Jason Rohan - The Shield of Kuromori

‘It’s OK,’ Kenny called up. ‘You’re doing great.’

BZZZT! Kenny’s wrist vibrated.

He carved out the last step and jumped down to check his smartwatch. TRAPPED IN DOME WITH 3 ONI AND MORE ON THE WAY. BE CAREFUL. Kenny blinked. Since when did Kiyomi ever warn him to be careful? It was usually the other way round. How bad was this?

He took a quick look to make sure that the office workers were safely clear of the blazing ruin and then made for the short road leading to the observatory. Rounding the trees, he saw another delivery van whizz past, followed by the earth-shaking bulk of a container lorry. Both ground to a halt outside the domed building.

Kenny’s feet pounded the asphalt as he drew nearer. The back doors of the van flew open and a grey oni jumped out. It was hunched over, carrying something. Kenny slowed down, trying to make out what it was. One hand supported the weight, the other gripped a handle. Was it a leaf blower? A hedge trimmer? A chainsaw?

The oni strode away from the vehicles and levelled the object in Kenny’s direction. His blood turned to ice as he made out six long tubes in a circular arrangement.

Kenny had played enough video games to recognise a M134 Gatling Minigun when he saw one – and this one was aimed right at him.

SQUEEEEEEEE-AAAAAWWW! The screech of the circular saw changed pitch as it bit into the metal of the telescope mount, bearing down harder and spraying an arc of golden sparks across the floor. The lavender oni leaned in, pressing down on the spinning disc.

‘Easy does it. You don’t want to snap the blade,’ warned the silver-masked team leader. He hummed a tune to himself while he inspected the gantry assembled round the telescope. Scaffolding poles criss-crossed in a steel web and heavy cables were draped around the huge instrument.

Kiyomi sat up at the sound of doors opening. Eleven pairs of heavy boots clomped into the room and took up positions around the perimeter. Eleven oni – four dressed as drivers, plus seven passengers – add the three in the room . . .

‘We’ve got company,’ one of the drivers said to the lead oni .

‘I know,’ the chief replied, pointing a claw up at the gallery. Kiyomi raised her middle finger in acknowledgement.

‘No, outside. Some stupid-looking gaijin kid in shorts. He can see us.’

The mask raised its eyebrows. ‘Kuromori? Hmm. Nothing changes. We stick to the plan. If he gives us any trouble, I’ll take care of him.’

‘Here it goes!’ said the oni with the saw.

‘Quickly! Take up the slack,’ ordered the boss.

Moving as one, the oni all took up positions, some grabbing hold of the telescope, others bracing the frame and the remainder taking hold of the cables. The giant instrument pivoted on the last of its mounting before, with a final cut, it lurched free. Cries and groans filled the dome as the oni struggled to support the weight. Kiyomi watched the gantry buckle outwards, but it didn’t break.

‘Steady . . . steady!’ called the chief. ‘Lower it gently. Six and Eight, move into position.’

Two oni ran forward to situate themselves at each end of the telescope and it was lowered on to their shoulders.

In well-drilled, practised movements, the monsters arranged themselves round their prize, six on each side, like coffin-bearers, and proceeded to shuffle towards the lower exit, led by the one with the saw.

Silver remained in the room. His glowing red eyes picked out Kiyomi, hunched on the walkway, her arms round her knees.

‘So you’re the girl who likes to kill oni ,’ he said.

Kiyomi glared back at him. ‘Put down the gun and let’s find out.’

Silver chuckled and reached into his uniform pocket, extracting a sausage-shaped metal tube.

‘Now what?’ Kiyomi pressed. ‘You’re going to shoot me and run away like the coward you are?’

The oni flipped the cap off the tube and tapped a cigar into his hand. He bit the end off and stuck it between his fangs. ‘Hey, you kill oni , I kill humans. It’s what we do.’ He snapped his fingers and a flame jumped up from his hand. He waved the cigar tip over the flame and sucked, inhaling deeply. ‘Oh, man. That’s good. As I was saying, it’s nothing personal, just business, right?’ He leaned down and tore the cap off the large steel drum. ‘No? OK – for you, it’s personal – but still, we’re not that different. Am I right or am I right?’

He tapped out a beat on the lid of the drum before picking it up and, humming again, he poured petrol on to the floor and splashed it up the walls. Gasoline fumes wavered and swirled high into the air, making Kiyomi’s eyes sting from the sweet, sickly odour.

Silver set the drum down again and pressed the back of his palm against his forehead by way of a salute. ‘Well, it’s been nice talking to you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll see you in Hell one of these days.’

And with that he turned on his heel and headed for the exit, tossing the cigar over his shoulder. It bounced once, rolled – and nuzzled a puddle of fuel.

Kiyomi barely had time to scream before – WHOOOOMPf! – a blue flame rolled across the floor, igniting the remainder of the petrol. In seconds, the interior of the dome was ablaze. Fiery tongues leapt high into the air, licking at the vintage wooden ceiling.

Kenny hurled himself to the ground as the world exploded around him. Blistering chunks of high-velocity lead chewed up the asphalt, grass, bushes, trees – everything.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! The Minigun roared, disgorging over twenty rounds per second through a fiery halo which hovered in front of the spinning barrels. Spent cartridges cascaded to the floor, clinking like a slot machine paying out a jackpot win. Chips of tarmac pelted Kenny’s body and wooden splinters stabbed into his hands, which were shielding his head. Move! his brain screamed, but his legs weren’t listening.

‘Me see you!’ the oni bellowed above the roar of gunfire, and adjusted its aim.

Kenny centred his ki , imagining a thick heavy wall and threw an arm up.

‘Huh?!’ he heard the oni cry, and he opened his eyes. A low bank of soil had risen up from the ground, shielding Kenny from the oni ’s weapon. The beat of thudding bullets stopped. ‘Not fair!’ the oni bellowed and Kenny heard the thumping of its boots approaching.

This time, his legs scrambled into action, propelling him headlong into the nearest stand of trees. Foliage detonated once again on all sides as the oni resumed firing.

‘Where you hide, boy, if no trees left?’ the oni said.

Kenny crouched behind a thick, sturdy Japanese cedar, a metre wide at the base. He was pinned down, with valuable seconds ticking away.

‘Hey, stupid!’ he yelled. ‘Reckon you can chop down this tree?’ Kenny poked his head round for the oni to see.

‘ Oni not stupid!’ the oni said.

Kenny dropped to his knees and ducked his head as a flurry of bullets ripped into the tree. The smell of burning wood stung his nostrils and splinters rained down.

‘Hah!’ the oni said. ‘Me tell you. No tree, no hide. You die now.’

K-RAKKK!

Kenny peered upwards, saw the huge tree start to lean over – and smiled.

‘Hey, what so funn–?’ The oni ’s yellow eyes widened as the massive trunk crashed down, driving him into the ground like a hammer pounding a nail.