Haven

Excerpts from Chapter 14: Legend of the Daruma    

    The shock of discovering the slain sisters, their once elegant and graceful bodies broken, lifeless, was more than I could endure. I made to call out, but the words refused to form. All energy drained from my legs. I was helpless; able only to stare at this latest vision of tragedy fate had seen fit to set out for my torment.

    Awakened by my absence, or perhaps by a premonition, Melissa came rushing through the door.

‘What’s hap… Oh, Jesus Christ, no,’ she groaned, falling to her knees. A second later she jerked her head in my direction.

    ‘Coral’s gone,’ was all I could manage to say in answer to her unspoken question.

    ‘The Scavengers,’ she breathed. ‘The soulless bastards.’

    I began to regain control of my limbs and helped Melissa to her feet. ‘Soulless, maybe,’ I remarked, ‘but as of now, they’ve just hit the jackpot. The mask, Coral and one extinct Collective. All they need to go for gold.’

    Suddenly Melissa grabbed my arm. ‘What about Tomoko-san?’

    I extinguished the failing candles and gently closed the cabin door so the sisters could continue their eternal sleep undisturbed. Melissa and I then ran across the complex to the log cabin where old Catch and I had met on my first visit to the shrine. The place was in darkness, the doors locked and window shutters closed.

    ‘Maybe she’s okay,’ I commented hopefully. ‘But we’ll have to check.’ I knocked lightly on the door.

    ‘Fortunately, no one at home,’ came a shaky voice from behind. We spun around to find the bloodstained figure of Jonah Catch staggering towards us.

    ‘Jesus wept,’ I blasphemed. ‘What’s happened?’

    Catch literally fell into my arms, gasping for breath. ‘I’d love to chat,’ he coughed, ‘but, as our American friends would say, the somewhat overweight lady has commenced her aria.’

    I shook my head. Only Catch would come out with something daft like that at a time like this.

‘Okay,’ I replied. ‘Is she singing well?’

    Catch spluttered. ‘Marvellously, my dear boy. Like an Angel.’

    ‘Good, there’ll be an encore, then,’ I snapped. ‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’

    It seemed best to help the injured man back to our hut, since it was warm and there was always hot water on the go to make drinks. Once installed, Catch, barely conscious, allowed Melissa to examine his condition.

    ‘He’s been shot in the chest,’ she reported. ‘I don’t know much about guns except what that dope of an ex tried to teach me, but I’d say it must have been a hefty-sized weapon.’

    ‘What can we do?’ I whispered. ‘There’s no one else here, no phones and no transport.’

    ‘Again, I’m no expert,’ Melissa replied, ‘but the wound’s a mess and right over his heart. He’s obviously lost a lot of blood and, well, I think he’s right about the fat lady.’

    We did our best to stem the bleeding, then made him as comfortable as possible.

    ‘Just returned,’ he breathed with difficulty. ‘Saw two figures leaving the twin’s cabin carrying something heavy. Gave chase, but getting a little too old these days. Grave news I expect.’ He looked up at me, perhaps hoping that for once I’d be able to contradict him. I couldn’t.

    ‘The sisters are gone, and Coral’s been taken,’ I said plainly.

    ‘Then the battle is all but lost,’ the old Custodian wheezed.

    Melissa and I exchanged glances, but made no reply.

    ‘What about Tomoko-san?’ Melissa asked gently.

    Catch managed a smile. ‘By God’s good grace, she is unharmed. My good lady, you might remember, has relatives in these parts. Said she would visit overnight if I was late… Listen, my children,’ he croaked, grasping us both by the arm, ‘you must leave instantly. How the Scavengers discovered this location, I have no notion. They have achieved their goal, but it is likely that the pair I interrupted have unfinished business.’

    ‘You mean us?’ Melissa proposed calmly.

    Catch nodded. ‘Make your way to the next village. From there you have access to Tokyo. Remain there. Tomoko-san will find you, help you escape.’

    ‘But I don’t want to escape,’ I snapped. ‘I want to help Coral.’

    At the mention of his granddaughter’s name, the old Custodian’s eyes closed. ‘Sweet Coral,’ he breathed. ‘The ceremony. Could the sister’s help?’

    Melissa placed a finger to her lips, demanding my silence. ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘Coral had a difficult time, but she’s much better now.’

    ‘You have my eternal gratitude,’ Catch mouthed, as his breathing became laboured. His eyes flickered momentarily, his grip on our arms slackened, and he spoke no more.

    For some time we sat by the old man’s side. Everything had happened so quickly that I hadn’t even had time to mention the lock and discs. As far as I was aware no one really knew whom this guardian of history was. Certainly his origin and true age were a mystery. Nevertheless, it was humbling to think that this man, whose life had, in our presence, finally embarked on the next stage of its journey, could have walked with Arthur of Camelot, Gallileo, Gandhi and countless others who helped forge the world. For all those centuries he’d maintained the traditions and laws of his ancestors, acted as guide for new Collective members and their families, and been teacher to those requiring instruction. How indescribably cruel and heartless that fate, by way of reward for his tireless efforts, should destroy his family, his beliefs and finally his world.

    At that moment, I made an oath with myself and swore it to Melissa. ‘While there’s still breath left in me, nothing will stop me trying to save Coral, and although I know defeating the Scavengers may only be a dream, nothing will prevent me screwing the bastards over any chance I get.’

    Practical as ever, Melissa pointed out that my vendetta might be short-lived unless we followed Catch’s departing instructions and fled.

    Despite the wisdom of the advice, we took some time to arrange the Custodian and the sisters in positions of dignity, hoping that perhaps Tomoko-san and her family would later be able to perform the necessary funeral tasks. Finally, we packed a couple of bags with the essential elements of our belongings, uncertain of how easy the hike to the nearest village would be. As we were about to leave, however, I suddenly remembered Temple bear, and decided that since we needed all the help we could get he’d better come along.

* * * * * * * * * *

* * * * * * * * * *

    Perhaps due to the combination of a half-comfortable bed and fresh Takasaki air, for once, I slept quite well. As a result, we only just managed to be up, ready and packed by the time Mr Ga came plodding into the hotel lobby. The old man was a little perturbed at failing to make contact with Tomoko-san. Apparently, they’d agreed he would call her relatives the previous evening to see how things were going at the shrine and to provide an update on what we’d elected to do, and although the relatives were at home, they’d no news of her.

        As we drove away from the hotel, I started to fiddle with one of the discs. I tried the usual technical approaches such as banging it against hard surfaces, bending, twisting, and finally biting it, but suffice it to say, nothing happened. Loath to accept defeat, I persuaded Melissa to loan me several items from her collection of cosmetic paraphernalia, and again it seemed like another wasted effort until I tried to dig around the edges of the metal core with a nail file. After damaging both file and plastic, I managed to gain a little purchase, then, to my surprise, lever off what seemed to be a thin, protective cover.

    ‘Oh, very good,’ Melissa remarked sarcastically. ‘That’s probably screwed that up. Lucky we’ve got another one. Give it here. Men are all the same. Let them loose with a few tools and ten minutes later the TV’s in bits with no chance of putting the bloody thing back together again.’ For a few minutes Melissa examined my handiwork then tossed the disc into my lap. ‘Time for a detour,’ she remarked mysteriously.

    ‘What for? Where to?’ I insisted, somewhat miffed.

    ‘Back to the ‘boy-wonder’ priest, if possible,’ she replied. ‘If I’m not mistaken, the disc’s getting warm and there’s writing on the inside of the cover.’

    Mr Ga’s young friend didn’t seem surprised to see us. It was almost as if he’d expected something to happen that would precipitate the need for a second visit and recourse to his expertise. For about two hours Hiroyuki carefully scrutinised the disc plus displaced cover, performing a series of unfamiliar chemical and physical tests, jotting down copious notes as he went along. As far as I could tell all the results were negative, but when I tried to comment on this observation I was shushed into silence. Finally, the investigation was complete. The priest gently cleaned the specimen disc with a fine cloth, placed it in a silk pouch he conveniently had to hand, and returned it to Melissa.

    ‘An intriguing puzzle,’ he began. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you again, but I still have no real clue as to the true origin or function of the discs. If forced to speculate, however, I’d have to say, based on my analysis of the damaged disc’ – confirmation of which prompted Melissa to shoot me a withering glance – ‘that it is, at least in part, a power-cell of some description. Removal of the cover has activated the system, but to what purpose I am unable to say.’

    ‘What about the writing?’ Melissa enquired.

    ‘Ah, yes,’ came the considered response. ‘The text is definitely Aklendian, but in a style and form unfamiliar to me. I’m afraid I can decipher only the first three words.’

    ‘Which are?’ I interrupted eagerly.

    ‘Do not open,’ he replied flatly.

    ‘Oh, terrific! The men strike again,’ Melissa scoffed

    I could see that if I wanted to prevent Melissa drawing any unfortunate comparisons between her ex and me in the ineptitude stakes, I needed a quick recovery.

    ‘Well, at least it’s doing something now,’ I countered. ‘And who knows what “do not open” refers to. Could mean other parts of the disc. Let’s face it, the instruction is on the inside of the plate.’ With varying degrees of scepticism, my companions nodded their agreement, and for the moment I was off the hook.

    Since there was little else we could do, we decided to stick to our original plan and head for Mount Haruna. Hiroyuki seemed genuinely upset that he hadn’t been able to provide more help. Certainly more so than last time, I judged. He bade us be careful, then repeated an earlier recommendation that the damaged disc should be kept covered at all times and not handled unless absolutely necessary. As a parting gift, he promised to set aside a daruma for us and to paint in one of its eyes. When we next returned, he hoped we’d be able to fill in the other.

    So off we went, not really any the wiser and still without a shred of a plan. As the volcanic range that almost rings Takasaki loomed up before us, however, the weather suddenly and dramatically changed. The sun disappeared, clouds gathered, and the heavens opened. Torrential rain whipped by a freshening wind lashed the car with such force that even Mr Ga was finally forced to reduce speed. The old man seemed to believe that the flash storm was an appropriate cue to enrich our knowledge of this region of Honshu Island, which, according to him, was famous for three things: bad drivers; the highest incidence of road accidents in Japan; and tough women. He then made what I took to be a joke about women drivers, but it went straight over my head, and to be honest, that was probably the best place for it.

    Perhaps not unexpectedly, in light of recent experience, circumstances continued to deteriorate. We’d spent much longer than I’d realised at the Daruma shrine, and dusk was already beginning to tiptoe around the base of the mountains. On top of that, the car engine began to labour, and within a couple of miles of our destination we juddered to a standstill.

    ‘Excellent, now what does this remind me of?’ I murmured, picturing myself seated in the clapped-out Audi somewhere near Salford Quays. This time, however, I was prepared for anything. Coral was ill and the Scavengers couldn’t risk losing her. So, one way or the other, an attempt to raise the city had to be made soon. As far as I was concerned, unless we got Coral back tonight it would all be over bar the shouting.

    Before leaving the hotel, Melissa had the forethought to buy a small collection of outdoor items in case of emergency. Not much really: just a couple of pairs of plastic pants, gloves and a torch, but very welcome given the current weather conditions. Using these, together with a few items Mr Ga had stuffed into a small overnight bag, we togged ourselves up as best we could and prepared to hike the rest of the way. On my return flight to Japan I’d opted for a flimsy rucksack as my carry-on baggage, and one helluva good decision that turned out to be. Everyone’s miscellaneous junk, the torch – even Temple bear – could be squeezed into it, leaving our hands relatively free of clutter. Finally, I decided to add the discs in case they fell from my pocket. I positioned the first and was about to locate its damaged partner, when I had the distinct feeling it had become heavier.

    ‘What’s the matter?’ Melissa enquired, as I hesitated.

    ‘It’s the disc. It’s increased in weight, hasn’t it?’ I queried, handing it to her.

    She agreed, donned one of her gloves and removed it from the silk pouch.

    ‘Oh my God!’ we exclaimed in unison.

    Mr Ga anxiously swivelled around, startled by our outburst. ‘Problem?’ he croaked.

    ‘Well, only if you think the disc emitting a faint glow and humming is unusual,’ I said slowly. ‘Come on, there’s not a lot we can do about it,’ I continued, ‘and Coral’s waiting for us.’

    No one disagreed, so I replaced the disc in its cover and tucked it inside the rucksack.

    The rain thankfully eased a little as we made to set off, but the strong wind made conditions feel cold and distinctly miserable. Mr Ga rummaged in the boot, emerging with his sword slung across his back and the Uzi covered by its bag hanging from his shoulder.

    ‘Not taking any chances this time, then,’ I said light-heartedly.

    The old man giggled. ‘Ottaway-san very funny man. Ga say so before. It true.’

* * * * * * * * *

Copyright © Jonathan D. Lindley 1999

The author has asserted his moral right to be identified as the author of this work