formula that’ll let you do it.”
“Secret formula? What are you talking about?”
“One to use if you ever decide you want to get rid of everybody. It’s foolproof. You ready? This is it: DATURA.”
“DATURA?”
“DATURA.”
“DATURA,” repeated Kiku.
“Don’t forget it now. I promise you it’ll come in handy someday.”
Nearly all the dogs were napping in the shade of the apartment complex as Kiku approached. He had come in search of a puppy, one with long white hair to give to Hashi, who had always wanted a dog.
The pack noticed Kiku coming and began to snarl: seven in the entrance to one building, four lying in the grass in front, three on the second-story balcony, and two more that came running outof building D when they heard the others. They were all fairly small but, with fangs bared and hackles up, frightening enough. Worse, more and more kept coming. When a particularly tough-looking black dog came down the stairs of building C, the others scrambled to get out of its way. It was carrying something in its mouth that at first seemed to be a black rag, but Kiku soon realized it was a crow with the head bitten off. He decided he should keep an eye on this one. For a while the black dog eyed Kiku back, then seemed to lose interest and walked off around the corner of the building.
Kiku had noticed a puppy, a white one chewing on an old inner tube. Between him and the puppy, however, was a beautiful dog with a long white coat and floppy ears that appeared to be the mother; not a bad thing in itself since it meant the puppy too would probably be beautiful when it grew up, but it did present an obstacle. He studied the situation for a moment as he took out of his pockets the French bread and a bludgeon he’d made by wrapping a leather strap around a heavy piece of steel pipe. The puppy, having tired of the tube, tried to nose its way under its mother’s side, but when she pushed it off, it settled down for a nap with its face buried in her soft coat. Just as the puppy was beginning to doze, its tail wagging contentedly, Kiku tossed a piece of bread just out of reach of the mother. She hesitated, but before she could make up her mind, a small spotted dog darted out, without taking its eyes off Kiku, and pounced on the bread. As it raced off, the prize in its teeth, the mother gave a bark and set out in pursuit, as if to claim what was rightfully hers. At that instant, Kiku rushed forward and scooped up the puppy, which was about to follow its mother. He shoved the little dog under his shirt, tossed the remaining bread in the direction of some other dogs sitting in the entrance, and ran.
The struggling puppy scratched softly at Kiku’s chest as he glanced back over his shoulder. The rest of the pack, scrambling for the bread, didn’t seem to be following. Nevertheless, he ran as fast as he could, leaping through the bushes and wondering whether snakes could bite someone running at full speed. When he finally slowed to look back again, the apartment blocks were no bigger than boxes and the dogs were nowhere to be seen, but he still kept running. The puppy was whimpering under his shirt.
Suddenly, something struck his neck from behind. Everything went black and he fell, barely managing to catch himself on one elbow to keep from crushing the puppy. He heard a snarl just behind his ear and pain shot down his back, but for a moment Kiku had no idea what had happened. It wasn’t until the dog shook the fangs it had buried in his shoulder and neck that Kiku realized that he’d been bitten. With his face pinned against the ground, all he could see was a trickle of blood forming a pool beside his head. The sun seemed to melt into his wounds, setting them on fire.
After a moment, Kiku tried to get to his feet, but the dog forced its teeth deeper into his skin and he collapsed under the weight. He began to feel cold. The wounds were burning but he was covered with gooseflesh and starting to shiver. He was
“Secret formula? What are you talking about?”
“One to use if you ever decide you want to get rid of everybody. It’s foolproof. You ready? This is it: DATURA.”
“DATURA?”
“DATURA.”
“DATURA,” repeated Kiku.
“Don’t forget it now. I promise you it’ll come in handy someday.”
Nearly all the dogs were napping in the shade of the apartment complex as Kiku approached. He had come in search of a puppy, one with long white hair to give to Hashi, who had always wanted a dog.
The pack noticed Kiku coming and began to snarl: seven in the entrance to one building, four lying in the grass in front, three on the second-story balcony, and two more that came running outof building D when they heard the others. They were all fairly small but, with fangs bared and hackles up, frightening enough. Worse, more and more kept coming. When a particularly tough-looking black dog came down the stairs of building C, the others scrambled to get out of its way. It was carrying something in its mouth that at first seemed to be a black rag, but Kiku soon realized it was a crow with the head bitten off. He decided he should keep an eye on this one. For a while the black dog eyed Kiku back, then seemed to lose interest and walked off around the corner of the building.
Kiku had noticed a puppy, a white one chewing on an old inner tube. Between him and the puppy, however, was a beautiful dog with a long white coat and floppy ears that appeared to be the mother; not a bad thing in itself since it meant the puppy too would probably be beautiful when it grew up, but it did present an obstacle. He studied the situation for a moment as he took out of his pockets the French bread and a bludgeon he’d made by wrapping a leather strap around a heavy piece of steel pipe. The puppy, having tired of the tube, tried to nose its way under its mother’s side, but when she pushed it off, it settled down for a nap with its face buried in her soft coat. Just as the puppy was beginning to doze, its tail wagging contentedly, Kiku tossed a piece of bread just out of reach of the mother. She hesitated, but before she could make up her mind, a small spotted dog darted out, without taking its eyes off Kiku, and pounced on the bread. As it raced off, the prize in its teeth, the mother gave a bark and set out in pursuit, as if to claim what was rightfully hers. At that instant, Kiku rushed forward and scooped up the puppy, which was about to follow its mother. He shoved the little dog under his shirt, tossed the remaining bread in the direction of some other dogs sitting in the entrance, and ran.
The struggling puppy scratched softly at Kiku’s chest as he glanced back over his shoulder. The rest of the pack, scrambling for the bread, didn’t seem to be following. Nevertheless, he ran as fast as he could, leaping through the bushes and wondering whether snakes could bite someone running at full speed. When he finally slowed to look back again, the apartment blocks were no bigger than boxes and the dogs were nowhere to be seen, but he still kept running. The puppy was whimpering under his shirt.
Suddenly, something struck his neck from behind. Everything went black and he fell, barely managing to catch himself on one elbow to keep from crushing the puppy. He heard a snarl just behind his ear and pain shot down his back, but for a moment Kiku had no idea what had happened. It wasn’t until the dog shook the fangs it had buried in his shoulder and neck that Kiku realized that he’d been bitten. With his face pinned against the ground, all he could see was a trickle of blood forming a pool beside his head. The sun seemed to melt into his wounds, setting them on fire.
After a moment, Kiku tried to get to his feet, but the dog forced its teeth deeper into his skin and he collapsed under the weight. He began to feel cold. The wounds were burning but he was covered with gooseflesh and starting to shiver. He was
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