The Rising Sea

28

Superintendent Nagano followed Ushi-Oni using the tracking coin. It was an ingenious piece of electronic design, transmitting a signal on the cell phone band and sending a pulse only once every thirty seconds, which made it virtually undetectable to any person holding it.

At a long distance, the signal was relayed by the nation’s vast network of cell towers, but, closer in, Nagano used a dedicated receiver to home in on the GPS coordinates being transmitted from the coin.

The signal led him out of Tokyo and onto a twisting mountain road. When the assassin stopped at a gas station to get fuel and use the restroom, Nagano snuck up to his car and placed a second transmitter under the bumper in case Oni used or lost the coin.

With two transmitters in place, Nagano dropped well back of his quarry, keeping out of sight and waiting for the opportune moment to arrest him.

To his surprise, Ushi-Oni continued higher into the mountains, heading to the foothills of Mount Fuji, before turning onto an obscure side road and finally stopping an hour later.

Nagano studied the satellite image. It displayed nothing but a forested hillside. A yellow icon suggested a small guesthouse was hidden beneath the trees. As was a natural onsen—a traditional hot spring, mineral bath. In addition, a Shinto shrine lay nearby.

Nagano drove past the guesthouse, continued several miles up the road and then pulled over. When thirty minutes had passed without any movement from either of the two transmitters, he doubled back and approached the inn cautiously.

Ushi-Oni’s car remained in the lot, along with twenty other vehicles. The busy state of the guesthouse didn’t surprise Nagano — both the hot springs and the Shinto shrines were popular spots to visit. Some drew millions of visitors per year, though this particular shrine was smaller and all but unknown.

According to the information he was able to pull up on the computer, it was not even open to the public. All in all, he found it a strange place for Ushi-Oni to stop.

Nagano checked on the location of the original transmitter just in case Ushi-Oni had come here to switch cars. The tracking coin was signaling him from a spot inside the guesthouse.

Convinced that Ushi-Oni was there, Nagano parked in the lot and called his most trusted subordinate. “I’ve tracked the Demon to a shrine in the mountains,” he explained. “Bring two of your best men. We’ll arrest him tonight.”

After being assured that reinforcements would be there soon, Nagano loosened his tie and waited.

Ushi-Oni stood in a small room, pressed against the wall and peering through a tiny gap between the curtain and the window frame. Seeing no movement in the parking lot or out on the street, he eased the curtain back into place and walked away from the glass.

He opened a small case, pulled out a pair of throwing knives and slipped them into slots in the loose jacket he wore. He then closed the case, checked his watch and left the room. He still had time. Plenty of time.

He made his way through the inn and out onto a narrow path that led to the onsen. Disrobing completely, he showered first and then lowered himself into the bubbling water of the natural hot spring. He sat with his back against the wet black rock that surrounded the bath as the steam enshrouded him and obscured anything beyond the rim of bubbling waters.

After several minutes, a shape came down the path, emerging from the fog beyond. The new arrival wore a white robe and an oddly shaped black hat known as a crow hat, or karasu. He was a Shinto priest.

“Shinsoku,” Oni said, addressing the man by a term that meant employee of the gods. The term was reserved for those who took care of the shrines. “I was beginning to doubt that you would come.”

The priest was staring at Oni’s colorful tattoos. “You are the one who contacted us?”

“Yes,” Oni said.

“You have asked for the purification ritual,” the priest said, confirming.

“Who would need it more than I?” Oni said.

The priest nodded. “It is my duty to guide you.”

“I have already bathed,” Ushi-Oni said. “What must I do next?”

“Put on your robe and follow me. I will show you.”

Ushi-Oni climbed out of the waters, pulled on a robe and put his feet into a pair of slippers. Clutching his folded clothes in one arm, he followed the priest on a path that took them back into the woods, away from the inn and up toward the shrine.

They traveled for half a mile, walking between tall stands of bamboo, until they came to a series of vermilion-colored gates known as torii. Each gate had two vertical posts, painted in the traditional red-orange scheme. They were capped by a black lintel with upturned ends from which oil lanterns hung, illuminating the path in a flickering light.

Beyond the first torii was another and then another. Some were old and dilapidated, others were newer. Inscriptions carved into them displayed the names of the families that had paid for them in hopes of securing good fortune.

“Is it true that the Tokagawa family once supported this shrine?” Ushi-Oni asked.

“Tokagawa?” the priest said. “No, I’m afraid that’s only a myth.”

They crested a hill and the path leveled off. Passing under the final gate, they arrived at the shrine itself: a small covered structure with an altar beneath it. A water-filled trough stood off to the side and two carved stone animals guarded the approach.

Ushi-Oni stepped toward it.

“You must wash first,” the priest said.

Ushi-Oni felt the sting of being told what to do. “I told you, I’ve already bathed.”

“The hands must be clean,” the priest said.

Reluctantly, Ushi-Oni placed his clothes aside and dipped his hands in the trickling water. The water was frigid, completely opposite to the hot bath he’d come from.

He pulled his hands out, shook them off and glared at the priest. “I’ve brought an offering.”

“You must rinse your mouth as well,” the priest said.

Ushi-Oni ignored the request and pulled out the marker chip that Han had given him. A marker that he’d chosen not to redeem.

“What is it?” the priest asked.

“A relic of my former life.”

The priest looked him over sternly, studying him like a disapproving schoolmaster. “Your past is a criminal one.”

And my future, Ushi-Oni thought. “I wish to escape who I am and reinvent myself as someone new. Isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“So it is,” the priest said. He picked up a ladle, filled it with water and handed it to Oni. “But you must rinse your mouth. It is required.”

Ushi-Oni had played the part long enough. He tossed the ladle down in disgust and stepped toward the old man, grabbing him by the loose vestments.

“You are possessed of an evil spirt,” the priest said.

“You have no idea,” Ushi-Oni growled. “Now, take me to the sanctuary. I wish to view what the Tokagawa family placed in your possession.”

The priest squirmed, but his feeble strength was no match for Ushi-Oni’s. “There is nothing there to see,” the priest stammered. “Nothing there for a criminal to steal. Just wisdom, which you reject.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Ushi-Oni said.

The priest tried to free himself, but Ushi-Oni slammed him against the trough, stunning him. The frail man went limp and Oni pulled his garment open. Around the priest’s neck hung a set of keys.

Oni grabbed and ripped them forth hard enough to snap the chain on which they hung.

The priest cried out, but Ushi-Oni covered his mouth and then snapped his neck with a swift twist of his arms.

Dropping the body to the ground, Ushi-Oni looked around him. A cool wind rustled through the bamboo, but, other than that, the forest was quiet.

Certain that he was alone, Oni took off his robe and then removed the priest’s garment and pulled it over his shoulders. The robe fit snugly; Oni was much larger than the dead priest. And, try as he might, he could not place the strange hat in a manner that looked normal. He slid the strap under his chin and left it crooked.

Before leaving the shrine, he dropped the naked priest in the trough. “Cleanse yourself, shinsoku.”

With the evidence of his first crime hidden, Oni tossed the brass casino marker toward the shrine, picked up his folded clothes once again and continued on the path toward the Shinto monastery up above.

Superintendent Nagano was glad to see the white van pull in beside him. His most trusted lieutenant and two plainclothes officers got out.

“Is he still here?” the lieutenant asked.

Nagano pointed toward the hills. “He’s gone up to the shrine.”

The lieutenant looked suspicious. “What would a man like Ushi-Oni want at a shrine?”

“I doubt he’s after forgiveness,” Nagano said.

“And you’re sure it’s him?”

“I saw him twice. It’s the man Zavala described,” Nagano said. “I want to take him alive. Preferably, out in the woods where there are no civilians.”

The lieutenant nodded. He carried a pistol and what they called a shock stick, essentially a high-powered Taser on a long pole — very useful in crowd control. The two officers had Heckler & Koch submachine guns, derivatives of the famous MP5 except with a much shorter barrel, a feature that made them excellent for close-quarters combat.

Nagano pulled out his own pistol. He was tired of waiting. “Let’s go.”

They moved quickly and silently, passing the vacant onsen and climbing their way up the bamboo-lined path to the thicket of torii gates. They arrived at the shrine without incident. There they stopped, but all they found was the hotel robe hastily rolled up and stuffed under the altar.

“He was wearing this,” Nagano said. “He must have changed back into his own clothing.”

“Look at this,” one of the men called from beside the trough.

Nagano rushed over and the two of them lifted the dead priest out of the purifying water.

“Any doubt that this is the Demon we’re tracking should be gone now.”

“Are you still getting a signal?” the lieutenant asked.

Nagano checked the display on his tablet. They were not in range of any cell towers there in the mountains, but with the direct-seeking mode, he was able to locate the tracking coin. “He’s in the sanctuary.”

They rushed along the path, arriving at the entrance to the monastery building only to find the front door ajar. Candles flickered here and there. A small fire burned in a stone hearth, but there was no sign of Ushi-Oni. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“I don’t like it,” the lieutenant said. “It’s too quiet.”

“Where are the priests?” one of the men asked.

Nagano couldn’t answer that. Some of the smaller shrines were sparsely attended or even left alone, but the sanctuary and the candles told him this one was occupied. He clicked off the safety on his pistol. “We can only assume the worst.”

The lieutenant nodded. “Which way?”

Nagano checked the scanner. The red dot blinked steady and still. “He’s in the back. Let’s go.”

They moved down the hall and came upon the body of another priest. He lay in a pool of blood just inside one of the doors. They found three more in the next room. Two more bodies and a pair of ransacked rooms confirmed that Ushi-Oni was on a killing spree.

Nagano paused and made a slashing motion across his neck. All thoughts of taking Ushi-Oni alive had vanished. They would shoot him on sight. If he lived, so be it. If he didn’t… he would be getting what he deserved.

Nagano crept forward. They were nearing the end of the hall. The flashing indicator on Nagano’s screen told them Ushi-Oni was in the room on the left.

For the first time, Nagano could hear movement. He braced himself, took a deep breath and then lunged forward, kicking the door open.

He saw a figure dressed in black who was hunched over a desk. He raised his weapon and was about to fire when the figure turned. It wasn’t the face of a killer but another of the elderly priests.

The man was tied to the chair with an electrical cord. On the desk in front of the prisoner, sitting on a folded white garment, was a tiny circular object with a hole in the middle. The tracking coin.

Realization came too late. A shout of pain from behind him confirmed it.

Nagano spun in time to see the flash of a sword decapitate his lieutenant and take the arm off of another of the men.

The third officer was already on the ground, a throwing knife sticking out of his back.

Nagano fired once but missed and the bullet buried itself uselessly in the wall. The flashing sword hit the side of the pistol before Nagano could fire again. It took off the tips of his fingers and knocked the gun across the room.

Nagano dove for the weapon, trying to grasp it with his right hand, but Ushi-Oni was faster. A kick to the ribs sent Nagano over onto his side. He wound up against the desk with the point of the ancient sword pressed up against his neck.

He froze as the Demon stared down at him. He expected to be run through at any second, but instead Ushi-Oni laughed and held him there like an insect under a pin.

“Looking for this?” Ushi-Oni said, as he picked up the tracking coin.

Nagano said nothing. He was grasping his hand to stop the bleeding and desperately thinking of a way to reach the pistol. The truth was, any movement would split the skin of his throat.

Ushi-Oni twisted the sword a fraction and blood began to trickle down Nagano’s neck. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you following me? I saw you below me on the switchback road. I waited for you at the gas station and watched as you placed that beacon on my car. I must admit, it made me wonder how you had been tracking me in the first place. Then I found your little coin.”

As Oni spoke, he held the coin is his hand. “Close,” he added. “Very, very close. But it’s not quite as heavy as the real thing.”

He flung it at Nagano, hitting him in the face.

“Go ahead and kill me,” Nagano said. “It won’t save you. You slaughter monks and policemen. You’ll have nowhere to hide after this. Not now that your face is known.”

Instead of killing him, Ushi-Oni crouched and picked up the shock stick, testing its weight in his free hand. “Once they see what you do,” he said, “they’ll forget all about me.”

With that, he jammed the shock stick into Nagano’s chest and sent a powerful wave of electricity through him. A second wave followed and then a third. Nagano couldn’t do anything but spasm with each shock and try to endure the pain.

He lasted several minutes and then his world faded mercifully to black.