target. Looking unexpectedly
relieved, the sheriff’s long face turned upward. Something more than just clouds resided
in the azure sky. “Looks like the bastards have come for us. Damn, you’re lucky. The
next time I catch you alone, you’ll wish to hell you’d left town when you had the
chance.”
The sheriff kept his eyes on the sky as he walked off, but D didn’t give the lawman
so much as a glance. When the Hunter finally did raise his face, the flapping shapes
coming down from above could clearly be made out as birds. A siren stuttered to life
like a suffocating person gasping for air. People bolted into the residential sector,
stumbling along in their haste. D stood up.
A flock of predatory birds was on the attack. Ordinarily, these vicious monsters flew
at altitudes of six thousand feet or more, and fed on the air beasts and flying jellyfish
that lived at that height, but, when food became scarce, they’d come closer to earth.
The larger ones had wingspans of over sixty feet. They could even carry off a giant
cyclops. But the most frightening thing about them was that they didn’t act alone,
but rather always attacked in flocks of dozens. To their starving eyes, the moving
town must’ve looked like one tremendous meal for the taking.
In the distance, the chatter of what sounded like machine-gun fire started. Streaks
of flame rose to meet the approaching shapes. A black curtain swiftly fell over the
streets. Around D, the stand of trees bent backward from the intense pressure of the
wind.
Giving a stomach-churning caw, a bird with a wingspan of over fifteen feet swooped
down like it was going to land right on top of D. Resembling a short horn, its beak
was filled with nail-like teeth. Between wings beating incessantly with gale-force
winds, clawed feet were visible. Three digits as thick as tree
needed only a glance at the size of their owner to start quaking in their boots. With
just one look at the sheriff, some folks might even confess to crimes they hadn’t
even committed.
“I wanna know if you’ll promise me something,” the sheriff said. “Just tell me you’ll
leave town without doing anything. Don’t worry—I’ll tell the mayor you did your darnedest
to take care of business. You follow me?”
There was no answer. The only thing about D that stirred was his hair, brushed by
the wind. Vermilion started to tinge Sheriff Hutton’s face. Slowly, he backed away.
The business end of the rocket launcher he still had tucked under his arm jerked up.
All seven barrels glared blackly at D.
“Don’t think I’ll give you any warning.” The slight metallic click was the sound of
the safety being disengaged. “I only give you the hint once. Ignoring it is the same
as crossing me. And it wouldn’t do the town a bit of good to let a fool like that
go on living,” the sheriff said, his voice cheery and his face bright.
An icy tone mixed with the wind. “You were one of the people who investigated the
Knight house, weren’t you? What was in there?”
“What the hell are you yammering about?!” the sheriff said, his voice taut, but he
didn’t do anything. He didn’t even move the finger he had wrapped around the rocket
launcher’s trigger.
“Answer me,” the voice said again. The Hunter’s eyes were still trained on the white
pillar of water spraying upward, making it difficult to say just who was grilling
whom in this bizarre scene. Neither of the two moved, but in the space between them
an invisible but nonetheless fierce battle was unfolding.
Strength surged into the sheriff’s trigger finger. His weapon had been set to discharge
all seven projectiles at once. In a matter of seconds, the bench and the young man
sitting on it would be reduced to ash by a thirty-thousand-degree conflagration.
The faint sound of a siren pulled the weapon’s muzzle from its target. Looking unexpectedly
relieved, the sheriff’s long face turned upward. Something more than just clouds resided
in the azure sky. “Looks like the bastards have come for us. Damn, you’re lucky. The
next time I catch you alone, you’ll wish to hell you’d left town when you had the
chance.”
The sheriff kept his eyes on the sky as he walked off, but D didn’t give the lawman
so much as a glance. When the Hunter finally did raise his face, the flapping shapes
coming down from above could clearly be made out as birds. A siren stuttered to life
like a suffocating person gasping for air. People bolted into the residential sector,
stumbling along in their haste. D stood up.
A flock of predatory birds was on the attack. Ordinarily, these vicious monsters flew
at altitudes of six thousand feet or more, and fed on the air beasts and flying jellyfish
that lived at that height, but, when food became scarce, they’d come closer to earth.
The larger ones had wingspans of over sixty feet. They could even carry off a giant
cyclops. But the most frightening thing about them was that they didn’t act alone,
but rather always attacked in flocks of dozens. To their starving eyes, the moving
town must’ve looked like one tremendous meal for the taking.
In the distance, the chatter of what sounded like machine-gun fire started. Streaks
of flame rose to meet the approaching shapes. A black curtain swiftly fell over the
streets. Around D, the stand of trees bent backward from the intense pressure of the
wind.
Giving a stomach-churning caw, a bird with a wingspan of over fifteen feet swooped
down like it was going to land right on top of D. Resembling a short horn, its beak
was filled with nail-like teeth. Between wings beating incessantly with gale-force
winds, clawed feet were visible. Three digits as thick as tree
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