Radioactive (Hisao) - part 4

The sun is beginning to break over the horizon as I finally step onto the grounds of what used to be Yamaku Academy. The student population has long since spread out among the 30 kilometer quarantine zone, but the different buildings are still the turf of various groups and factions. The girls' dormitory is surrounded by barbed wire, I can hear cheering, among other noises, coming from the lobby. Supposedly, Enomoto runs something between a brothel and a fight club out of the first floor. But that's not why I'm here today.

Yamaku was closer to the blast than anything else, the entire back half of the school is gone, there's nothing left.

Well.

I guess I'm still here.

The courtyards are pockmarked by craters and still littered with debris, human or otherwise. There might be a few brave souls who still venture into the auxiliary building looking for supplies, but the handful of heads set out on spikes around the entrance, right next to the scrawled promise to do no harm, is more than enough deterrent for most. The nurse didn't take losing his favorite student very well, and doesn't practice anything close to medicine anymore.

Carefully making my way through the grounds towards the central building, I can already see the zombies. They shamble around, some are eerily silent, some are mumbling or reciting things. Study guides, recipes, what used to be my English teacher is even muttering old war poems. He, it, I don't know, doesn't seem to be interested in doing much else, all tangled up in the barbed wire fence like that.

Although some of the buildings still seem to have power, the front lobby is dark and dilapidated as I enter through the doors. This is where Mutou stood waiting for me, what feels like a long, long time ago. I never saw him, after the blast. Maybe he figured it out, maybe he knew what had caused it and that he had played even an unwitting hand in the death of so many. Just another thing to keep me up at night.

Something darts through the shadows as I take a few steps in, I level my rifle but it's gone. I have a flashlight I could pull out, but my night vision is actually pretty good these days, another side effect. The safety is already off this time, I keep my weapon trained on the halls in front of me as I head towards the stairs. I would say something about how things are going well so far, but that always has a habit of making the shit hit the fan even faster.

The hallways of the first floor are still a mess. Books, even desks and chairs are everywhere. The first years were probably the ones that had it the hardest, being younger and weaker. I'm sure some made it, though. The military even let a few leave, at first. Before they got better screening methods for mutation and contamination. Then they clamped down hard. Now, nobody leaves, and the only ones to come in are soldiers, scientists guarded by soldiers, or pirates and robbers who bribe or sneak their way past the cordons.

Memories begin to bubble up as I reach the second floor, as I walk past the tea room. Barring the occasional, ominous noises coming from inside some of the rooms, the building is eerily quiet. Well, the noises are eerie too, I guess. Fine, the whole place is eerie, and the sooner I get this over with, the better.

Light. One light, tiny pinprick, red, get the fuck dow--

The sound of the gunshot splits my ears after so much quiet, I dive for the nearest classroom, one hand shielding my head. Back check, room clear, barring that big, red mess in the corner that I don't want to look at too closely right now.

“That was a warning shot!” A voice croaks from the hall.

“You're a fucking liar!” I call back. And a damn poor shot at that.

“The second floor is ours!” Someone else shouts. That makes at least two, muffled voices, masks.

“You're gonna want to get out of my way.” I reply, reaching for a grenade.

“...Now.” One of them says quietly. Two guns erupt, I watch bullets tear into the floor outside the room, but the idiots aren't even aiming near me. Still, I shield my ears against the racket, it drowns everything else out. What the hell are they--

As the din begins to fade, I can hear another sound, this one the breaking of glass.

I whirl around but something's already in the room with me, a dark brown blur is moving left and right, I reach for my knife but something, someone rushes forward, a head cracks against mine. I'm seeing stars and, when they fade, a wide grin as a familiar face is suddenly right in front of mine.

“Sup.” The girl in front of me breathes, eying me up.

“Hey, Miki. Looking good.” I grunt, reaching to rub my forehead with one hand while I aim my gun with the--

“I wouldn't do that, Hisao.” Her right hand--well, her only hand, grips my rifle, pointing it away teasingly, while she brings her other wrist up towards my face. I wince harder at the sight than I had at the headbutt.

Miki's left arm resembles an open wound, the blunted flesh stripped away to reveal a jutting, sharpened bone that she wields like a knife. She slowly traces it over my neck, still peering at me coyly.

“That looks like it hurts.” I mutter. She smiles sadly, the girl I used to know emerging for only a flicker of an instant before her eyes regain that wild, predatory look.

“Oh, believe me.” She licks her lips. “It hurts you only a little bit more than it hurts me.”

“You got him, Miki?” One of the voices calls from the hallway.

“Oh, I got him all--” She takes her eyes away from me for only a moment, but that's a big enough mistake to exploit. I push off from the wall with my shoulders, choosing to be the one doing the headbutting this time. Miki gasps in something between pain and delight and stumbles backward.

“Oh, you fucking gaylo--”

“I don't have time, Miki.” I'm already drawing my combat knife, but she comes at me again. She's wearing a lean, form-fitting bodysuit and no mask, but I can see that the poisoned environment has already had its effect on her. Her body was always toned and sleek, but now she moves like a goddamn gust of wind, sprinting from spot to spot and twisting in kicks that smash clean through the wall. I can hear footsteps running our way and know that I can't afford to play with her any longer, lovely as she might be.

“I don't know what brings you back here Hisao, but you're not getting any closer.” Miki shouts, slashing at me with her arm.

I choose to postpone coming up with a response, unclipping a grenade from my belt and tossing it towards the door, just as two armored figures arrive. One swears and dives back into the hallway, but the other is a little slower. Miki glances over at him, eyes wide.

“Akio you moron, mo--”

Bits of exosuit and osteoporosis--I think?--afflicted  youth shower us for a moment and the floor shakes, Miki lets out a cry of rage.

“GodDAMNIT Hisao look what you've done!” She screams, pulling back her sharpened stump as if to charge me with it.

“I saw, I saw.” I level my rifle at her, but the ground is suddenly shaking again, and not from an explosion this time. Miki takes quick steps back towards the windows, managing to pull herself outside with her heightened dexterity.

“Taro will set you straight.” She mutters, giving me a look that says everything could have been cool if I hadn't just blown up a friend of hers.

The rumbles are getting louder. This room is small and cramped, I edge my head into the hallway and see no trace of the other guard. I can hear a faint crashing now, something that sounds like it might be a roar, almost like that of an engine. I'm running, bolting towards the library. Large, open space, room to dodge, maybe even space to set up an ambush if I have time.

A zombie is stumbling through the door ahead of me, I put a bullet between its eyes without even stopping and slam past as it falls, entering the ruins of Yamaku's library.

The lights are out here too, but what looks like billions of dust particles are drifting through the beams of sun that pour from the windows. Many of the wide, spacious aisles are tipped over, books and pages are everywhere. And that rumbling still hasn't let up. I take long, fast strides across the carpet, turning around to see the door behind me explode.

Dust and plaster rain down on the hulking figure that emerges, Taro looks like he's seen better days. His previously useless arm is just a dull stump, blackened with flaky blood that has long since dried. By contrast, the rest of him is absolutely massive, bulging with muscles. If he had a neck before, he doesn't now, and his good arm resembles a number of sledgehammers taped together. Except it's not, it's one big fucking angry fist and it's headed right this wa--

I roll to the side, coming up and letting loose with my rifle. Taro shrugs off the bullets as if they were sports officials wanting to test him for steroids. He grunts, a sound like a locomotive hissing as he plows through the wreckage to close the distance between us again. In the corner of my eye I see Miki crash through one of the windows near the ceiling, climbing down to sit on top of one of the remaining bookcases. She watches with dull curiosity as I do everything I can to keep space between me and the massive mutant intent on ripping my head off. This isn't so hard, though. He's fast when he charges and damn does he look strong, but he's slow the rest of the time, as long as I keep backing up I should be able to put him down, I should be just fine.

A loud blare rings out as somewhere, a gun opens up. I feel the bullets tear through my shoulder, before the thought that I've been hit even registers, a massive hand is curling around my chest. Taro throws his newfound prize, namely me, across the room, and a strangled cry escapes my mouth as I smash through several empty shelves before hitting one that's still full enough to stop me.

I blink up at the ceiling. My back is swearing at me, everything is fine equals shit hitting the fan, remember, asshole? Even as the blood seeps from the wounds on my shoulder, a foot is stepping on my chest. A figure dressed in heavy gear and a thick gas mask looks down on me, just from his eyes I can tell he's sneering.

“You came to the wrong literature club, motherfucker.” Lezard taunts. In a moment, Miki appears next to him, studying me through narrowed eyes. A few loud footsteps later, another massive form appears at Lezard's other side.

“Taro isn't even in the literature club.” I mutter, struggling to get my breathing under control. Blood loss, shock, all bullshit words that are going to be more than that very soon if I can't catch a moment to get to my inside pocket.

“Honorary member.” Lezard reaches back to pat his hulking companion affectionately. Even though his eyes show nothing nearing intelligence anymore, Taro still scowls at him. Then Miki does the same thing as Lezard and Taro gets a big, stupid grin on his face.

“Hisao, what do you want? Why are you here? Did the Council send you?” Miki asks, turning back to me. But Lezard brandishes his gun.

“Fuck that, Akio's meat because of him. We're returning the favor.”

Need my pills. I need my pills.

“We can make him meat as soon as we figure out what he's doing here, Lezard.”

“Meat.”

“That's right, Taro.” Miki gives her companion a strained smile for a moment before looking back at me. “Start talking, Hisao. Please.”

“Now.” She tries to force another predatory grin, but doesn't seem to have the heart for it. I look into those amethyst eyes for a moment, remembering the times me and Emi had managed to corral her into running with us. And back then, sitting in the grass next to the track was always...

I glance over to my left. There it is. The door to the literature club room. I'm so close. I just need my goddamn pills, and then I can do this.

“Two days ago,” I begin, looking back at them. With every ounce of subtlety I can muster, my free hand slowly creeps inside my jacket, reaching for the first bottle I can find. “the Council sent me to--”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Lezard shouts, aiming the barrel of his gun directly at my chest. “Do we look blind to you?”

Guess I wasn't sneaky enough. Maybe I should have let Shizune teach me a few lessons on subtlety, like she was always offering. Even though I could guess what she really wanted.

“Lezard, hold on for--”

“Meat.”

“Yes, Taro.” Lezard mutters, sneering at me again through his gas mask. “Meat.”

He puts the gun against my ribcage, and then he pulls the trigger.