Vampire Hunter D Volume 18- Fortress of the Elder God (7 page)

“What the hell are you doing?” Jan shouted.

Bierce, seeming to take this as his signal, swung both arms around. Four arrows were clutched between the fingers of each hand. His crimson arrows zipped out between the blue ones. Four blazing riders galloping on either bank dropped from their mounts.

“Buddy, that’s pretty awesome!” Jan cried out in the fever of battle. The old warrior had batted down the enemy’s arrows, and pierced their foes with each of his own. The raft had impenetrable defenses and a flawless offensive.

When eight more of their opponents had dropped from their horses, D said, “They’ve multiplied.”

There was the sound of pounding against the ground as the pale blue mounts and riders once again rode even with the raft. Blue arrows fell from the sky like rain.

“There’s just no end to it!” Weizmann wailed.

When a black-gloved hand tapped him on the shoulder, the transport officer turned a stunned look at the inhumanly beautiful countenance while D pointed at the cliff to their right.

“Drop that,” he said.

About a hundred yards ahead of the galloping riders, there was a knotlike protrusion halfway up the face of the cliff. An outcropping of rock.

“I got you,” the officer said, but as he stood up he was jerked to one side by his collar, allowing an arrow to pass before he was let go again.

“I leave it to you, then,” the Hunter said.

Weizmann’s whole body tensed. The fight burned in him.

“Keep an eye on the suckling for me,” he said, raising his beloved motor gun. The twelve-pound mass of metal seemed like a crushing weight to his shoulder, arm, and legs. For sighting purposes it simply had a little piece of iron, notched to make a primitive crosshairs. The weapon was primarily intended to spray bullets at close range and mow down the enemy. It didn’t have the precision of a long-range scope.

A stream of fire and a deafening report flew from the moving raft. Twelve-millimeter explosive rounds hammered the base of the rock outcropping. Ten yards ahead of the madly charging riders, the chunk of rock dropped from thirty yards above them, its tremendous mass crushing a dozen or more steeds in the vanguard and as many men. When the terrific impact rocked the water, and fragments of the rock sent up splashes, the riders on either shore not surprisingly halted, and the raft left them behind.

-

Though the eastern sky was brightening like water, the river’s flow grew no gentler. Aside from D, almost everyone on the raft, including Bierce, had dropped off to sleep, but Jan was sulking.

“Sheesh, they all ignored me. Hell, I can handle myself better than the average guy. I might not be a Hunter or a warrior, but I want a chance to strut my stuff. They’d better remember they’ve got a real man here.”

As he grumbled, the mobster kept his voice low so that D wouldn’t hear it while skillfully using an oar to avoid rocks and rapids. But the young hoodlum had had all he could take.

It was then that his ears caught a thin thread of sound that he realized was most definitely a voice.

I know just how you feel, it said.

What the hell? the mobster intended to shout and leap to his feet, but he only grunted a puzzled sound and moved slightly. For some reason, he got the feeling he had to restrain himself.

Just as he was thinking his ears had been playing tricks on him, the voice continued, I understand your dissatisfaction. They can only ignore you for so long. Would you like to tell me about it?

“Who the hell are you?”

Shhhhh.

As the voice said this to him, Jan opened his eyes. Instinctively he looked at D. Their eyes met. He hurriedly looked away.

“Was I dreaming?” he muttered. Looking around, he didn’t see a single sign that anyone else was awake.

“What a weird dream,” he said, closing his eyes and trying to get back to sleep. Though he didn’t hear the strange voice again, Jan was somewhat surprised to realize that he wanted to hear it. At the same time, an intense hatred reared its head. The voice understood about D and that freaking Bierce, not to mention the transport officer. He got to show off, and he was still a damned kid!

Jan tried to sleep. His efforts were successful. The anger that had left him ready to scream had been quelled by the voice he’d just heard, thin but brimming with affection.

I understand. I can help you.

-

“Something’s bothering me,” a low, hoarse voice griped. It was so faint the others wouldn’t have heard it over the sound of the river.

“What’s that?” D asked, swiftly pushing the oar against an approaching rock to redirect the raft.

“From what I’ve seen, we’ve got two weirdoes here. The kid and the suckling. Neither one’s normal.”

“What’s different about them?”

“I’m not too sure about the kid, but he seems to be carrying a heavy load. Until he gets rid of it, he’ll be living under a cloud.”

“And the other one?”

“Him—he’s dangerous,” the hoarse voice said quite plainly. “Up until now, he’s come off as an ordinary suckling. The fact that the transport officer’s still doing okay after the sheriff died is proof of that. But there’s a danger in him you don’t find in your average suckling. There’s something unsettling about him. You must’ve noticed it too. It’ll be daytime soon, when you’ll be at your weakest. Whatever you do, don’t let your guard down.”

There were faint traces of haggardness to be seen in D’s handsome features.

“Oh, my,” the hoarse voice said, sounding surprised. “The current has weakened. Guess we’re just about there. At this rate, we should arrive in an hour.”

“If all goes well.”

And saying this, D turned around and looked overhead. His eyes alone would find that, in the far reaches of the clear but still pale heavens, there hung countless black specks.

-

II

-

By the time these specks became four-winged demon birds that assailed the raft, everyone aboard was awake and braced to counterattack. With wings over three feet long, the birds had beaks like pickaxes and four legs with four toes each for a total of sixteen talons. The wind their wings created left innumerable ripples on the water’s surface.

When they dove down, Weizmann opened fire on them with the motor gun. As the fusillade of explosive rounds made contact with the bodies of the great birds, the bullets created preposterously large holes, tearing them into pieces that plummeted into the river. The water was stained red.

Once they made it past the hail of bullets, they were greeted by D’s sword and Bierce’s arrows. One swipe of the blade decapitated the giant birds, while the arrows pierced even their ironlike beaks as if they were paper.

Before the flock of birds flew away more than a score of members shy, a dozen minutes of deadly combat had taken place.

“Anyone hurt?” Weizmann asked, but they all shook their heads.

His motor gun, D’s sword, and Bierce’s arrows had kept the enemy from achieving anything. Something resembling self-confidence seemed to emanate from the young transport officer.

“Looks like we managed to make it through,” he said as he mopped his sweat.

Bierce replied, “It’s still too early to celebrate. They’ve got things out hunting humans by day; they’ll just keep coming. You think the Nobility are controlling ’em?”

The last question was directed at D.

“Programming for human hunting must’ve been put into their brains. There were operation scars on their heads.”

“You could actually see that?” Bierce said, and not only his eyes, but also those of everyone who heard this, went wide.

“Excuse me,” Maria said, pointing up at the sky. “Here they come again. They’re carrying something. They plan on bombing us!”

Before she’d finished speaking, something whistled through the wind, and a great pillar of water went up not three feet from the right side of the raft. The waves surged toward them, making the raft pitch wildly. In order to both move quickly and keep the enemy from gaining a foothold, the raft was just big enough for the nine people. While it wasn’t exactly tiny, it had difficulty with these great waves. Chunks of black rock continued to fall on all sides of them, and the group was assailed by the spray from the pillars of water that went up.

“You clumsy bastards can’t hit us!” the soaked Jan jeered toward the sky.

Perhaps out of fear of Weizmann’s motor gun, the birds conducted their bombardment from a high altitude, and fortunately their accuracy was extremely poor. D’s skillful handling of the craft allowed the group to dodge all of the chunks of rock, with only one grazing the back end of the raft. However, as their foes carried five rocks each—one in their beaks, and another with each of their four feet—the onslaught showed no sign of ending. The raft pitched violently, and soaked from head to toe, Toto and the elderly couple began to vomit. They were seasick.

“Damn it, come in closer and fight us like men!” Jan said, shaking his fist as another pillar of water went up beside him, rocking the raft.

At the same time, something terrible happened. D and Bierce were both thrown off balance, and the others could only watch, their blood turning to ice, as the two men were swallowed by the raging current.

“Oh, damn!”

Though Jan and Maria each crawled over to where one of the men had gone in, there was no sign of them surfacing in the wake of the raft as it floated away.

Blasted with a gust of terror, Jan turned to Weizmann. Their last hope was the young man’s motor gun. The mobster looked up. The shapes that’d been flying high above them were now steadily approaching.

“Here they come! Shoot ’em!”

With a strained look on his face, Weizmann raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Nothing came out.

“What’s wrong?” Maria screamed.

“It’s malfunctioned! It won’t fire!”

“Give it to me, you fucking idiot!”

As Jan was about to run over, a fierce wind slammed down in front of him and an enormous shape landed like a fiend spreading his cape. The man’s nostrils were assailed by the stench of rotting meat.

“You—you son of a bitch!”

Narrowly dodging an artless strike by that pickax of a beak, Jan struck out with his broadsword as if to counter it. One of the monster bird’s two left wings was chopped halfway through at the base. Raising its severe beak, it let out a shriek.

Covering his ears, Jan crouched down. The old woman and Maria screamed.

Three more of the giant birds were coming down to land on the raft. The remaining dozen or so circled fifteen to twenty feet above them.

It was at that instant that two figures sprang up beside the raft. One of them zipped between the birds with unbelievable speed. Every time he passed one, there was a stark gleam, and the bird’s head went flying. Unlike Jan’s opponent, these fell without making a sound.

On seeing the danger, another bird started to take off, only to have its neck pierced by an iron arrow. The birds circling overhead also turned around. One flap of their wings started them in a sharp ascent. A roar and fiery streaks ripped their wings apart, pulverizing their heads and bodies.

“How in the world did you two . . .” Maria said in a stunned tone after watching the last of the birds fall on the left bank, her remark addressed to Bierce and D, who’d already sheathed his blade.

“You tricked me, didn’t you, you bastard?” Jan spat at Weizmann a minute later as the officer lowered the smoking motor gun.

“Don’t take it personally. I told those two how it would go. If we hadn’t pulled this, those things never would’ve come any closer.”

Weizmann was embellishing the story. Actually, it was D who had approached the transport officer and told him to feign trouble with his gun once they’d jumped overboard, and then wait for the birds to take the offensive.

“Shit!” Jan cursed again.

“Okay, it was a good plan, but let’s have no more of that stuff. This old lady looked like she was going to die,” Maria told them harshly, while down at her feet, Mrs. Stow sported lips that were purple and trembling.

“Bad news! She’s got a terrible fever,” Bierce said, knitting his brow as he put his hand against her forehead. “She’s old. If things go bad, she and her husband might both come down with pneumonia. We’ve gotta warm ’em up. Get the raft to shore.”