…trying to kill me!
As if the pause on a frozen video image had been suddenly released, Toshinori moved, swung his belt up, and attacked her. The large buckle sparkled in the moonlight. It could easily gouge out some flesh on impact. The distance between them was only four meters.
Enough.
Hirono’s right hand went for her gun. She felt the grip, by now a familiar sensation.
Toshinori was right in front of her. She fired. She fired three times in a row.
All the shots landed in his stomach. She saw his school coat instantaneously rip apart.
Toshinori spun around and fell face forward. Dust flew up into the air and he remained motionless.
Hirono tucked the revolver into her skirt again. The hot barrel burned against her stomach, but she couldn’t be concerned about that. Right now the important thing was water.
She picked up her day pack and entered the house. She’d been foolish exposing her back to the house, but now she no longer had to make sure it was unoccupied. And she could drink Toshinori’s water.
She deliberated over whether to use her flashlight, but Toshinori’s day pack turned out to be located right behind the back door. Hirono crouched down and opened the zipper with her right hand.
There were water bottles. One of them hadn’t been opened and the other was still half full. She felt a wave of relief.
Still on her knees, Hirono opened the lid of the half filled bottle and pressed her lips against it, sucking on it as she tilted the bottle back. Hmm. Was this an indirect kiss with the boy who had tried to kill her—who was, on top of that, dead? Didn’t matter. Concerns like that were now as remote as the tropics or the north pole. Or the moon. This is Armstrong. One small step for a man…
She guzzled the water down. It was delicious. No doubt about that. Water never tasted this good. Even though the water was lukewarm, as it gushed down her throat and into her stomach it felt like ice water. It was so good.
She emptied the bottle almost immediately. She took a deep breath.
Something wrapped around her throat. Right above the metal collar. She went into a coughing fit and a mist of water sprayed out between her lips.
As she struggled with her functioning right hand to free herself from the object digging in under her throat, she twisted her head around. Immediately to the right of her face she saw the boy’s tense face… which belonged to Toshinori Oda, the boy who just died!
Her throat was getting choked. It took her several seconds to realize what was wrapped around her neck. It was Toshinori’s belt.
How how how how could this guy be alive?
The dark interior of the house was fading into red. She tried to pry the belt loose with her right hand as her fingernails tore off. Blood dripped out of her fingers.
That’s right, my gun.
Hirono reached for her gun tucked in the front of her skirt.
But her arm was kicked by the foot of an expensive leather shoe, making a cracking sound. Along with her left arm, her right one went numb too. The belt slackened for a moment—but then it tightened again. She couldn’t hold the belt anymore and instead she swung her twisted arm around in a bizarre looking manner.
It was only a matter of seconds. Her arm hung limply. Although she wasn’t in the same rank as Takako Chigusa or Mitsuko Souma, she was still quite attractive and she had the appealing, mature look of a high school or college student. But now her face was puffed up from blood congestion, and her tongue was now twice its normal size and hung out from the middle of her mouth.
Nonetheless, Toshinori Oda continued choking Hirono’s throat. (Of course he didn’t forget to check around occasionally.)
After five minutes or so, Toshinori finally released the belt from Hirono’s neck. The breathless Hirono fell forward onto the raised floor. There was a muffled cracking sound. Maybe part of Hirono’s face had cracked. Her punkish hair that stood straight up was now going in all directions and fading into the darkness. The nape of her neck above the collar of her sailor suit and her left arm with the torn sleeve were the only parts glimmering white.
Toshinori Oda breathed heavily for a while as he stood still in a daze. His stomach was still in pain, but it wasn’t too bad now. When he first opened his day pack he had no idea what this cumbersome strange gray vest was, but it did exactly what the manual said it would. Amazing what a bulletproof vest can do.
47
The area was pitch black by now, but thanks to the nearly full moon, the cliff extending from the foot of the northern mountain offered a wide open view of the ocean. The Seto Inland Sea Islands floated in the black sea, but there were absolutely no ship lights nearby due to the governments prohibition on traffic in the area. The guard ships were also out of sight, probably because they were moored with their lights off.
He’d seen this view before, but from a lower position, when he left the school building. Of course, this was neither the time nor place to call it a nice view.
“All right then, over here,” Shinji said. He tucked his gun into his belt, and was the first to climb up on the rock. Then he offered his hand to Yutaka. Yutaka was out of breath due to the climb up the mountain as well as from the looming threat of being attacked in the dark, but he managed to grip onto Shinji’s hand and struggled up the rock.
They stayed flat on their stomachs and looked down the cliff.
The blackened rows of woods spread out beneath them, and further beyond there was a glimmer of light. It came from the school building where Sakamochi was. It hardly emitted any light because the windows had been sealed off with those steel sheets. It was approximately one hundred meters away. The school’s sector, G-7, was already forbidden, so they’d immediately get killed if they entered it, but they were a safe distance away now. By using cross-bearing navigation with his compass and map before the sun went down, Shinji managed to figure out precisely the zone layout. The school, in sector G-7, was nearer the border of F-7, where Shinji and Yutaka were now, and according to the map the shortest distance to the border was approximately eighty meters. Furthermore, with the 6 p.m. announcement of forbidden zones, neither F-7 nor H-7, which surrounded the school, were included.
This reminded him of Sakamochi’s announcement that Sho Tsukioka had gotten caught in a forbidden zone. He was an annoying, queer kid (“Shinji, let’s go out on a date”), and right now Shinji really couldn’t be bothered by others, but he felt a little sorry for Sho whose head had probably been blown off by a bomb. He wondered where it happened.
He also felt a pang of remorse over the death of Takako Chigusa. She was the prettiest girl in the class (according to Shinji’s taste, anyway), and what’s more, she was childhood friends with Hiroki Sugimura. Contrary to what most of the class thought—that they were a couple—Hiroki and Takako weren’t going out (Hiroki himself told Shinji). Still, it must have come as a shock to Hiroki.
Hiroki—where the hell are you?
Shinji decided to concentrate on the present. He observed the school below and its surrounding geography closely. They would have to stretch a rope from here, over the school, and then over to the other side of the zone. Now that he actually had a view of the area, he realized how much distance they’d have to cover.
Gazing at the gentle light leaking out the steel-plated windows, Shinji thought, damn. That was where Sakamochi and his men were. It was dinner time. For all he knew they could be eating fried udon. (He thought of fried udon because it was his favorite ever since his uncle made it several times for him when he had him over at his small single-bedroom house and that was what Shinji wanted so badly to eat right now.) Bastards.