Vol 7 Chapter 3.2 (1/2)
Continued from PART A.
They were at the top of the stairs. It was such a cramped s.p.a.ce that they had barely any room to stand.
”s.h.i.+on, there's no exit.”
There was no handle or b.u.t.ton to be found. Only a blank wall.
We've messed up.
His heart pounded. Cold sweat streamed down his back. If this was a dead end, then there was no escape for them. They could not fend off the pursuers coming from below.
”Up,” s.h.i.+on yelled. ”Push the ceiling up!”
Nezumi's body sprang into motion on s.h.i.+on's orders.
Bang. The middle portion of the ceiling opened up like a trap door. Nezumi kicked off the ground, and launched himself up. Just then, he heard a clamour below.
The door had been forced open.
”They're up there! Aim for them!” The unique dry popping sound of firearms.
”s.h.i.+on!” He extended his hand, and he could feel s.h.i.+on latching onto it tightly. He pulled the other boy up.
”Agh!” s.h.i.+on let out a small cry.
”Did they get you?”
”―'m alright. Just a graze.”
Once they shut the trap door, all noise was cut off, and only an eerie silence remained. s.h.i.+on let out a long breath.
”Does it hurt?”
”No―no big deal.”
”First time, huh?”
”Hm?”
”It's your first time getting fired at. And a sniper rifle, at that―a pretty old firearm. Sleek looks, deadly accuracy. That's the kind of formidable lady you're dealing with.”
”I see. Well, attractive as she is, I wouldn't like to go on any future dates with her.” s.h.i.+on laughed quietly as he bound his calf.
Perhaps he was straining himself. But it meant that he could still push himself further, and that the wound wasn't so bad that he couldn't move. Not that it mattered how bad his injury was, anyway: they had to keep moving. They could not stay in one place.
That was why he would not question s.h.i.+on further. He would not concern himself with the boy. They only had to keep moving forward together.
”s.h.i.+on, where's this?”
”A part of the old air vents. I suppose they used these when this place was just built. But soon afterwards, they built new external reinforced walls. They added circulatory filtration devices, and these vents went out of use.”
”Which means they stopped needing them right when the Correctional Facility was turning into a stronghold. So the old vents must be―here.” Nezumi's extended hand pointed to a rectangular tunnel.
”What's down this way?” he asked.
”Probably a dead end. They've probably blocked it up partway.”
”I thought so. I figured it wouldn't be as easy as worming our way right to the internal core through the vents.”
”Yeah. But we'll have to go as far as we can.”
He was right. There was no way back. They had no choice but to go as far as they could go.
”s.h.i.+on, I'll boost you up. Go on ahead.”
”'kay.”
s.h.i.+on dove into the hole more nimbly than Nezumi expected. He felt the slimy texture of blood as he supported s.h.i.+on's leg. He clenched his hand into a fist.
”Hey, this thing opens.” The upper body of a soldier peeked into view along with his voice. As soon as the soldier hoisted himself up, Nezumi kicked his chin so it snapped back, and swung his rifle b.u.t.t down on the man's temple. He dragged the unconscious body up into the vent, aimed his gun through the opening, and began to fire. He heard bodies tumbling down the stairs. He closed the trapdoor, and rolled the soldier's body over it.
”He's got a nice beer gut. That should serve as a good weight.” Nezumi rifled through the man's pockets and almost whistled.
”Nezumi, what're you doing? Hurry up,” s.h.i.+on called.
”Don't rush me. We gotta get the most we can from them,” he answered.
He entered the hole head-first. It was cramped. He had to lie flat on his belly in order to even move. Tsukiyo hopped out from the folds of his clothes and scurried down the tunnel.
”It's like a mouse hole in here,” s.h.i.+on reflected idly.
Still got his wits, he thought fleetingly. The boy was calmer than he expected. It wasn't an ignorant kind of calm; s.h.i.+on understood his situation well enough. He felt the danger and tension of it, and yet also had room to be calm on top of it all.
But why?
”We couldn't have gotten through here if we were any fatter,” s.h.i.+on said thoughtfully.
”Well, I guess.”
”Inukas.h.i.+ could get through just fine. Rikiga-san might have a bit of trouble.”
”Rikiga? You mean the alcoholic geezer? He wouldn't have been able to get this far in the first place. He would've tripped and fallen over when we had to dash down the hall.”
”So by now...”
”He would've been charred black. I feel ill just imagining what Roasted Old Man would look like.”
Cheep-cheep-cheep.
Tsukiyo answered in place of s.h.i.+on. s.h.i.+on stopped moving.
”Dead end?”
”Yeah.”
Dead end. I see. So this is it.
”It's a dead end. But...” s.h.i.+on's palm slid along the wall. There was a soft clunk as a part of it fell away. Light seeped through.
”The grate. They must've blocked it from our side.”