The Kenji Files Dark Garden Part 1 - Darktide

The Kenji Files:
Dark Garden Part 1
Darktide

Soaked with perspiration, the suit-jacket rubbed against her sides and her arms – and some more sensitive areas. The polyester coat was slowly stripping away her sanity, chaffing against her skin wherever it touched, but, being the only piece of clothing left in the abandoned shed where she awoke, Emi had taken it unquestioningly. Beginning to regret her concern for modesty, the desire to retain some dignity was overriding the need to be free from its torturous grip, but she was close to going native.

In the back of her mind, she realized the sight of a naked, legless woman crawling through the woods might be too much for a hiker, if any should happen to find her, but it almost seemed worth the risk. Maybe they would have extra clothes to let her borrow; or they might have a history of sociopathy and a knife. Reconciled with the streak of terrible luck she'd been having of late, the latter seemed more likely.

This was Kenji's fault.

Her poplar-green eyes flicked around, following the random noises coming from the darkened woods, and she secretly wished he were there so she could throw him at whatever beast seemed to be stalking nearby. Kenji Setou was an impossible man to get along with, but he was her assignment; straight from the top of the organization. Well, maybe not assignment so much as punishment. Emi growled at the dark and let out a frustrated sigh as another twig dug into her hip - always in the same place it seemed.

Biting back the groan, having no desire to make her position any easier for some ferocious beast to follow, she gritted her teeth and rolled over to check for blood. Brushing pine needles from her sweat-covered hip, she found no skin breaks, but the image of blood in her mind conjured a fantasy about the bloody mess she planned to make of Kenji's stupid face. Even without her legs, she could probably wrestle him to the ground and pummel him to death; assuming he wasn't already dead.

Of course, this wasn't her first time working with the bespectacled, frustratingly obtuse and potentially insane Agent Kenji Setou. They had a long and colorful, on again, off again relationship that went as far back as her Academy days. A professional relationship, not a romantic one, mind you. Back then he was about twenty times more volatile and hopelessly reclusive, but at least he hadn't become a thorn in her side quite yet. Fate, it seemed, had a nasty way of bringing people together, and set them to meet in University.

Having calmed a bit by then, he even managed a narrow social life, but Emi didn't actually come into contact with him until they both took a Psychology course. They recognized each other and gravitated toward the familiarity of a former classmate. Having only met a few times in their three years at Yamaku, she didn't know Kenji personally, but she had heard plenty of stories from Hisao about Kenji's antics. He had mellowed enough by then to be capable of an interesting conversation without peppering his speech with accusations and rhetoric.

He was fun to talk to back then – witty even.

Seeing him again right now, though, she would probably break his giant coke-bottle glasses and use the shards to stab him to death – starting with his spleen. Kenji's spleen could sense danger, he often claimed, and told him when a case file was worth investigating; and it got them both in trouble - a lot. As a rule, If Kenji suggested it, they were probably going to get in trouble. That's why he led them up to this God-forsaken backwoods establishment, and it's why he insisted they check around without calling in their position.

His spleen only had about a fifty percent success rate when it came to predicting the future, which seemed to her like the same level of accuracy anyone else had at foretelling events. Perhaps he just misinterprets his spleen's warning against doing stupid things, but to hear him talk about it, you'd think he inherited a sixth sense. Whatever the case, listening to Kenji's diatribes was almost worse than agreeing to go along - almost; it's a close call every time.

Whoever grabbed them both and stuffed chloroform in their faces, they weren't kind enough to leave a note explaining their reasons. Whatever platitudes may have been in their kidnapper note, Emi figured they probably weren't completely saccharine, and likely would have resulted in their quick fatalities had their identification not been discovered – and stolen. Emi wasn't looking forward to explaining how they managed to get in this situation, assuming they made it back alive, but the details were hazy even with her head clear - relatively clear.

“Some expert secret agent I am,” Emi spat as she rolled over to start crawling again.

Waking up drugged, naked, and tied to a chair in the pitch dark was not the best way to start the night; at least not when it wasn't intentional. They had apparently strip-searched her, and probably Kenji, taking their guns, identification, and even her prosthetic legs, before carting them off to God-knows where for whatever sinister purpose they had planned. Quietly laughing, Emi wondered how desperate an outfit they were, considering their willingness to steal a cripple's legs. Leaving her in that shed, apparently deciding she couldn't escape without her legs, she managed to roll out of the chair and slip right out of the ropes - it was almost too easy.

Noticing the forest noises seemed to be growing nearer, Emi quietly berated herself for grunting her frustrations into the darkness. Whoever took them was probably still around, and likely looking for her. Not having seen any lights flickering in the darkness, Emi felt somewhat secure that her kidnappers weren't in pursuit just yet, but, based on the outlandish file Kenji described during the car ride, it seemed likely the group was funded well enough to use modern night-vision or thermal technology, perhaps even bio-scans, to find her in the darkness. Those methods had few indicators to show the source of the pursuer, a fleeting red or green light in the distance at best, and those would be difficult to spot from her low angle through the trees.

A nearby snapping sound like a breaking tree branch caused her to stop crawling and roll over to look around. Peering into the darkness, she tried to focus, but the overcast sky and complete lack of moonlight just left her staring into blackness. Nothing but dark shadows resting across the umbral gloom greeted her searching eyes, and for a moment she understood what it might be like being legally blind - like her audacious partner.

Held in suspense, time seemed to slow as Emi concentrated on her aural sense; listening for additional sounds. Even the insects seemed to fall silent as she focused, but, whatever had broken the branch, it was apparently stopped in place, and likely searching the darkness in much the same way. Soon, it would come to a decision; whether to run away, or press its attack, and Emi wanted to be ready for either event. Sidling backward on her elbows slowly, she placed her back against a fallen tree and felt around for a blunt object to use as a defensive weapon. Finding a narrow branch, about three feet in length, she levied it in front of her. Barely able to see the stick in her own hand, she steeled her gaze, peering into the darkness and praying she didn't have to try and fight something off blind, and from a prone position – the odds were decidedly against her.

Rushing wind caught in her ears and a distant mournful wail from a coyote found its way across the vale, but the area around her was otherwise deafeningly silent. Holding her breath, Emi was still startled by a sudden rustling coming from her left as a barely-visible bush started shaking violently. There was a groan, not a growl, and several snapping noises like breaking branches, followed by the sight of a shadowy figure falling out from between the bushes. Landing in a heap on the ground about ten feet away, it seemed to just lay there for a few seconds before leaping up onto its knees, coughing and sputtering. Evidently brushing at its face and head, perhaps to push pine needles away, the figure was distracted and hadn't noticed her.
Coiling like a spring, Emi rested the stick along her forearm and held it in front of her like a nightstick, deciding to stay still and observe the creature - no, the man.

Beginning to notice details about the haggard figure, Emi stayed silent, carefully assessing whether this was friend or foe. It was a man, a skinny man, and, from what she could tell, he was naked as the day he was born. His messy hair and a narrow, pointed chin were obvious even in this pitch darkness. Still cautious, as he started to stand, Emi made herself as small as possible; desiring to remain the only one who knew someone else was nearby. Tentatively, holding his hands out to balance himself, or perhaps to feel around for something to stand up against, the man stood and began glancing around in animated fashion. Grunting and sputtering, he seemed to look straight at her, but evidently his eyes were rather effective; she wasn't that well hidden. Then he calmed and stood straight-backed, bringing his fist up to his side as his head began looking around in a familiar side to side motion – Emi nearly threw the stick at him.

“Kenji?” she whispered, trying not to let the angry edge into her voice. As much as she was contemplating his assassination, it was good to see him alive - well, mostly.

He leaped around and faced in the wrong direction exclaiming, “Who's there?”

Definitely Kenji.

“It's Emi you idiot!” she yelled, letting the anger flow through her.

“Ibarazaki?” he asked, still trying to follow her voice.

“Who else? I'm over here,” she answered, trying to direct his gaze toward her. She thought for a second about her predicament and added, “don't look.”

Kenji finally faced toward her, but she noticed he was without his distinctive glasses. “They took my legs,” she explained, “you're getting me new ones!”

“Sorry,” he said. “My spleen let them get the jump on us," he explained, asking, "did they strip-search you too?”

Emi didn't want to answer that question, but figured it was important he understood the scope of the situation. “Yeah... all I have left is my suit-jacket,” she explained. She let out a groan and added, “it's fuckin' killing me, though.”

“All I got left is a sock,” Kenji said. “I put it to good use, though,” he gestured downward and Emi looked away. “Gotta protect the junk,” he said crudely.

Not wanting this particular subject to remain active, Emi shook her head to try and clear the mental image before asking, “any idea where we are?”

“No idea,” he admitted. “But my spleen thinks there's a road...” he spun around and gestured into the pitch black, “down that way somewhere.”

She didn't trust his spleen, but it seemed to be pointing him in the same direction she was going. “Well, I've been crawling for about half an hour this way,” Emi explained as she tried to push herself up against the log. “I'm not exactly thrilled to be looking for civilization in my current state, but we need to find a phone somewhere.”

Kenji offered a nod, or at least it looked like he nodded, and inquired, “well, I seem to need your eyes and you need my legs. Wasn't there an episode of Star Trek like that?” Holding up and shaking his hand dismissively, he continued, “never-mind. If you don't mind me carrying you, we can probably get to the road faster.”

Emi frowned and grit her teeth. He had a point, she knew, but the thought of being naked and carried by a naked man, especially Kenji, through the woods was a grim prospect; not to mention embarrassing. However, the thought of staying out here through the night and likely being mauled by a bear was somewhat less appealing. Still, if they were going to die, she wanted to have the chance to stab Kenji, or bludgeon him to death, and she could do that more easily by starting so close - tactical advantage outweighed her pride.

Tightening the grip on her stick, she pushed herself to sit on the log. “Fine,” she said, “just don't get any ideas.”

Kenji gave a bow and seemed to smile saying, “I'll be a perfect gentleman... I can't guarantee all my parts will be so gentlemanly, however.”

Emi rolled her eyes at the lewd compliment. “As long as the parts that count remain gentlemanly," she admonished, "you'll probably survive the walk down to the road.”

“Probably?” he questioned.

“There could be bears,” she explained sheepishly.

“I didn't force you into the car, Ibarazaki,” he said. That was his typical excuse when he got them in trouble; it was pure bullshit, though. If he didn't get her to go along right away, he would pester her until she agreed, and Kenji was an expert pest. He was legally blind and relied on her to do the driving, so, unless she agreed, he couldn't pursue whatever ridiculous lead he had found, and, over the years, he learned how to press her buttons.

Sighing with exasperation, Emi shook her head and grimaced. “Just pick me up so we can get the hell out of here,” she commanded.

"Right," Kenji replied. Taking a few tentative steps closer, he reached down to lift her by the legs while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Hefting her up, Kenji grunted and fumbled as his hand ran under her thigh, nearly causing him to drop her immediately. Finding a somewhat comfortable perch in his arms, Emi was happy she at least had that suit-jacket as a barrier between them, or Kenji might not be able to control himself.

Smiling inwardly at that notion, she leaned close to his ear as they started walking and whispered, “If you tell anyone about this, I'll murder you in your sleep.”

With that cleared up, the two of them started trekking through the darkened woods, headed toward what Kenji's spleen said was a road. Emi peered into the darkness, watching for pursuit, and tried to ignore his wandering eyes. Kenji kept eerily quiet as they walked, but Emi figured he was concentrating on not overreacting to having a woman in his arms; it was a rare event. Figuring his inability to see was probably saving her modesty, she couldn't really do anything about it unless she wanted to crawl all the way back to civilization; dead Kenji couldn't carry her, after all.

She could murder him before calling in, though.

Next part: http://pastebin.com/2aqPznsz