Vampire Hunter D Volume 10: Dark Nocturne: Dark Nocturne v. 10 by Hideyuki Kikuchi

Author:Hideyuki Kikuchi [Kikuchi, Hideyuki]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Dark Horse Comics
Published: 2012-10-09T00:00:00+00:00

SONG OF THE FALL

CHAPTER 4

I

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Sent scurrying back to the guard barracks in full retreat, Bazura pounded on the door. Though he’d used the medicine and bandages in the survival kit he always carried to patch himself up, he hadn’t been able to close the wounds at all, and the lifeblood running down his cheek left a vivid impression on him. Having burrowed through the ground until he reached the road, then running the rest of the way, he felt like his heart was just a tattered bag ready to explode.

I’ll get you for this, D, he thought, swearing vengeance even as he slumped against the door anemically. The problem was, the door wouldn’t open.

“What in blazes are they doing?!”

Circling around for a peek through one of the windows that had light spilling from it, he gasped in horror. There were four or five men lying on the floor, covered with blood. After turning away and taking a deep breath, he looked in again.

“What the hell?!”

Apparently the combination of exhaustion, fear, and anger had played a trick on his eyes. His men were all sitting there diligently maintaining their weapons.

When he opened the door and stepped in, the place was pervaded by a strange chill. Perhaps it was just his imagination, or maybe it was nerves, but everyone looked paler than usual.

“Something happen?” someone asked as they all noted his injuries.

“You could say that, I guess. D’s still alive,” he replied as he set his crossbow down on the table.

“We know,” one of them replied.

It took a second for the warrior’s eyes to bug at that remark.

“You know? How the hell is that?”

“Someone told us,” someone else said.

Why are these jokers bunching up around me?

“Yeah? Who?” Bazura asked them.

Shit! Jock’s got between me and my bow.

“Her.”

All their eyes were trained on something behind him.

When Bazura turned his gaze to follow the others’, his eyes were etched with the image of a woman in a white dress.

“Who—who are you?” he stammered.

The girl’s face was right in front of him. Her breath was cold and had the perfume of an autumn night.

“So, we meet again,” whispered a young lady he’d never seen before.

__

“We’ve got trouble!”

Sensing the urgency in the shouts of Cecile’s father, the sheriff raced back into the holding area.

In one cell, Lyle was clutching his chest.

“What’s the matter?” asked the lawman.

“The kid had a knife hidden on him. He was trying to use it to pick the lock when it suddenly slipped and he stabbed himself by mistake. The mayor’s gonna be furious!”

More than anything, it was the last remark that robbed the sheriff of his composure.

“Damn fool,” he muttered as he hastily unlocked the door, but the second he opened it, the wheezing figure on the floor pounced on the sheriff and drove his fingers into the lawman’s solar plexus.

“Well, I’m off,” said the boy.

“We’re counting on you. Rescue her, then the both of you better take off for someplace else.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll come back for you.”

Reaching through the bars to give the girl’s father a firm pat on the shoulder, Lyle then left the holding area.

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