4 Hardcore Zombie Novellas (23 page)

Sadahiko jumped forward, taking the keys from the snow and drawing
Tasogare
as he went.

With one hand he jabbed the point between the bars again and again, not caring who he stabbed so long as they kept away. He jammed the key in the lock and turned it, then retreated as it swung open.

Men tumbled out like bales of hay. Some of them were biting furiously. Those bitten screamed in agony and thrust out elbows, even kicking to get away. They scrambled through the snow, trailing blood. The guards parted for these, and thrust their blunt-headed
tsukub
ō
and their spiked
sodegarami
sleeve-catchers and their sharp, U-pronged
sasumatas
at the biting prisoners, entrapping them on the ground like wild dogs so the others could escape.

There were some forty prisoners lodged in the lesser jail, and they streamed out in a rush, inadvertently bowling over some of the guards, freeing the crazed, biting men to snap at their ankles and trip them up as they rushed by, pulling them down.

Sadahiko found himself in danger of being overrun himself, but he planted his feet and swept back and forth at the mob of men, describing a deadly arc of silver with
Tasogare
. The skin on the back of his neck rose with secret glee as
Tasogare’s
edge tore through four living men, spilling their guts and blood in a shower of scarlet. They tumbled to the ground, one of them nearly cut in half, forming a natural barrier that the men behind pitched clumsily over and the rest avoided, parting around him like a rushing river around a jutting stone.

He looked on the four dead men with satisfaction, thinking how only a few hours ago he had remarked how difficult it was to cut a man in two at the waist.

Then the bisected man began to twitch.

At first he thought it was the natural muscular reflexes of the dead. Sometimes the bodies of men he beheaded continued to shake and jump. It was why women tied their legs together before committing
jigai
—so the throes of death would not shame them.

But the upper half of the dead man did not simply tremble. It lifted itself on two hands and began to drag itself towards him. Its eyes were wide open and regarded him, though they were clouded over with strange, blue gray cataracts. Its nose twitched like a hunting animal’s, and its teeth gnashed and snapped.

He took a step back and regained himself, then struck off its head. It slumped, lifeless once more.

In a moment, the other three men he had cut began to stir.

He did the same for these, decapitating each in turn. But he did it with a dread deep in his chest that harrowed him to the core.
What madness was this? What monstrosity?

He fell back toward the line of guards. Something gripped his pant leg. He glanced down and saw one of the
doshin
on the ground, bleeding from a bite wound in his neck. That same cloudy glaze was in his feral eyes.

Sadahiko split the guard’s head down to his teeth.

Hands gripped his elbow and Sadahiko nearly cut the young warden down.

“What are you doing?” the warden stammered.

Sadahiko shrugged him off and leapt over the four bodies into the oncoming rush. He dodged through the prisoners until he reached the cell door. Jamming
Tasogare
into the ground, he flung his shoulder against the door and slammed it shut, knocking back a half dozen men still trying to funnel out the exit.

He turned the key in the lock and pulled his sword from the ground.

He backed away quickly as outthrust hands clawed at his clothes.

The warden had followed him.

“What are you doing?”

Sadahiko grabbed him by the throat.

“Listen to me! No more can come out, and all that will die must be killed!”

He dragged the warden over to the men he had twice killed and, gripping him by the nape like a wayward pet, forced him to look.

“Look! I cut these men down and they rose again. The men you shot attacked the others.”

The warden tried to shake his head, but Sadahiko would not let him.

“The
doshin
I killed. Go and look at his body. He was bitten in the throat. He was dead
before
I split his skull.” Sadahiko released the man. “Go! Look!”

The warden backed away from Sadahiko.

All around them, the sudden fight had subsided.

The prisoners who had escaped the jail room were huddled in a corner near the prison wall, penned in by guards. Across the yard, curious faces pressed sleepily against the bars of the greater jailhouse.

A few of the biting prisoners were writhing and snarling like animals on the ground, pinned by the
doshins’
poles.

Some of the men, prisoners and guards alike, sat or lay in the disturbed snow, hands clasped to bleeding wounds. None of these looked too serious.

The men still locked in the lesser jail begged to be let out. There were groans from the darkness behind them.

The warden went to stand over the
doshin
he had seen Sadahiko kill.

“I tell you, he was dead. These others were dead. But they
moved
.” Sadahiko turned to regard the four men being restrained by the
doshin
. “Look at their eyes. Look at their wounds. There! From the muskets! You saw them fall!”

“Listen to him!” shouted one of the prisoners huddled against the wall.

The warden marched over to where the prisoners were being guarded, and the pleading of the men still locked in the jail became shrill.

“What are you talking about?”

A spindly man with wiry hair spoke above the others until they quieted down;

“When the new man killed the latrine boss, Koda Moan
,
we laid his body out on his
tatami
in a corner and old Denzo said prayers over him,” the man related breathlessly. “When we all lay down to sleep and the lights were put out, we heard Denzo scream. Some of us went over there and found him wrestling with someone in the dark. A couple of us, Ichige and Entaro, they tried to pull them apart. Ichige, he got bit bad in the arm. We dragged the biter close to the bars to see who he was by the moonlight. It was Koda Moan.”

The warden bunched up his lips, disbelieving.

“He kept fighting, snapping at us. Then old Denzo crept up on somebody and started gumming them. We thought he’d gone crazy. Then Ichige bit Entaro …”

“What is this madness?” the warden chuckled, waving the prisoner away and stalking back to the jail room. “I’ll see for myself.”

But as he came to the door of the jail, he stopped. The dozen who had been standing there begging to be let out had fled back into the dark and were apparently hiding. Three men stood at the door of the lesser jail, moaning and reaching out beseechingly. Their eyes were all a milky gray and they bore the marks of terrible wounds. One of them was trailing his own coiling intestines. Another’s forearm hung twisting from the elbow by a ragged thread of bloody flesh, and a third had a gaping, blackened bullet wound in the middle of his chest.

The warden took a hesitant step backward.

There were exclamations from the guards, and one of them nearly let go of their charge, a pale eyed prisoner covered in blood lying on his back in the snow, pinioned by two
tsukub
ō
. It—for by its behavior Sadahiko could not consider it a man—gave an obscene spasm of effort, spitting and growling and snapping its jaws. The noise seemed contagious, for the other three trapped creatures did the same before they all succumbed once again and lay still, groaning, gathering their strength.

A blubbering noise erupted from the dark jail room and was quickly silenced.

The four horrors at the cell door turned in unison and walked slowly back to hunt for the others who were hiding. The disemboweled creature stumbled on its own entrails heedlessly. They were the last thing to recede into the shadows, sliding across the floor like eels, leaving a trail of blood.

Sadahiko stepped up to one of the trapped prisoners and thrust the point of his sword a few times into its torso. It howled and struggled, but not from pain. Blood welled up from the wounds and spilled onto the snow, and as it writhed, flecked the terrified guards who held it in check.

The warden made a move as if to stop him, but waited.

Sadahiko watched it for a moment. They all did. It continued to snap and struggle, never diminishing in strength. Then he swung his sword and struck its head from its neck. Instantly it lay still, though its dead eyes were unchanged. It simply ceased to move.

“Murderer!” the warden whispered.

“
Jikininki
,” said Gorobei, the
doshin
whose ear had been bitten off. His eyes were red rimmed, his lips trembling.

The others looked at him.

Gorobei spluttered as he spoke, the red stained cloth clamped over the side of his head making him look all the more unhinged. “We are cursed … by that old monk. He really is some kind of master
jikininki
. He’s cursed us!”

“Shut up!” the warden spat. “Nonsense! All nonsense!”

Sadahiko regarded him quietly.

“The same must be done for these others. And the ones in the lesser jail.”

A scream came from the lesser jail, and wet, terrible sounds, as of bones breaking and skin tearing, of stomachs emptying onto the wood floor.

“Jinza!” the warden growled. “Transfer the lesser jail prisoners into the greater jailhouse. Take the wounded men to the infirmary and see they’re tended to.”

“The surgeon won’t be in until the morning,” Jinza reminded him.

“Yes I know,” the warden said. “Do the best you can.”

“If their wounds are fatal, they’ll have to be beheaded,” Sadahiko said plainly.

Jinza looked from the warden to Sadahiko. The warden looked at the ground.

“I know what I saw,” Sadahiko said.

“I’ll take some men in there after those four madmen myself. There are still prisoners in there that need help.”

“Sir!” said Gorobei, who had been listening. “Please, don’t make me go in there!”

“Gorobei!” Jinza barked, disgusted at the guard’s nervous tone.

“You’re hurt, Gorobei,” the warden intervened. “Go to the infirmary with the other prisoners.”

Gorobei flushed and bowed deeply.

“No matter. The ones still inside are dead anyway,” Sadahiko said.

The warden looked at Sadahiko, hissing.

“Please, stop this. You’re inciting panic.”

“I would burn the lesser jail down if I were you.”

“Captain,” the warden said to Jinza. “Before you carry out your orders, please escort Kumada-
sama
to my residence and see him to bed.”

“Bed?” Sadahiko said, disbelieving.

“Your services won’t be needed tonight,” said the warden. “Please feel free to retire. My men and I will handle this crisis. Don’t trouble yourself.” He gave a short bow.

“You think you can put me under house arrest?” Sadahiko challenged.

“I didn’t say that. You must have misunderstood …”

“You little cur!” Sadahiko snapped, touching the hilt of
Tasogare
.

Instantly three
sasumata
were leveled at him, and Jinza brandished his
jitte
baton, ready and able to trap and break his sword
.

“The law requires that you be detained until the matter of officer Samidare Kinpachi’s death can be investigated,” the warden told him coldly.

“Who?”

“The
doshin
I saw you kill,” the warden said, glaring.

“Please feel free to resist, samurai
-sama
,” said Jinza, unsmiling.

Sadahiko looked from Jinza, to the warden, to the three
doshin
covering him. He let his hand drop from the handle of his sword.

He knew what he had seen. Dead men had moved. They had attacked the living. This pup of a warden thought this was some kind of sickness, or hysteria. Sadahiko did not believe in
jikininki
or curses, but he had lived with death long enough to know it when he saw it. He was familiar enough with its finality to know its nature had somehow been suspended. Altered. Something unnatural was going on at the prison, and he was afraid, but not for his sanity. He did not doubt what he had seen.

“Very well,” he said. “But you will pardon me if I do not relinquish my sword.”

Jinza looked to the warden uncertainly.

“Let him keep it,” the warden sighed. “Just see he stays put.”

It was half past midnight when it stopped snowing. The screams and the musket fire grew sporadic.

Dog had lain awake listening to them.

Minoru too remained wakeful, playing his flute. He paused once to squat in the corner and sculpt a new
Jiz
ō
for the wall. The crazy bastard knelt there saying sutras over it, clasping his filthy hands together and rocking where he sat, touching his head to the grimy floor like a supplicant, heedless of whatever was going on outside.

After the first volley, Dog stood at the grate and peered out through the bars, though he could see nothing. The trouble was far across the compound. What in hell was going on? He heard orders barked, and the alarm tolled. No one came to their part of the prison. They had no news other than what could be gleaned from what they heard.

After the alarm, things were quiet for an hour, the strange, tense silence broken only by the occasional shout from the direction of the lesser jail
.
Then there came another loud commotion, followed by a second volley of rifle fire, and a tremendous crash as of a wall collapsing somewhere. The alarm sounded again, and there was a lot of yelling back and forth amongst the
doshin
. Orders and counter-orders, nothing much discernible beyond the calling out of various areas of the prison. The lesser jail, the upper rooms, the infirmary, now the greater jail and the armory. Dog thought maybe a fire had broken out and was spreading across the compound.
Good. Let the whole damned place burn around them.

But they saw no lights, smelled no smoke. The intermittent cries and screams continued off and on for hours. Soon he heard women too. Whatever it was, it had engulfed the entire western quarter of the prison.