Man With No Name: A Nanashi Novella - Plot & Excerpts
Nanashi drove because Koma was far too shaken by contemplating his possible fate once they returned to the city. Haru tended Amida in the back seat. Amida’s suit was tattered. He’d broken his arm in the fall. His nose was crushed into a jellified lump. He’d bled so severely blood coagulated in a bib on his chest, caked his face like a rubber mask. He moaned whenever Nanashi changed lanes too quickly, or hit a bump, or touched the radio volume. Koma moaned too. Jiki and Mizo were stuck in the Honda with Muzaki’s mutilated corpse. Mizo was driving. His headlights trailed a few car-lengths back and Nanashi distracted himself from fantasies of impending doom by speculating about the current conversation going on in the Honda. They, being idiots, meant this line of conjecture didn’t go far. The last he’d seen them, the two were laughing hysterically, gore soaking their clothes. Jiki had made a comment that provoked Mizo into chasing him around with the axe until Koma screamed that he was going to have their fingers cut off if they didn’t shut the fuck up.
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