Source

To heal their broken hearts, Kazuki and Hotaru must journey to the centre of the darkness.

[Author's note: this story takes place about thirty years after the Outbreak, and a year after the story Yosemite, in the final section of Blood Sun Rising. It should be read as a coda to the other Darkpenn HOTD stories rather than as a part of the series.]

Hotaru Tatagi pulled the heavy coat more closely around her, and brushed snowflakes and dust from her eyes.

"According to this, there is a village about a mile further along this road," said Kazuki Marikawa, on the horse next to her. "No way of knowing if it's still standing, or clear, of course. But it would be good to have a night under a roof." He folded the old map he had been reading and replaced it in the saddlebag of the horse that carried most of their supplies.

Hotaru nodded. They started along the road again, through a landscape of bare ground, stunted trees, rocks, and drifts of snow-melt slush. And this was summer.

We don't talk much these days, Hotaru reflected as they rode. She glanced at Kazuki. He caught her eye and smiled. She tried to smile back but couldn't really manage it. It's not that we don't like each other. Damn, I love him more than ever. Just not much to say. Now.

They eventually came to the village. There wasn't much of it left, just one little house with a broken-down barn. A sliver of smoke drifted reluctantly from the chimney. They dismounted and went to the door. They knocked.

Slowly, the door opened. There was a man, maybe in his mid-sixties, pointing a pistol at them. "Hi," said Kazuki. The man's eyes flicked towards him.

In a single movement, Hotaru snatched the pistol from the man's grasp.

The man stared at his empty hand. "Huh," he said in English. "Son of a bitch."

"We're not here to hurt you or rob you," said Kazuki, in the same language. "Just travellers, looking for a place to spend the night, out of the weather."

Hotaru handed the gun back to the man. "Well, in that case, I suppose you should come in," he said. "You can put your horses in the barn, there's feed for them there."

Hotaru took the three horses away as Kazuki entered the little house. The doors and windows, he noted, had been fortified. Aside from that, the place was filled with books. Kazuki glanced at an open book, one which the man had probably been reading. Labyrinths. Jorge Luis Borges.

"You don't look like you're locals," said the man, peering at him through taped-together spectacles.

"We're Japanese," said Kazuki. "We learned some English when we travelled to America, stayed there for a while. That was a couple of years ago. We have some American friends who live in Japan now, so I speak English with them sometimes."

"Your quick-handed travelling companion, does she speak?"

"She is my wife. And yes, she speaks. When she needs to. But I was not expecting to be speaking English here, since we are in Nepal, according to our map. Is that right?"

Hotaru entered. She was carrying the saddlebags and packs with their supplies.

"It is," said the man. "Strange place to be travelling, though. You're the first people I've seen from outside this area in many years. My name is Johnson, by the way. People used to call me Professor Johnson, but that was a very long time ago."

Kazuki introduced himself and Hotaru, taking some food from the saddlebags and saying to Johnson that they would be glad to share what they had with him in return for a place to sleep and the warmth of the fire. As they ate, Kazuki said: "It's surprising to find anyone here. Let alone someone with a library."

The man shrugged. "In my younger days, I was a teacher," he said. "I taught history and literature at a university in England, and then moved to India, to a town called Nagpur, in central India, because I married a woman who came from there. She was killed when … everything happened. As I believe everyone in India was. Same for Pakistan and Bangladesh. You're probably too young to understand the idea of millions and millions of people, but let me tell you, India used to be so damn crowded it made you crazy, you couldn't walk ten feet in a straight line without bumping into someone. Now it's completely empty, except for … them. And there are far fewer of them then there used to be. They started to turn on each other, I think. But there are still some around. More than enough to be dangerous."

"No human survivors?" said Kazuki.

"None that I was able to find. After a lot of years of looking for people, staying on the move, I eventually drifted here. The zombies don't like the mountains, apparently. There are a few people who live up here in villages, occasionally I see them, maybe do some trading. What's the situation in the rest of the world?"

Kazuki outlined what was happening in Japan, America, and China, as much as they knew of it.

"Sounds like you're doing alright," said the man. "Which raises the question: why are you here?"

"We're looking for something," said Kazuki.

"In Nepal?" said the man. "What could you possibly expect to find in Nepal?"

"The Source," said Hotaru.

A year ago

Sachiko Takagi, her husband James Fraser, Satsuki Kiromiri, and Kazuki were sitting in a building in Osaka, in a large meeting room. Much of the city was still deserted but a group of survivors had established themselves in one area, setting up some saya-mills for electricity. Sachiko had run a line to the building they were now in, enough for lights and basic power. Osaka had been outside the EMP area, and was one of the cities that had become empty of humans and zombies soon after the Outbreak, now thirty years ago.

The building had once been the headquarters of the Nippon Media Service. Some parts of the equipment had become too corroded to use, but other parts, once power was supplied, started up again with scarcely a problem. It had even proved compatible, more or less, with most of the records, stored on disk, that Fraser has retrieved from what was left of the Forrestal.

Kazuki had arrived a half-hour before; the others had been there, working, for a week.

"Please allow me to thank you for your kind notes to Hotaru and I," he said to the others.

"Well, let's hope there is never a need for any such notes again," said Satsuki.

Kazuki looked at the piles of reports, photographs, printouts, maps and faded newspapers spread over the table. "This is quite an accomplishment," he said.

"To tell the truth, when you first asked us about it I didn't know if it was even possible," said Sachiko. "But once we got into it, the pieces started coming together."

"These gals love the research and the tech," said Fraser. "Once upon a time, we called them nerds."

"A badge I always wore with pride," said Satsuki, with a smile.

Sachiko laughed. "Anyway, Kaz, the nerds – and my dear husband here – have come up with an answer for you, we think," she said. "A rough one, at least." She pointed to a pile of faded news reports. "Now, everyone thinks that the Outbreak happened at the same time in every part of the world. It turns out that that is not exactly true. If we take Z-day in Japan as a start date, the first reports of zombie attacks – although they were not recognised as that at the time – happened more than two weeks before. Specifically, Z-16."

"We're going on news reports that were pretty sketchy," added Satsuki. "Partly because they were from a remote part of the world, and partly because people didn't understand what was going on. It was a few days after that – Z-13 – that there were the first reports from a country with a passably sophisticated news service. That was northern India, and there were reports from Pakistan, and from Tibet, through the Chinese news service, at about that time. As far as we can tell, those reports came from contagion – zombies infecting people – rather than people turning."

"That tallies with the first news reports we heard on the Forrestal," said Fraser. "There wasn't much concern at the time, it was a pretty unstable part of the world in any case."

"Once it hit India, it started moving fast," said Satsuki. "It had been a very big country, over a billion people. Some estimates were a hundred million people dead or turned by Z-10.

"It was about Z-10 that there began to be reports of other outbreaks in other part of the world. Most countries had declared a quarantine of India by that time, and in any case they started occurring in places that couldn't have been reached by contagion."

"Turkey, Ethiopia, Russia reported outbreaks on Z-10," said Fraser. "On Z-8, South Africa and France. Z-4, Canada, the US, Scotland, northern China. Z-day, Australia, Brazil, New Zealand … and, as you know, Japan.

"And also the first case on the Forrestal. For several days after that, we were still receiving messages of other outbreaks around the world, as well as contagion spread. By Z+4, all electronic communication around the world had effectively ceased."

"And as you know, ever since the initial period there has been a trickle of people turning, for no apparent reason," said Sachiko. "Because communications are limited, we don't know much about that, although there are continuing reports. For a long time, we thought the problem in Japan had ended because all the zombies here had been destroyed, but that turned out to not be the case."

"No," said Kazuki. "Not the case."

The others exchanged glances.

Sachiko continued: "If you co-ordinate the times and locations of the outbreaks, you get something like this." She spread a large map of the world across the table. Over it had been drawn a series of rough concentric circles, describing the spread of the outbreaks.

"And you can see, very approximately, where the centre is," said Satsuki.

Kazuki leaned forward to see. But Sachiko put her hand on his arm.

"Kazuki Marikawa," she said to him softly. "You and Hotaru Tatagi are my very good friends. I have to ask: are you sure this is something you want to know?"

He was silent for a long moment. "We do not want to know," he said. "We need to know."

Sachiko nodded. "Then we can tell you," she said, "that the first reports were from a city called Kathmandu, which was not far from the northern border of India. The reports indicate that the contagion came from somewhere north of the city."

"Which means that the Source is – " said Satsuki.

"Nepal," said Kazuki.

Now

Hotaru was asleep, wrapped in blankets by the fire. Kazuki and Johnson were sitting at the little table, talking.

"Sounds like you've had some interesting travels, the two of you," Johnson was saying. "And you've been together for several years now. I'm surprised you don't have any kids."

"We … did … have one," said Kazuki.

Johnson nodded. "Sometimes, it seems that the only thing the world has plenty of now is ways to die," he said.

"Maybe," said Kazuki. "But it only takes one. Johnson, do you know this area? We came through the city of Kathmandu. Most of it was destroyed, what was left was completely empty. What do you know about it?"

Johnson considered. "Kathmandu," he mused. "The first news reports I heard were from there. The first reports of deaths, but the people there said that the first zombies came from further into Nepal. The thing is, there isn't much in Nepal. As you have probably discovered by now. Little villages, some farms. There had been a lot of monasteries, once, but all the ones I've seen had been destroyed. Except … well, no, that wouldn't be any use to you … "

"Go on," said Kazuki.

Johnson got up and searched through his books until he found the one he was looking for. It was a very dusty book, a history of the country. He found the picture he was looking for: a hand-drawn illustration of an old building, perched on a cliff, with walls of mud-brick and stone.

"It was quite a few years ago," he said. "I was coming back from a trading trip, but I had taken a different road than usual. In the distance, I saw this building. I was a long way away, but I remember being surprised that it looked like it was entirely intact."

"Can you draw us a map showing how to get there?"

"I can do better than that, son. I can take you there myself. I have a good horse and I'm not too old to ride."

Kazuki stared at him.

"Look at it this way," said Johnson. "You say you're looking for the Source. I'm sure you have good reasons to think that it's here, in Nepal. I want to find it just as much as you do, I think. We all lost … too much."

Kazuki considered. Eventually, he said: "Very well, Professor Johnson."

It took them four days of riding to reach the monastery. As Johnson had said, it looked remarkably intact.

"Maybe that's why," said Johnson. He pointed at a deep ravine that ran entirely around the hill on which the building stood. There was no sign of a bridge or any other means of crossing. To climb up the side of the cliff looked impossible.

"We have ropes long enough to reach the other side, and a grappling hook," said Kazuki. "But it's too far to throw it."

"I have an idea," said Hotaru.

She began to dismantle one of the shotguns, and then began to take apart a dozen cartridges, pouring the powder into an empty can.

"You know what she's doing?" said Johnson to Kazuki.

"No," said Kazuki. "But I've learned to trust her abilities. And her instincts." The two men sat down to watch her work.

After a while, she was finished. The grappling hook, a small one on which the hooks snapped into position, was braced in the barrel of the shotgun, attached to a rope. The other end of the barrel was in the can with the powder, and the whole mechanism had rocks packed around it.

"I get it," said Johnson. "A sort of mortar to fire it. She's ingenious, I have to say. Not especially pretty, as women go, but obviously clever and strong."

"You know," said Kazuki, "I have always thought that she is beautiful. I have never understood why other people don't see it."

Hotaru lit the fuse and came over to them. "Might be a good idea if we hid behind those rocks," she said. "Just in case."

They did so. The fuse reached the can, and there was an explosion. The shotgun barrel split apart, but the hook went sailing across the ravine, trailing the rope. It hit the rocky other side. It bounced, slid … and then held.

"Remarkable," said Johnson. "Still, I can't say that it looks very secure."

"Once I have climbed over, I will find a better place for it," said Hotaru. She tied the end of the rope to an outcrop of rock.

"Long way," said Johnson.

Hotaru shrugged. She tied another rope around her waist, so that she could create a pulley system once she was on the other side.

She launched herself onto the rope, into space.

"You know," said Johnson to Kazuki, "once upon a time it was considered the duty of men to do the dangerous things. Women sat on the sidelines. Fainted sometimes."

"Whoever said that," said Kazuki, "had obviously never met my wife. And obviously they had never tried to stop her doing exactly what she will do."

"Obviously," agreed Johnson.

A few inches at a time, with her legs wrapped around the rope and pulling herself along with her arms, Hotaru moved along the rope. Eventually, she reached the other side. Johnson and Kazuki watched her move the hook into a more secure position and brace it with rocks.

They rigged up a pulley system, so they could pull Johnson across. Eventually, the three of them were on the far side. They had left most of their supplies with the horses, carrying only a little food and their weapons.

They began to walk towards the monastery, up a rise.

Hotaru stopped. She looked around.

"Zombies?" whispered Kazuki, unslinging his automatic rifle.

"No," said Hotaru. "There are no zombies here. But there is … the smell of them. Hard to explain."

"There is no need to explain," said Kazuki. "I have always trusted you in matters like this."

"Have we come to the right place, do you think?" said Johnson.

"Yes," said Hotaru. "We have."

They came to the wall of the monastery. There did not appear to be an entrance. They began to walk along the wall.

"Odd," said Kazuki.

Johnson had been reading his book about the area. "According to this," he said, "some of these monasteries were designed to be separate from the world. I'd always thought that that sort of thing was just a metaphor, but in this case maybe it's literal."

"What sort of monastery is it?" said Kazuki. "What sort of religion?"

"Who knows?" said Johnson. "Out here, in this part of the world, things get all mixed up. Maybe Buddhist, maybe Hindu, there's plenty of Christian, Moslem and even Hebrew pieces in the mix. Throughout history, a lot of conquerors have passed this way, from Alexander the Great to Genghis Khan. Most have left some sort of mark. I guess those names don't mean much to you, all that was a very long time before the Outbreak, a long time before you were born."

"Actually, we were taught some history in school," said Kazuki. "We had some very good teachers, and plenty of books. There is even a sort of university in Japan now, we call it the New School. The principal, Saya Tagaki – who is like an aunt to us – believes that just knowing about technology and things like that is not enough. She says that people also need to know some history. Understand the back story."

"Those who forget history," said Johnson, "usually end up repeating it. Making the same mistakes again."

"Knowledge is important, yes," said Hotaru. "And so is courage. But they are not what really matters."

Johnson gave a little laugh. "A great deal of wisdom from young heads," he said.

"Wisdom," said Hotaru, "often grows from tears."

They walked for several hours. Eventually, they reached the point where they had started.

"Huh, no door," said Johnson.

"But there is this," said Hotaru. She pointed to a small crack in the wall, at ground level. Just large enough to squeeze through, maybe.

"Strange we didn't see that before," said Johnson.

"Perhaps," said Kazuki, "it was not there before."

Hotaru was already on her hands and knees, wriggling her way through. Johnson and Kazuki followed.

They came out in a passage, which led to a large, decrepit hall. Empty.

"We're close," said Hotaru. "Very close."

There was a series of doors leading off the hall. "Which one?" said Kazuki.

"That one," said Hotaru, pointing. "That's what she tells me."

"Who?" said Johnson. But Hotaru and Kazuki were already moving, drawing their guns.

They entered the room.

It was full of scrolls. Rolls of paper, in piles to the ceiling. Yellowed, dusty, some of them ancient. And in the middle of the room, at a little table, sat a very old man, wearing the tattered robes of a monk.

He peered at them, as if he was not sure they were real.

"So," he said. "You have come at last."

"Yes," said Hotaru.

Johnson picked up one of the scrolls and opened it. It was a list of words, each the same length. But the words made no sense. It was as if each was no more than a random arrangement of letters.

"Tell us what is going on here," said Kazuki to the monk. "Or we kill you where you sit."

The monk gave a hoarse little laugh. "That would be a mercy," he said. "After all my years of praying for forgiveness, it would be a mercy."

Johnson picked up another scroll. It was much the same as the first.

"You will find nothing there that makes sense," said the monk to him. "And you will find, if you look for long enough, everything that makes sense. You will even find the name of God."

"And which god is that?" said Johnson.

The monk shrugged. "Any one," he said. "Every one. You see, this monastery was founded, many centuries ago, to find the true name of God. My order was even called the Brotherhood of the Word. We believed that by writing every possible combination of letters of a certain ancient alphabet, using a certain number of letters, we would eventually reveal it. A task which would take many men, such as myself, many centuries. And there would be many scrolls. Those you see here are only a small part. This monastery has many rooms, and each has many scrolls."

"There must be billions of words, then," said Kazuki.

"So many, the final tally was unknown," said the monk. "But we believed that when the task was complete, the world would end. We did not know how, but we believed it would. And we believed it was our duty to complete our task."

"Why would you do such a thing?" said Kazuki.

"It is what our order believed," said the monk. "Perhaps it was to purge the world for its sins. Perhaps it was to demonstrate our power. Perhaps … perhaps it was just to show how stupid men can be.

"And then, one day, years ago, the task was finished. The last word written. And it was only then that we understood what we had done. Perhaps we had not really believed that anything would happen. But it did.

"Slowly, all the other monks realised. Most killed themselves, others simply died of guilt and regret. Only I was left. To pray for forgiveness. Until you came."

"And who would forgive you?" said Johnson. "Who have you been praying to?"

The monk slowly shook his head. "If I ever knew," he said, "I know no longer."

"And the echoes of what you did continue," said Hotaru.

"And will continue," said the monk, "while the scrolls exist. While the name of God is written. Somewhere."

He stared at Hotaru. She took something from her pocket.

"So is that why you have come?" he said to her. "Because of the billions and billions of people dead? Countries, cultures, civilisations, deaths beyond counting?"

"No," said Hotaru. "I did not come for the billions. I came for one. She was only three years old when she turned."

Kazuki, listening to his wife, felt a tear run down his face. Even now, he could remember the weight of the gun as they had held it. Together. The sound of the shot. The silence in the room after the echoes had died away. The silence.

The monk nodded. "One," he said. "One life. So now you want your revenge, by taking my life. You are welcome to it."

"No," said Hotaru. "Not revenge."

Kazuki realised what she was holding. It was a flare.

She broke the top from it, and there was a shower of sparks, and then a red flame. She touched it to the nearest piles of scrolls. They caught immediately. Almost as if they wanted to burn.

The monk remained sitting at the table. He stared at the growing fire. He made no attempt to move.

"Oh no, you don't!" said Johnson. He pulled the monk from his chair and began to drag him towards the door. "Don't think you're going to get out of it that easy!"

As Johnson and Kazuki dragged the monk towards the crack in the wall, Hotaru went from room to room, lighting the scrolls. In a few minutes, the whole monastery seemed to be ablaze.

The four of them crawled through the crack in the wall. As the sky above them filled with smoke, they made it to the rope across the ravine.

Kazuki lifted his gun and pointed it at the monk. Then he lowered it. "The merciful thing to do," he said, "would be to kill you now. But I am not merciful. So you can continue to live with the knowledge of what you have done. You can continue with your prayers, if you still think anyone is listening. Maybe you will be lucky, and you will die soon, out here, alone. Maybe God will forgive you."

"Doubt it," said Hotaru. She began to climb back across the ravine, followed by Johnson and Kazuki. On the other side, they mounted their horses and rode away. They did not look back.

A year later

"Remarkable story," said Saya. She, Rei, Shizuka, Kazuki, Hotaru and Professor Johnson were sitting on the porch of the Maresato farmhouse.

"Remarkable might not be the right word," said Rei.

"You know, in the past year there hasn't been any reports of turning that I've heard of," said Shizuka. "Not here in Japan, not in America, and not in China, according to the regular communications. I hadn't thought about it until now."

Kazuki translated for Johnson, who could not speak Japanese. Johnson nodded. "Maybe it's just a coincidence," he said. "And that monk was just a crazy old man, one of many who had wasted their lives with meaningless scratchings."

"Yes, a coincidence," said Hotaru. She turned to Kazuki. She took his hand. "I believe," she said to him softly, "that I am ready to think about having another baby."

He put her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "I love you," he said.

"I know," she said. "And in the end, that is what matters."

END