Raiju: A Kaiju Hunter Novel (The Kaiju Hunter) (20 page)

Dr. Mura stumbled back from his daughter’s body as if he did not recognize it, his eyes going everywhere at once.

I was on my feet, though I didn’t remember doing that. I wanted to take a step back myself, I wanted to run away, truth be told, but the cracks in the ground were surrounding us and quickly widening as sudden, lightning-fast black tendrils began snaking out. I watched, wide-eyed, as they wound their way across the ground, toward Aimi’s body.

Qilin was here.

 

 

 

 

 

C H A P T E R F I V E

 

Burnin’ For You

 

 

 

 

1

 

I cringed as Qilin rose screaming over us.

I looked over at Dr. Mura, but he was frozen in place, eyes closed, lips moving in a silent prayer as Qilin’s appendages burst from the cracks in the street and surrounded us all like a wildwoods gone berserk. Qilin must have threaded himself through the entire sewer system, I thought. He was
everywhere.

Tendrils snaked across the broken asphalt of the street and began winding around Aimi’s body as if to embalm it. The whole street shook under the maniacal screams of the monster, making me stumble drunkenly in the gutter as I watched her body as it was dragged relentlessly across the asphalt and absorbed into Qilin’s black stinking self-substance.

And the worst part was, there was absolutely nothing I could do. I couldn’t fight something like that, and if I called Raiju, the two Kami would turn this city into a smoking warzone. So I shifted away from the cracks and the coiling snakes with massive, flytrap heads, hissing and seeking.

The daylight dimmed and nearly went out as the tangled tentacles arched over us. I heard the sudden screams of Dr. Mura’s men, and the futile, coughing sounds of their guns, then the men’s cries were truncated as the great black podlike heads bloomed into teeth and appetite and began swallowing his men whole. Pushing past his subordinates being plucked up into the garden of hungry mouths like bits of ripe fruit, Dr. Mura made a break for one of the limos parked cattycorner to the gutter. He had just managed to rev the engine and hit the accelerator when the largest pod of all came smashing down atop the hood of the car, shattering all the windows.

I lurched, shuddering at the sight.

Somewhere in the shining darkness that followed I thought I heard Aimi scream, the sound merging with Qilin’s subhuman shriek of victory.

 

2

 

There was no definite form to Qilin; he was like a giant inkblot or an amoeba with blood red eyes punched into a vague, bulbous head, and a few random tentacles sticking out of different, pulsating parts of his body. He couldn’t seem to decide what form he wanted to take, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t last. He warbled at me, shaking and sloughing off more caustic fluid. Laughing at me. Teasing me.

I had to remind myself that this was a Kami. A god. A very pissed-off god, corrupted by a pretty horrible man, and now masterless. I couldn’t really think of a better recipe for disaster than this.

Aimi, I thought as tears blurred my vision.

On the pavement lay the broken necklace and razorblade she had used to mutilate herself on so many occasions. I wondered if she was still alive, and, if so, how much control she had over Qilin since becoming one with her god. I wondered if it was even fair to hope she was alive.

I scrambled back a few more steps across the burning asphalt, finally hitting the grill of an overturned cab. I couldn’t possibly outrun Qilin, and since Raiju was his mortal enemy, I figured talking this over was pretty much out of the question. With my eyes riveted to the red, burning eyes set in the misshapen head, I edged slowly behind the vehicle, using it as a shield as the monster towered over me.

Qilin jerked spastically like a puppet on strings. Its gurgling edged up a notch, becoming a full-bellied roar of rage and frustration. One of its tentacles darted out like a hand swatting a fly, and the cab was suddenly gone—simply flipped out of the way as if it were made of feathers. The vehicle flew a hundred feet in the air, turning end over end before crashing down in the middle of afternoon traffic.

I flinched, fully exposed now. Chaos was erupting on the street, cars plowing into one another and tangling like ropes made of metal as they screeched to a halt around the cab burning like a bonfire in the middle of the street. Some even slowed to ogle the gigantic monster filling the street. It laughed at them, its attention briefly diverted by the fiery destruction it had wrought.

A part of me wanted to stay, to try and help Aimi somehow, but good sense prevailed—I was probably more my dad’s son than I suspected—and I made a break for it in that moment, taking off down the street. Qilin noticed, of course. He was just a little too obsessed with me not to. I heard a rumble as he started after me, and the whole street rocked like a boat.

I am never going to make it!
I thought. I was running full tilt, scampering over debris, my lungs on fire, and still I could feel the cold evil wave of the monster behind me, trying to wash over me, to take me. I had just reached an intersection when a black van careened into view, stripping its gears as the driver downshifted in a hurry. I didn’t recognize it at first. I just darted to one side to avoid colliding with it, but it suddenly spun sideways, kicking asphalt up into my face.

The palms of my hands hit the passenger side door with a resounding
thunk
. Qilin roared at my back like a hurricane bearing down on me. I didn’t think; I wouldn’t have cared if the driver was a traveling psychopath, I wrenched the door open.

Snowman sat on the driver’s side, his eyes fixed on the monster looming behind me. I couldn’t look. I didn’t ask how or why, I didn’t question this miracle at all. I just jumped in the van and pulled the door closed.


Drive!” I shouted at him.

He sat stunned, his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, eyes staring off into space as if he was still trying to digest the sight of Qilin, however brief it had been. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down once as he swallowed.


Drive, dammit!” I said again, smacking him in the shoulder to wake him up.

Trembling, his right hand fell on the gearshift as he shifted from neutral into drive. “Ssshit,” he hissed. Then he drove like a bat out of hell.

 

 

3

 

I leaned forward in my seat and bent my head between my knees to catch my breath as we jounced along the debris-laden road. I felt sore in places I didn’t even know I
had
, as if my whole body had been turned inside out. Just beyond the walls of the van I could hear the world going to hell.


What the
fuck
is that
thing
?” Snowman screamed.

I could tell he was on the verge of hysterics. Hell, I was halfway there myself.

When I could breathe again I lolled back in my seat and peered out the rearview mirror. About a thousand feet behind us, Qilin was slowly reshaping itself into a giant crude humanlike form, swinging its massive head from side to side as it searched furtively for me, throwing off corrosive black spatters that sizzled on the asphalt and burned vehicles down to their axles. But for the moment, at least, it looked like I had given him the slip.


Qilin,” I said after a moment. I heard sirens in the distance. Police, ambulances, fire trucks that could do nothing about the monster pacing around downtown Brooklyn. If anything, the cacophony seemed to aggravate the beast. It lifted its gigantic fists and screamed to the sky like a petulant child having a temper tantrum, then slammed those fists down into a nearby building, smashing it like a toy.

I flinched. As we drove, I saw chaos erupting everywhere. People were abandoning their vehicles in the street and taking off on foot, carrying children, pets and possessions, whatever they could take. We were too far from the center of activity to see anything now, but Snowman had a TV set up in the back of the van. As he drove, I squirmed into the backseat and flipped it on, changing the station with the remote until I found KTV. True to form, a reporter was on the action, recording it from a news chopper overhead. Qilin was kicking at a line of parked cars in frustration, sending them clanking over into the street. A gas tank went off, igniting another—and another. In seconds, a mushroom cloud of orange fire burst heavenward like a bomb.

I gaped at the tidal wave of flames eating into the street and consuming the overturned vehicles. I felt like I was witnessing the end of the world. A fog of black smoke consumed the whole block, and I wondered what I could do…what anyone could do. If Aimi didn’t take back control, we would all die, the city buried under millions of pounds of cooling black cinders.

We rode in silence for maybe ten minutes when Snowman finally pulled into an abandoned underground parking garage. We were somewhere in Midtown, the business district, by my estimation. I slowly slid open the van door, and immediately spotted Michelle and Rex waiting for us. That surprised me more than a little. Michelle had a seriously cool bike with her—her sporty new VTX Interceptor, the one I had helped her upgrade—but for the moment I was too shaken to appreciate much of anything.

I tried to say something as I climbed out of the van, but my voice stuck in my throat for a moment. Finally I managed to get out, “What are all you doing here?” Except that it came out sounding like a drunken moan, like I was in pain.

The driver’s side door slammed shut. “Saving your ass, obviously,” Snowman growled. It was good to know he wasn’t panicking anymore and was back in Kevin-kicking mode. I think. Even out of makeup, dressed in a normal college hoodie and blue jeans, he managed to look and sound like a punk and piss me off. He swaggered toward me, his eyes keen. “What in
hell
is going on?” he said, throwing his hands up. “And where’s Aimi?”


That
was
Aimi,” I said.

He looked, as usual, like he wanted to slap me.

Before I could elaborate, Rex climbed into the backseat of the van, his bulk pushing me aside, his eyes fixed on the TV. “Oh man, this is so not cool, man,” he said nervously. Under his patch jacket he was wearing a
Jurassic Park
T-shirt with the iconic Rex emblazoned on the front. Its jaws jiggled up and down as he trembled. I had created a monster, obviously. “Shell, Mamma and Daddy are
so
going to have a cow, and it’s all Snow’s fault.”


Nobody said you had to come along, chubs,” Snowman said, and Rex gave him a puckered-out look, like he had a dinner plate in his lower lip.

My head was swimming. I wondered if I would pass out, if that wouldn’t be for the best. I slid down to the cold concrete, hoping the chill of the underground parking garage would prevent me from either blacking out or throwing up all over myself—I didn’t need the embarrassment of either right then. Slowly everyone gathered around me, which didn’t help at all.


Is he okay?” Michelle asked, leaning forward, her hands on her knees, sounding concerned.


He’ll be fine,” Snowman answered.

Unfortunately, in that moment, my stomach decided to revolt and I heaved up the meager contents of my stomach…right over the feet of the person nearest to me, who just happened to be Snowman. Let me just say, I got his Doc Martens good.


Jesus!” he barked, dancing back a step. “He’s such a wimp!”


He’s not a wimp!” Michelle said, waving her arms at him dismissively.
“Baboso!”


You
so
didn’t just call me a drooling idiot!”

Everyone started bickering while I threw up one more time just for good measure. Rex, at least, had the presence of mind to get me a paper towel. I wiped my mouth, interrupting them all by saying, “What are you guys
doing
here? Aren’t you supposed to be running like everyone else?” I sounded more annoyed than I felt. Truth was, I don’t know
what
I would have done if Snowman hadn’t been there to pull my fat from the fire—literally.

No, that wasn’t true. I know what would have happened. I would have made a very nice flame-broiled Kevin Burger.

Snowman dug into a pocket of his hoodie for some unfiltered smokes I was pretty sure he was too underaged to have. “Yeah, well, I’m not the running type,” he said, pulling one out of a pack with his teeth. I think they were cloves, but just then, my mouth was watering. I would have smoked anything to get rid of the pukey taste in my mouth.


But how did you know where I was?”


I followed the monster,” Snowman said, and everyone gave him their undivided attention. He leaned back against a column and took a long drag on his cigarette, enjoying the spotlight, as usual. “My dad’s a Sergeant Major in the U.S. Army,” he said. “He can be a real asshole, but being an army brat gets me all kinds of bennies, believe me.”


Like hotwiring cars?” I said.

He gave me his patented brusque-and-annoyed look. If he could have packaged it and sold it, he’d have been a millionaire overnight, believe me. “I’ve been using my dad’s scanner to track Qilin. I’ve had to since you
dumped
me on the phone.” His eyes burned accusingly at me.

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