"You think that's what they are?"

"Sure act like it. Stone killers with silencers. That says. .h.i.t men to me."

Darryl couldn't argue with that. "But who hired them?"

"The f.u.c.k I I know?" know?"

"Yeah. Right. Look, we either gotta get outta here-with Hank if he's alive, without him if he ain't."

Menck shook his head and moved to the window. "f.u.c.k Hank. Probably as dead as these guys." He touched his bandaged scalp. "My head's killing me and I feel like I'm gonna puke. I'm outta here."

Darryl followed him, knowing exactly how he felt. They were on the first floor. If they could get the window open, it was only a short drop to the backyard. Real tempting.

As Menck started lifting the sash, Darryl checked out the yard. He froze when he saw the lone black figure standing maybe fifty feet away. Couldn't make out any features.

"Someone's out there."

Menck stopped and stared. "The f.u.c.k is he?"

"One of the hit men?" Darryl said, but didn't really believe it.

Something about the guy sent a deep chill through Darryl. He didn't seem to be holding a weapon or anything. He just stood there with his head thrown back, his legs spread, and his arms angled out from his body. He looked like he was praying, but for some odd reason he made Darryl think of an antenna-but what kind of signal he was picking up was anyone's guess.

He might be lots worse than one of the hit men.

"Must have put an extra guy outside to make sure no one escapes. They want to kill us all. s.h.i.t!"

"We gotta get Hank."

Menck turned from the window and headed for the door. "You get Hank while I get out."

Darryl grabbed his arm. "Hey. We're Kickers, man. We stick together. I'm gonna go find Hank. You want to face him later after you ran out on him, fine. Not me."

Menck looked at the ceiling, then said, "f.u.c.k. All right. Let's find him."

Darryl peeked out the door. Nothing moving. The main staircase was only a few dozen feet down and across the hall.

But the hall was the last place Darryl wanted to be. He wanted to stay in this tiny room till morning, till he and Menck were the only ones left in the building, then sneak away.

But Hank was the man, the boss, the primo Kicker. Darryl had to find him.

"Okay. Let's go!"

Repressing a whimper of terror, he hurried across the hall in a crouch and into the recess of the stairway.

Made it.

With Menck close behind he ran up the first flight but stopped at the bottom of the second. A couple of guys lay sprawled on the stairs. Dead?

Then one of them said, "Darryl? That you?"

A Kicker. He hurried up to them. He didn't know their names, but knew they were hurt.

"Where's Hank?"

The guy jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Still looking."

Hank alive. Okay. Now to find him.

"How is it up there?"

"I think we got the floor to ourselves now. How's it downstairs?"

Don't ask, Darryl thought, but said, "Quiet. Hey, I'm gonna find Hank. You guys sit tight."

"Like we have a choice?"

He motioned Menck to follow him. They found dead Kickers at the top of the steps and dead monks in the smoky hall, but no sign of Hank. He coughed and looked around. Smoke was pouring from one of the doors down the hall.

"Hank?" he said softly. A little louder: "Hank?"

Someone stepped out of a door near the other end of the hall and waved them forward. By the time they got there, Hank and half a dozen other Kickers, including Jantz and his chainsaw-his very b.l.o.o.d.y chainsaw-were gathered outside the door, waiting.

"What's burning?" Hank was saying, waving at the smoke as they came up. He smiled at Darryl and Menck. "Hey, guys. We pretty much own the floor, but we need reinforcements."

Menck shook his head. "We're it, I'm afraid."

Hank's eyes widened. "What? What happened?"

Darryl gave him a quick rundown about the killer monks and the arrows and the hit men.

"Silencers?" Hank said.

"Yeah." Darryl looked around. "Where're the others?"

Hank looked at him. "Crazy f.u.c.king monks." He shook his head. "s.h.i.t."

"My sentiments exactly," Menck said. "This whole night has turned to s.h.i.t. Let's get out of here."

Hank shook his head. "Only two more rooms to search. She's got to be in one of them."

He started across the hall with everyone following him. He kicked open a door, then stepped back.

"Finally!" he said.

Darryl looked over his shoulder and saw Dawn lying on the floor. Four candles burned around her, and on the floor before her lay a j.a.panese sword. Darryl couldn't tell if it was the the sword because it was sheathed in a curved scabbard. sword because it was sheathed in a curved scabbard.

Hank checked behind the door through the hinge s.p.a.ce before stepping in. He went straight to the sword and half pulled it from its scabbard. Darryl saw the moth-eaten metal and knew they'd found it.

"Bingo," Hank said.

He slammed it back into the scabbard and tossed it to Menck. He knelt next to Dawn and scooped her up in his arms, then hoisted her over his shoulder where she hung like a rag doll. When he turned to them, his face was grim.

"They better not have hurt this baby."

Or what? Darryl thought. They're all dead.

But he said nothing.

"We're going home," Hank said when he reached the hall-which was smokier than ever.

Darryl didn't know if he'd ever heard sweeter words. But they still had to get by the hit men.

Hank nodded to Jantz. "You and the others take point, see if we're clear ahead. Darryl-you and Menck cover the rear."

As Jantz and the rest moved off toward the staircase, Hank reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a pistol. He handed it to Darryl.

"Know how to use this?"

Darryl had done some hunting in his day, but with a rifle, never a pistol. Still, with all the s.h.i.t that was going down here, he wasn't about to let a gun slip through his fingers.

"You betcha."

He took it. A snub-nose, six-shot revolver. He didn't know what caliber, and didn't care. All that mattered was that it fired when he pulled the trigger.

Down the hall, flames were licking from one of the doorways, and the smoke was getting worse. Jantz and the rest were already at the stairs. Hank started after them with Dawn. Darryl and Menck followed Hank.

"All we gotta do, man," he whispered to Menck, "is make it through the front door and we're home free."

Menck had the sword on his shoulder like a rifle. "We ain't there yet, my man. Not until-"

His words cut off in a gurgle. Darryl whipped around and saw Menck's mouth wide open and his arms spread like he was belting out the last note of a song. But the sword was flying through the air, his eyes were bulging, and it looked like he had a second mouth under his chin, wide open, and spitting blood.

And behind him, a shadow in black, pulling a b.l.o.o.d.y knife away from Menck's throat.

"f.u.c.k!" Darryl shouted, raising the pistol and firing as Menck's knees gave way.

The j.a.p's head jerked back in a spray of red and he went down.

I hit him! Darryl thought. G.o.d d.a.m.n, first time I ever shot a pistol and I hit the f.u.c.ker!

But Menck-poor Menck was a goner. Menck was gone gone.

"What the f.u.c.k?" Hank had stopped and turned. He looked at Darryl, then Menck, then Darryl again. "s.h.i.t! Keep moving!"

Leave Menck-just like that?

"But-"

"We can't help him. Cover me, Darryl." He looked around. "Hey, where's the sword?"

He pointed toward the dim smoky hall behind them. "Back there somewhere. Want me to-?"

"Leave it for now. We'll send somebody back. Just cover my a.s.s till we get out of here."

Darryl did just that, walking backward, gun swinging left and right, all the way to the stairway. They found Jantz waiting at the bottom with the two wounded and the rest.

Hank said, "Jantz-the sword's still up there, in the hall. Take someone and go get it. Don't worry. Nothing moving up there. The rest of you come with me."

As Jantz and another Kicker hurried upstairs, Darryl peeked up and down the hall, then longingly at the entrance directly across from them. Twenty feet of exposure and they were outta here.

He thought he saw a flicker of movement in one of the doorways but it didn't repeat.

He motioned to Hank and the others behind him. "All clear. Let's move!"

Holding his breath, waiting for the silent bullet that would end everything, he scurried across the hall and into the entrance recess.

Made it!

The rest made it as well. He held the door for Hank and Dawn, then started for the cars. They all stopped when they saw the bodies. All the guys who had been wounded in the first attack were dead.

"s.h.i.t!" Hank said. "Shot down like dogs."

Darryl couldn't look. He made a beeline for the cars.

"Find us some wheels and make tracks," Hank said behind him. "Jantz can follow."

Don't have to tell me twice, Darryl thought.

It must be on the second floor, Hideo thought. If it is here at all.

No-no negative thinking. The caller had been correct about the Kakureta Kao, and he would be correct about the katana as well. They simply had to find it. Only a matter of time.

He stood in the last room at the end of the first-floor hallway with Kenji and Ryo. They had run into no more opposition since Goro's death. Now it was time to move upstairs. Who knew what they would find there?

He was stepping out into the hall when he caught a flash of movement by the main stairs. Monks or members of the rival cult, he could not say. He stepped back and motioned the yakuza to be still.

And then he clearly heard someone say in English: "... the sword's still up there, in the hall. Take someone and go get it. Don't worry. Nothing moving up there. The rest of you come with me."

His heart leaped. Still up there Still up there... The katana was almost within his grasp.