Excerpt: Katana no Kokoro

“Chief? It’s Cuffey. Do you have a moment?”
The rustling stopped and then there was silence as if he was considering the answer. It stretched out so long that she was considering just barging in anyway when he grunted. She took that as a yes, or at least not a no, and pushed open the door. The chief was ex-Marine and though he had gotten a little jowly- he was pushing fifty-five- she could usually see it in his bearing. Whether sitting or standing, the chief acted like he had a metal bar instead of a spine. Which was why it surprised her to see him slouched over his desk, staring at a pile of papers spread out in front of him. There were stains on his dress shirt and his thinning brown hair hadn’t even been combed over.
“Are...are you okay, sir?” she asked. His head snapped up suddenly, making her jump. He stared at her without expression, his mouth hanging open. Was he drunk? Stoned? His lips moved as if he was struggling to find the words, then he said.
“You look interesting.” He spoke in a loud whisper. Her stomach tightened and she resisted the urge to back away. Maybe...maybe he’d gotten laryngitis on vacation. Maybe she just hadn’t heard him right.
“Pardon?” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. The last thing she wanted to freak out in front of him. He would never put her on another assignment again if she did. He jerked to his feet in a sharp movement then stood, swaying slightly back and forth, his hands hanging loose at his sides.
“You look interesting.” His head dropped, then rolled back and forth before finally snapping back up to look at her. He raised his hands in a smooth slow arc. “Don’t be afraid.”
Bernadette backed out of the office, shutting the door in front of her. She waited, holding her breath, listening for the sound of laughter or a disgusted sigh. Instead she heard footsteps shuffling slowly over the carpet.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered again. “bheerrrnaDette.”
She bolted, tearing down the hall as fast as she could, arm on fire, streaking with pain at every movement. The door slammed and a yelp tore out of her but she didn’t dare look around. She reached the stairs and flung open the door, not even bothering to close it behind her as she took the steps two at a time. The metal rang and crashed under her feet, echoing along the walls. She wanted to scream at it to shut up.
At the bottom of the steps she slowed, breathing heavily and ducked through the other door, slamming it behind her and leaning against it, breathing heavily. It was all right. It was all right. It was just a practical joke, right? Some sort of sick joke. Forget this. Forget it. She was going home to her son. The city could fall into hell for all she cared. She walked to the reception room, surprised she could still move her legs.
It was quiet and she expected it to be empty but as she turned the corner she saw it was still full of people, sitting, staring at nothing. Then, suddenly, everyone moved as one body, heads snapping to look at her, eyes wide, mouths gaping.
“What is wrong with you people?” she said, a scream on the edge of her voice. They rose as one, even the receptionists. She backed away, glancing toward the glass door. The handcuffed boys moved in front of it and began to lurch toward her. She backed away.
“Th...this isn’t funny!” she shrieked.
“bheernadDETTE.” The Chief’s voice echoed from the stairwell.
“bheernadette,” the mob whispered all at the same time, the same voice washing over in her a cold wave. They raised their hands, mouths stretching into a smiling grimace. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraaid.”
Bernadette turned to bolt back the way she had come but suddenly the mob was all around her, faster than she could blink, then she could suck in breath to scream. Hands grabbed her arms and she screamed and thrashed, screaming again as her shoulder tore. She kicked back, butted with her head but they didn’t seem to feel it. Janice melted out of the others, her mouth stretched wide, hands open.
“Don’t be afraid,” the woman whispered with the others. “It won’t hurrt. Mother is here.” Janice’s hands were around her throat, cold but not squeezing. Suddenly something jerked inside her and Bernadette gagged, feeling herself arch against it, it jerked again and again, like someone had hooked a finger in a mysterious strand at the back of her throat and was trying to pull it out. She gagged, head thrashing back, a jerk and another and something started to give filling her with bleak terror.
No. No I don’t want to die! She screamed to the void that was starting to fill her from the feet up. Josiah! Josiah!
She could see Janice in the dark, feel the cold hands, another pull, more give, slipping away. A well of a scream rose up, as if a hundred people were crying out all around her. Janice disappeared in a flash of black, but she could still feel the cold hands on her throat but soon they too left and she was falling…
And hit the floor hard. Bernadette sucked in air, wheezing, digging her fingers into the carpet. Yes, she could feel carpet and smell the dust and the grime and the stench of the homeless and blood but it was dark. Still dark. Her eyes were closed. Something grabbed her ankle and she wrenched her eyes open and saw one of the mob, clinging on to her, eyes wild as he screamed. He lurched, pulling her toward him, then abrubtly was pinned to the floor through the neck, thrashing as blood bubbled from his mouth. Bernadette saw a bloody sword and glanced along the blade to see Nijimaru, staring down at her, spattered with blood. Three others of the mob, including the chief rose up behind him, roaring. Bernadette screamed in a warning and she saw Nijimaru start to move and then before the scream had even died in her throat he was in a different position, two of the mob lying headless, the chief with a long gash across his chest where she could see the glint of bone.
“We can’t stay,” Nijimaru said, kneeling. “We have to leave, now. Forgive me.” And somehow she got from the floor to hanging over his shoulder, she clung to his shirt, wanting to fight, to scream, to cry, to kick the shit out of something. She saw Janice then, crumpled on he floor, her head a few feet away in a manic grin.
Then that to was gone and cold ripped over her as a sidewalk there flashed by and in a smooth motion the ground fell away and she screamed, digging her nails into back. A metallic crash that jarred through her and she saw the grate of a fire escape, then they were rising again and another metallic crash, and then the ground was white and hard and she’d just realized it was the grain of a roof before an alley yawned about eight stories down. She closed her eyes tightly, warmth pricking her eyes and dripping down her face and another kind of warmth sliding oozing itching trails down her shoulder.
The strange run seemed to go on forever. She would have thought she was either dead or dreaming except for the pain in her shoulder, the way his shoulder dug into her stomach and the cold, it was so damn cold. They seemed to be falling then and her stomach lurched up into her throat.
Then she heard the crunch of his feet against gravel, as if they were walking at a normal pace. A door opened and she opened her eyes, flailing a little in his grip as they entered an unfamiliar room. He made a gentle shushing sound as if he was quieting a baby and patted her legs gently. He knelt and she found herself being guided off his shoulder and helped to sit against the wall.
“We’ll be safe here for a little while,” Nijimaru said as he crouched in front of her. His face was drawn and pale but his eyes were alive, a pale glowing violet. He reached for her. Bernadette jerked back a little from him, not far because the wall blocked her. She was shivering so hard her teeth clicked together. He hesitated a moment, then pulled his hand back to rest on his knees.
“I know you’re frightened,” he said. “But your shoulder is bleeding. I have to look at it. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”