Читать книгу Chaos Descends - Shane Hegarty, Shane Hegarty - Страница 16

Kenzo the Japanese Half-Hunter rang the rusted doorbell on the house, hummed its cheery tune as he waited.

The letterbox opened, fingers propping it open from inside, and a man’s voice asked gruffly, “What?”

“Excuse me,” said Kenzo as politely as he could, and yet loud enough to speak over the rattle of his metal skirt as he stepped back. “Your sign says this is a bed and breakfast?”

“Go away,” said the man. “We’re shut. We’re always shut. And we’re especially shut now.”

Kenzo bent down level with the letterbox, and could see nothing but those splayed fingers and a single bloodshot eye. “I require only bed. No breakfast. In fact, a floor will do fine—”

A walking stick thrust through the letterbox, forcing Kenzo to retreat sharply. Its owner waggled it from side to side in a manner that was not likely to cause any damage, but still managed to very neatly get across the message that no Half-Hunters were wanted here. And, in case it didn’t, the man in the house shouted, “Shoo!” for extra effect.

Kenzo had spent what now felt like half a lifetime travelling to Darkmouth, and the other half wandering about the town. He had long wished that he would one day get to visit this, the only true Blighted Village left on Earth. It was not quite turning out how he had imagined.

He could ask the other Half-Hunters for help, but that would require, well, asking for help. And he didn’t like to do that. A true Legend Hunter should not require assistance. They must be self-sufficient. Quick-witted. And, every now and again, a bit uncomfortable wherever they lay their head.

So, Kenzo left, deciding to make his way towards where the houses crowded in on the rocky beach. He heard voices ahead of him in the fading light. A boy. Then a girl. She was laughing, and he could make out two small figures breaking into a sprint up a laneway that led back to the main street of Darkmouth.

Away up the strand, he could see the scaffold being set up for the Completion Ceremony, what would be a stage for the big event. Even now, as it grew late, there was life, lights, busy Half-Hunters, tasked with setting up the platform, preparing to work through the night. Shivering as the chilly breeze moved across the stones, Kenzo saw the skeleton of an old boat, upturned and washed up on the beach, its hull rotten but holding on to enough wood to offer some shelter for the night.

The crescent of the moon had been blanketed by cloud. There was a flicker of lightning. No thunder followed.

The wreck’s hull had rotted away so that it looked like a giant’s ribcage half buried in the beach. Kenzo stooped to enter it, then smoothed out the shingle at his feet, pulled the coat from his shoulders and placed it across the flattened spot. He lay down. Kenzo would stay here tonight. It was not perfect, but he was always one to keep his spirits up. He would treat this as an adventure. It was the best he could do.

Something stirred in his bag. Kenzo sat upright and undid its rope to reach in with both hands. He gently removed a white rabbit, and immediately began snuggling at its soft neck with his nose, shushing it to keep it calm. He took a head of lettuce from his pocket and let the rabbit eat it while it sat on his chest.

“Good Nibbles,” Kenzo said. “Nice Nibbles.” His fluffy pal was the big star of his magic tricks at children’s parties.

There was the scrunch of stone. Something was moving around the wreck.

“Hello?” he said. “Who is there?”

The stones scrunched again, footsteps forcing the beach aside.

“Hello?”

A presence moved in front of him, darkening the decaying wreck, disappearing again. Kenzo leaped to his feet, sending the rabbit hopping to the ground while he scrabbled for his sword, which was wooden because no parent wants a real samurai sword at a kids’ party.

“Come out and show yourself.”

The shadow moved behind him. He turned and arced the sword until it quivered at the nose of his stalker.

A little boy gasped, his eyes wide with shock and fear. Behind him, two other kids gasped with fright.

Kenzo exhaled, withdrew the weapon.

“You must stop following me,” he said, but the children were already running away, scrambling across the stony beach, carried by the fright of nearly losing a nose.

A little stunned, Kenzo watched them leave, shaking his head in bemusement before returning to his temporary bed, where Nibbles was already resting.

Scrunch.

Kenzo sighed, tired of these intrusions.

Scccrunch.

“Please, children,” he muttered, “I must get my rest.”

Kenzo stood again, but this time found himself under a tall shadow. The shadow of a shadow. A shifting shape that emerged from the air, pulled from a scream, the edges coalescing in a swirl. Its hair was like thin snakes writhing from its head, the eyes pinwheels of red, and the distorted mouth carrying a malevolence that could cut a person in two.

Kenzo swung his sword at the intruder, catching it in the side. But the ghost’s molecules moved away, letting the blunt blade pass through.

The phantom reached out, touched Kenzo’s chest.

The last thing Kenzo saw before he disappeared was the very person he had come to Darkmouth to celebrate. It was Finn. Approaching the wreck.

Their eyes met.

Then Kenzo was full of stars.