1931 The Grand Punk Railroad: Local

by Ryohgo Narita

  The boss of an imperfect, thoroughly vague gang of delinquents began to speak; his tattoo was shivering.

  “Donny’s in the freight room right now, unloading! I told him to keep one box back, Nice, so you take that one!”

  After yelling this, Jacuzzi set a hand on the connecting platform’s ladder.

  “I’ll draw him away! You two run straight through the dining car! Just leave the ones who come through below to Fang and Jon!”

  Jacuzzi nodded, his gaze steady and firm. There was no time for questions. All they could do now was believe in his confidence.

  Nice pushed her glasses up to her forehead and peeled back the eye patch that covered her right eye.

  With a practiced motion, she took out the thing she’d had in her eye socket, then pressed it into Jacuzzi’s hand.

  It was a black, round object the size of an eyeball, with a long fuse wrapped tightly around it.

  “That’s the last bomb I’ve got. It isn’t very powerful, but take it, just in case.”

  At Nice’s words, Jacuzzi nodded firmly and answered:

  “Thank you, Nice. I’ll think of it as you and detonate it carefully!”

  “Don’t be creepy.”

  Nice smiled. Jacuzzi listened until she’d finished speaking, then immediately began to climb the ladder.

  “Miz Nice! They’re here!”

  Nick, who’d been looking through the window into the first-class carriages, raised his voice roughly. Nice nodded in response, and then she and Nick opened the door to the dining car and broke into a run.

  When Goose opened the door, the tattooed guy had just stepped off the top of the ladder.

  “I’ll go after him! You men go underneath and circle around behind him!”

  His expression might have been abnormal, but part of Goose was still calm. After issuing orders to his subordinates, he began to climb the ladder himself.

  On the roof near the middle of the carriage, Jacuzzi was waiting for Goose and the others to come up.

  He didn’t know how many of them would come up, but he was pretty sure only one could climb the ladder at a time.

  He didn’t really want anybody to come up. Even now, killing people hurt. He’d seen corpses lots of times, and he’d seen his friends kill opposing mafiosi, when he himself had been the cause of it all. Talking to Isaac and Miria had softened the feeling of guilt somewhat, but killing people directly was still painful.

  But I have to do it.

  Swallowing hard, fighting to keep his balance on the swaying train, he waited.

  Then a shadow appeared at the break in the roof.

  He put his finger on the trigger, but something was very strange.

  For a human head, it seemed really narrow. Almost as if it was some sort of nozzle—

  As he was thinking this, said nozzle turned his way. It was caught on the corner of the roof and angled slightly upward, but it was definitely turned toward Jacuzzi.

  I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

  The moment he thought that, the premonition came true.

  With abnormal force, the end of the nozzle spit fire.

  “—Huh?”

  As Jacuzzi stood, stunned by this unexpected situation, his face was brightly illuminated by red flames.

  Because the nozzle had been tilted, the band of flames passed far over Jacuzzi’s head. Even so, a wind so ferociously hot it nearly burned him struck his face.

  “Wah, waaaaugh!”

  In spite of himself, he fell on his butt right there, then hastily scooted backward.

  He’d been surprised by the jet of flames, too, but what had surprised him more was the distance. Although he was sure the nozzle had been at the end of the car, the column of flame had clearly reached the opposite end of the roof. If it had that sort of range when shot at an angle, if fired horizontally, it would easily surpass the length of the car.

  This distance was dangerous. Jacuzzi hastily got up, then began running full tilt, trying to widen the gap.

  When he looked back, he saw the owner of that nozzle come up onto the roof. But the man didn’t chase the fleeing Jacuzzi; he simply took aim from where he was.

  When Jacuzzi leaped across the next coupling, the nozzle spit fire again.

  As he staggered from his landing, a band of red flame passed by him. Jacuzzi had gained a certain distance, but the wave of heat that assailed him was no joke. He worried that his clothes might catch fire, but the skin on his face seemed likely to blaze up first.

  Because the train had been heading into a curve, he’d managed to avoid a direct hit, but if the direction of the nozzle changed, he’d be barbecued.

  As he’d feared, the trajectory of the flames began to move. Jacuzzi continued running desperately, finally sprinting clear of the flames’ range.

  He could tell the tip of the flames had cut behind him. The heat felt as though he’d been thrown into an oven. That wave of heat was probably more than enough to kill a person, even if they didn’t directly catch fire.

  Jacuzzi kept on running, then turned back when he thought the influence of the superhot wave had lessened.

  “Please hit home…”

  He took aim at the fire-man and pulled the trigger. At this distance, when the person firing was an inexperienced amateur, it was hopeless. Even so, all Jacuzzi could do now was shoot.

  Click-click-click-click-click-click.

  “Huh?”

  The reality was beyond hopeless.

  Never mind amateurs and those other things: The machine gun was already out of bullets.

  The guy leveled the machine gun, but before long, he threw it away.

  Out of bullets, apparently. What a cretin.

  “An imbecilic end for someone who gave me so much trouble. I’ll take my time burning him to ash.”

  With a fiendish smile, Goose slowly began to walk toward the rear cars.

  In his hand, he held a 1918-model flamethrower, made in Germany. In addition, it had been modified a bit to bring it in line with current technology. It was an antique, purchased through illegal channels, and he’d never expected it to be this useful. The weapon had originally been used by Master Huey, but he’d brought it just in case, and it had been the right move.

  Still, it was a mistake not to wear fireproof clothing. If I fire this repeatedly, the heat may do me in.

  As he pursued the fleeing man over the roof, Goose’s head gradually regained its composure.

  That aside, aren’t the men who went through the car up here yet? Well, if that’s the best my adversary has, I’m more than capable of handling him myself, but…

  Goose’s men had run through the dining car and reached the door to the coupling.

  On seeing them, the passengers huddled into themselves like frightened rabbits.

  Without sparing a glance for them, the black suits reached out to open the door to the platform.

  Clunk.

  However, the sliding door only shook dully, and it wouldn’t open.

  They tried several times to release the door. As they did so, all the subordinates piled up at the back of the car.

  “Hey, hurry and open it.”

  “Hold on a minute. The door’s stuck…”

  Click.

  At that sound, the black suits froze. The noise had sounded quite a lot like a hammer being cocked.

  Ka-chak.

  The next thing they heard was the sort of sound a leveled machine gun made.

  ClickKa-clickTakaClackChakClick

  Cha-chickTikkiTakaClickClackka

  ClackTak

  Click Click TikatikKa-chakKa-clickChakTakkaKa-chak

  Ka-chakClickTikkaKa-chakTik-a-chakTikki ClackkaKa-click TakkaKa-chak

  Sound summoned sound, and they began to guess what was happening behind them.

  If they’d turned around when they heard that first click and strafed with their machine guns, they would have won.

  However, because there had been no resistance from the passengers until
now, they’d gotten careless. What had clinched it was that, compared to Goose and Spike, they were overwhelmingly short on experience.

  Even if they pointed their guns behind them now, no doubt it would be far too late. All the black suits could do was turn their heads, slowly, to look back.

  “If you’d throw your guns down before you turn around, it would really help us out.”

  Jon’s voice rang out coldly.

  “They’re all amateurs, see. The only thing we taught them was how to pull the trigger. If you turn around holding guns, some coward’s going to shoot for sure.”

  The black suits gave up, lowered their guns, and began to place them on the floor. They had no experience, and on top of that, they didn’t have even half of Chané’s faith in the organization.

  This time, slowly, they did turn around, and saw the same dining car passengers who’d been there a moment before.

  Just one thing was different: Every one of the passengers was armed with a gun, and they were pointing the barrels at them with fear in their eyes.

  In ironic tones, Jon and Fang spoke to the men:

  “Letting the train you hijacked get hijacked out from under you? That’s pretty sad. Complete with your hostages and weapons, yet.”

  “That’s no good, guys. You’ve got to take responsibility and watch your hostages all the way to the end, you know?”

  A moment ago, Jacuzzi had captured one of the black suits and gotten a certain amount of information out of him. One of the things he’d heard had been that their plan included a siege strategy that would use the train as a fortress.

  That meant they must have brought quite a lot of extra weapons, didn’t it? Jacuzzi’s guess had been right on the money: The freight room had held a veritable mountain of spare guns and ammunition.

  Then, a little while ago, Jacuzzi had captured the dining car and asked the hostages for their help. Parenthetically, only Jon’s and Fang’s guns had been loaded with live rounds.

  Even so, as a result, Jacuzzi had won the bet.

  As Jon tied up the black suits with a torn-up tablecloth, he was mildly pensive.

  They’ve always said people tend to develop trust relationships with criminals they spend a lot of time with, but… Man, Jacuzzi… He hijacked even that trust.

  When he’d tied all of them up, he asked Fang a question:

  “What was it they called this in the Far East?”

  “The thing that gunman said at the counter? Nah, I’d never heard of it, but…”

  The two of them fell silent for a little while, then slowly recalled Isaac’s words.

  “Uh, ‘Maybe you did, but—’”

  “‘—I ate you.’”

  Jacuzzi had finally been cornered.

  Right now, he was at the very last coupling. Should he get down, or should he cross to the last car up top?

  If he went down, though, the other guy would go down into the car, too. He could wait until the man got onto his car and then make his move, but if the range of the flamethrower was longer then the car, there was no point. Even if the other man never got onto this carriage, the flames could burn up everything in it.

  Besides, if he got down and tried to hide, the man might burn the entire car along with him.

  That’s not even funny. Nice and the guys are in the freight room…

  If he was going to get burned either way, he might as well just do all he could.

  Jacuzzi drew a deep breath, then turned to face Goose.

  “The fool. Has he grown desperate?”

  Giving a small, satisfied smile with bloodshot eyes, Goose slowly closed the distance between himself and Jacuzzi.

  First, he’d burn this man to death. After that, he’d burn up the woman with the eye patch and the others. The woman in the coveralls and the white suits and the hostages: He’d use these flames and burn them all to ash.

  I am a bit concerned about fuel, though. We may have increased the capacity, but a full-power blast only lasts a bit over ten seconds. I have extra fuel on hand as well, but I’m rather uneasy.

  Just to be on the safe side, he closed down the firing valve slightly. It would shorten the distance by half, but the fuel would probably last longer.

  Carrying a load that weighed more than sixty pounds on his back, Goose decided to close the distance between himself and the tattooed man until he was certain he could incinerate him.

  Little by little, the man was closing in. He’d gotten onto the roof of the first freight car.

  He’d be within firing range soon. Taking a gamble, Jacuzzi took out the bomb Nice had given him.

  The weird thing on that guy’s back has to be filled with fuel. If I manage to ignite that…

  However, at this point, he came face-to-face with his own stupidity.

  I don’t have anything to light it with!

  It was hopeless. So what if he did have a bomb? If he couldn’t light it, it was completely useless.

  Well, no, there was fire around. The other man would probably give him tons of it for free, but it was likely that he’d either just burn to death, or that the explosive would catch directly and blow his arm off. The end result would probably be both of the above.

  If this was how things stood, maybe he should just jump off the train. He might still have a chance that way.

  However, Nice and the passengers would die for sure.

  Stuck with no way out, Jacuzzi began to consider charging his opponent.

  Ahh, would somebody who’s fighting this guy show up? White suits or the Rail Tracer, I don’t care which. If possible, it would be great if they’d take each other out…

  Keeping this desire to rely on others clamped down inside him, Jacuzzi resolved to make a suicide run at his opponent.

  In that instant, saviors arrived.

  People he hadn’t asked for appeared from a place he’d never even imagined.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

  Suddenly, a nerve-shattering scream rang out. It came from below the train, at the side, right where Goose was standing.

  “What’s that?”

  Foolishly, in an attempt to discover the source of the voice, he went closer to its point of origin.

  Was it hubris, because he had an ultimate weapon? Was it carelessness, because he was sure of his victory? Or was it his policy to investigate such abnormalities as a rule?

  If only he hadn’t approached the voice, he would have avoided disaster, and yet…

  Leveling the flamethrower’s nozzle, Goose carefully looked over toward the ground, and in that instant

  They came swinging up from underneath.

  “WAAAaaaaaAAAaaAAAUUuugh!”

  The instant Goose peered over, the scream abruptly got closer and louder. Then, suddenly, from behind Goose, a huge mass appeared.

  A thick rope stretched from the side of the train. A big lump was clinging to the end of it, flying through space in a motion like an upside-down clock pendulum. It looked like an enormous yo-yo.

  Jacuzzi, who was watching from a short distance away, picked up on the identity of the lump at the end of the taut rope.

  It was the figure of a gunman, holding something in his arms, and a woman in a red dress, hanging onto his legs.

  “I… Isaac?!”

  At the sight of the sudden intruders, Jacuzzi’s eyes went round.

  “Why?! What are you doing here?!”

  The next instant, a gust of wind reached Jacuzzi.

  In order to bring him victory, the southeast wind had indeed blown.

  “AAAAAAaaaAAAaaaAAaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

  In the blink of an eye, the scream faded away on the other side of the train. Moving at a low-angle trajectory, like the winter sun, that gigantic human yo-yo had sketched a neat arc over the top of the train.

  Goose’s body had been located just inside that angled orbit. As Isaac and Miria fell down the opposite side of the train from him, the thick rope that stretched behind them scooped Goose’s feet out from under him.
r />   “What?!”

  A powerful shock ran through Goose’s Achilles tendon. The string of the enormous yo-yo had caught on his legs, and the black-suited figure took a magnificent tumble.

  His back slammed into the roof. His spine was forcibly compressed, molding to the shape of the tank.

  More than that, Goose was terrified that the impact might have broken the tank. However, it didn’t seem as though fuel was leaking, and he couldn’t hear the sound of escaping hydrogen gas. Apparently, it had come through unscathed.

  “Damn it, what was that?”

  Slowly, Goose got to his feet, then began walking toward the tattooed man again. The lump that had been at the end of the rope bothered him, but he’d burn that tattooed child first. Although it wasn’t easy to jump with a sixty-pound weight on his back, if he took a bit of a run-up, he’d manage to leap across the coupling somehow.

  So doing, Goose finally reached the last carriage, where the tattooed young man was waiting.

  “All right, tattooed man. Are you prepared?—Though I suppose I should at least ask your name.”

  “No way.”

  When he’d closed the distance to half a car length, they spoke to each other for the first time.

  “Oho? And why is that?”

  “I’m planning to throw you off this train, and if you survive— You’ll probably try to find me and take revenge. …So I’m not going to tell you my name. I don’t want you figuring out my address.”

  Jacuzzi tried to keep an extremely cool head as he responded, but when he saw the other man’s bloodshot eyes, no matter what he did, his answer came out distorted.

  On hearing his opponent’s words, Goose felt slightly deflated. He hadn’t expected to get an answer that was this childish, and street-smart to boot.

  Was this really the same guy who had fired that machine gun barrage a little while ago?

  “I see. That’s a shame. Are you prepared to die?”

  “If possible, I really don’t want to.”

  “Appeal rejected.”