Chapter 1
The Shadow Riders
Rain dotted the surface of the land and spattered the leaves of the trees in the forest. The night sky hung low with a dark-gray blanket of clouds, as though at any moment it might tear open and spill down a deluge that would wipe all of the people from the USA. Sazz Witika felt no remorse at the thought. If Dakine, School Of Witchcraft vanished in a flood, erased from the earth by the fury of ancient gods or a mistreated mage, it would be better for her. Better, perhaps, for all of them.
She pushed her long, wet hair away from her face, fresh droplets of rain sliding under the collar of her shirt. Sazz knew she looked a mess, but this did not trouble her. After all, who would see her out here on the shore of the bay, at night, in the rain?
The storm had soaked through her school uniform and it clung uncomfortably to her. At first she had plucked at it, but now she had become used to the cloth plastered against her body. The weight of her sodden clothes dragged at her, but Sazz barely noticed. The rain fell and the wind made her shiver. No doubt this exposure would lead to a bad cold, but she was beyond caring.
Beyond caring about anything.
Sazz should have heard death's gentle taunting. She should have seen it hovering in the glow of the flickering lights. Sazz should have felt it drawing her closer to the abyss. She was just starting to consider her escape, when, at last, Sazz saw something that she absolutely was not expecting. At the bottom of the hill she turned west for a moment and then followed along the banks of a stream until she found a fallen tree that formed a natural bridge—large and solid enough to carry her weight as she traversed the stream's width. The walking was rough because the rain was coming down hard, but she settled into a rhythm that kept her pushing forward with firm conviction.
She did her best to stay cloaked under a cover of trees because she had no way of knowing whether she might be spotted by the swarm of creatures that had, just hours before, swept in and laid waste to the town where she had been staying. She was a survivor and, from the bloodstains left on the earth back in their village, it was clear to her that whoever had ordered the creatures to strike did not intend for there to be any survivors. Although manageable, the cold was persistent with its stinging rebuke, and it forced her to keep moving to stay warm. Sazz quietly pondered whether she was prepared, whether she would survive, whether she could shoulder the sorrows of her past while trudging through the rainy forest toward...
What?
There was no answer to that question.
At least for now.
She was being hunted.
Adrenaline pumped through Sazz's veins, made her heart pound and her breath rush as she darted between the trees and across the stream. Ducking behind a tree to catch her breath, she sucked in a deep lungful of cold air as she listened to the cries of the search party. Melting into the shadows, she blew into her cupped palms. The air had taken on a cold, nasty bite.
The mountain split open with the clap of a thousand thunders, and through the rupture a cyclone of living steam screamed skyward. Blazing, many-colored lightnings rode with the wind and water, like the groping fingers of an angry beast.
Blending a new body of air and black smoke, Sazz redoubled her efforts to outpace the main storm, the unthinkable reservoir of power she had loosed. The creatures rode with the blooming edge of the tempest, disintegrated and recomposed a hundred times in the wind's teeth. Jagged wounds of mountains, the pooled, dried blood of plateaus hurled beneath them with hideous speed, as incomprehensible and lethal as the gaze of a basilisk. On the way, she finds herself drawn into another world, one inhabited by unusual things.
The events that changed Sazz's life forever started on a hot Tuesday afternoon in June, a week before the start of the summer festivities. Sazz pulled the long black shawl closer, making certain her hair was covered and there was little to see of her face. Her heart beat so hard she was afraid anyone close would hear. Everything hinged on making them believe her when she reached the camp. The tin building was rusted and looked as if it might fall apart at any moment. A man came forward to meet her, looking solemn as a casket, another was wheeled ahead of her into the shade of the building. Fortunately the sun was setting and shadows fell around her, helping to make it more difficult to see her clearly.
Time seemed to slow down for Hunter. It naturally felt, as may be expected, obviously slower than he had felt in a long time, a matter usually of often times more at night than during the day. Hunter frowned and looked around suddenly. The oddest sensation had come to him- something he could not even hope to describe. It's like there's suddenly an extra person standing next to you, he thought, and he found himself looking around at everything. But he couldn't stop himself looking around, scanning left and right. His heart pounded and his stomach felt as if it had turned over. No, it's not just someone standing next to you. It's the missing one. It's the one I can't see, but feel them nearby.
He knew that what he was thinking didn't make any sense. It sounded completely mad. But that didn't stop him being certain that there was someone nearby that is apart from all the people who he could see.
He stared at the sunlight slanting in across the forrest, at the tiny specks of dust that shone in the still warm air. He could dimly hear the tired ticking of a bird in a tree. The dust appeared to hang in the air as if to prove that idea. The faint sounds of the bird rustling sounded longer, more drawn out. And just for a moment, through the shimmer of this oddly slowed-down, Hunter thought he saw a shape- the shape of someone moving in the shadows.
Dulin made a rude hand signal and glared at him.
"Nothing. Maybe you're right. Maybe it was just the heat." Hunter looked reluctantly at Dulin. Dulin never seemed to miss anything. He was the sort of man that never missed anything. "Anyway, I'm fine now," said Hunter. But Hunter wasn't fine at all, as he found out later.
It was still light outside, and normally he never went to his tent early, especially in the summer, but he felt quite tired. He was also looking forward to at least trying to get some proper sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well recently.
There were times Hunter dreamed of Blackrock Mountain and he paused in thought of it. All golden and lovely it blazed in the sunset. Mystery engulfed about it as clouds hung heavily around it, darkening the land. Hunter was breathless as he stood on that high peak and looked off over that hushed forest of unearthly immanence and he felt the bondage of the dream.
The mountain was part of the underworld: the boundaries were conjured into his world by magic, to separate it. Any life that touches the underworld, or is touched by it, is touching death.
He swallowed as he watched the fire burning in the camp, trying to recall as much of the dream as he could. Spellbound, he was horrified to think about the underworld and what part it played in the dreams he was having nightly. It was unimaginable, frightened eyes that had seen things no one else had ever seen before. As a log popped in the fire, making him flinch as he looked back into it. His lower lip began to tremble, and his eyes filled with tears that reflected the flickering flames, but he was not seeing the fire. Struggling to control his rising panic, Hunter did the only thing he could think of. When he had been confronted with fear in the past, he had learned to control it. There was strength in control. He did that now. Closing his eyes, he shut his fears away, blocked off the panic, and sought the calm within himself. He let his mind focus on the strength within himself. In the quiet of his mind, he blocked off his fears and confusion, and centered his thoughts on the strength of that peace. He would not let the underworld rule his dreams.
Sazz visualized sending her strength to him, extending it to his mind, lending him all of her strength and drawing him back, away from the darkness, the blackness of the underworld, to this world, to her.
Chapter 2
Shadow Riders
The life of a mercenary was so extraordinary that no one would dare to invent it. Hunter, as he was known to his friends, was very much a real person although he lives on chiefly as the myth he was transformed into. The H&MS Terror was a real ship. The events described here - for the most part - really happened, though they were later hushed up, especially by the authorities.
Hunter walked with a purpose, trying not to let on that he saw them pursuing him. There were the obvious reasons why.
The Shadow Riders have arrived and are attacking the planet!
He rounded the corner and glanced back. The creatures were still coming. The Shadow Riders wouldn't win any IQ tests, but they were tenacious trackers. Earth had over nineteen billion habitants over all. Not even in the top one hundred in terms of world-populations within the wide sprawling number of planets in the universe. But it was the biggest in population in the outer planets, by far.
The crew traversed the streets of Manhattan, only one thought came to Hunter. Unbelievable. Dead bodies riddled the streets and sidewalks. Also, giant creatures roamed the streets of Manhattan. Hunter even saw two drop pods, reminding him of oversized black caskets.
The Shadow Riders were gigantic creatures. Ten to twelve feet tall, and had more body mass than an aircar. Their bodies were made up of three parts: a head, thorax, and abdomen. The abdomen had two sets of short, tree-trunk-thick legs on each side. Angled upwards, the thorax had one set of long arms. Weapons, that shot bright green plasma, were attached to mid arm. The arms ended with three-digit pincer-hands, about the size of a human's.
Dark red, the head was about twice the size of a human's, with two short, deep-purple antenna popping out of the top. There was a mouth, no noticeable nose or ears. Two dark eyes, in the front, but under the antenna. Two palps, like meandering snakes, hung from its jaw, under the mouth.
Besides the weapons attached to their arms, the creatures' had pieces of shiny metal stuck to the sides of their heads. Perhaps neural links or some kind of communications, Dulin mentioned. Shiny metal outlined their abdomens and thorax area. Not full coverings, more like the edges covered in metal. Perhaps it was like jewelry. The part where feet went on the abdomen legs, the creatures wore shiny metal coverings, not much different than metal clogs. They clanked as they walked down the street. And the creature's thorax and abdomen were covered by a black carapaces.
They had ducked inside an abandoned shop. There were tinted windows so they could see the entire street without being seen.
"They are so gross looking!" Sazz whispered.
Dulin held up a finger to his lips.
Hunter agreed with both of them. They were gross and they did not know about their hearing abilities. Dulin opened one the windows slightly. Hunter did not understand why until he could hear it. Noise coming from the creatures. He thought it was their speech.
There was a woman hiding on this side of an aircar just a few feet away from the shop's entrance. Hammer tried to get to come into the shop, but she was frozen in her spot. The woman did not make any noise; she was holding her mouth with both hands.
Hunter stared at her, hoping she could keep it together. If she just stayed there the creatures would probably keep going down the street, not detecting her. But that did not happen.
She lowered her hands and stood up, shaking her head, and started running down the sidewalk, yelling, "I got to get home! I got to get home!"
An Shadow Riders soldier only had to take a few steps, and it grabbed the woman by her hair, lifting her off the ground. She screamed to let her go, but the soldier did not release her.
The creatures made more noise, like a hissing, and the creature that held her tossed her into the air. The other one fired its plasma-gun at her, hitting her, splitting the woman in half.
Then what the creatures did, Hunter did not expect. Each took a half of her body and ate it, spitting out the bones and clothes. That did not sit well with Hunter; he wanted to do something about it, but what could they do?
Twenty minutes later the Shadow Riders soldiers were down the street.
"You guys ready?" Dulin asked.
"Not really, but what can we do?" Hunter said.
They exited the shop and followed Dulin again. They went down several streets without seeing any of the Shadow Riders. All the while ships above them kept shooting at each other. If one was hit, on either side, the noise rang out for miles, then the wreckage landing rang out. Hunter was sure half the buildings of Manhattan were destroyed.
Plenty of people were moving, heading to shelter. Some were slow moving, stunned at all the violence.
Hunter only stared at them as he walked passed them. Nothing to do for them. He did try to tell a couple that seemed to be in shock, to hide in one of the stores. Blank stares and mumbles were their replies.
They were heading in the same direction to Brooklyn and Queen that sat to the east of the Manhattan.
Dulin stopped at a building's corner. He took a peek around the corner and he waved at them. "I'd say we got about a mile to go until my house!"
Only a mile was good news; Hunter felt really good they would make it. Then, from above, a maelstrom of noise. He glanced up and an Shadow Riders ship was clipped by a Shadow Warriors ship. Wreckage was falling practically on top of them.
"RUN!!" somebody screamed.
They followed Hammer as he ran directly across the street to Rheqat's Burger Joint, a popular place in Manhattan. He crashed through a joint's door, which did not impede him in the slightest. He fell, but got right back up. They entered and turned to watch the calamity outside. Hunter smelled the burgers, and they made his mouth water.
The alien ship crashed landed a city block away on the street, crushing several aircars. The ship did not blow up upon crashing though. But there was a fire and smoke.
"I hope those creatures fucking burn!" Sazz said.
Everyone agreed with the sentiment.
But they didn't burn. Or at least some didn't. Four Shadow Riders soldiers stumbled out of the wreckage. Three creatures hobbled a bit, but none seemed seriously injured. Watching them made Hunter wonder what their blood looked like.
The Shadow Riders soldiers quickly spread out. Two on each side of the street, plasma-guns at the ready. All coming their way!
Shit!
He just wanted to get to Dulin's bunker. Then they could regroup, come up with a plan. Wait for the Space Marines. Hunter wouldn't mind getting off this world. None of them, Sazz or Hammer, had ever been off this world but Planet Sesce, or any other planet for that matter, seemed like a good option right now.
"I would love to shoot the shit out of those creatures!" Sazz said.
Dulin chuckled. "Yes. I would say let's do it, but we don't know how well these pulse-rifles work against them."
"Let's not forget, they eat humans! We watched them do that!" Sazz said.
The horrible memory of that woman's legs enter that creature's mouth, and coming back nothing but bone, sent chills down Hunter's spine. Anger raged deep within him. Why are we hiding? Humans weren't supposed to be this weak.
Hunter had a grenade in his pockets. Dulin had held a backpack with the other one. Sazz had a plasma knife. Hammer and Dulin each had two pulse-rifles. Why were they scared? He thought about it, and something of a basic plan began to form.
"Guys, maybe we could make a stand," Hunter said as his fear melted away.
"How? We have no idea what those creatures can take?" Dulin said.
He pulled the grenade from his pocket and held it up. "Do you think a creature can handle this?"
"I doubt they could survive that grenade blast," he said. "Thermite blast grenades burn hotter than twenty-two hundred degrees Celsius."
Smiles popped on all their faces. Hunter felt good about their odds against the creatures.
"How can we get close enough?" Hammer said.
"We spread out," Hunter said. He turned to face the approaching Shadow Riders soldiers. "Hammer and Sazz, out the back door. One go left the other right. Go around the block. Cross the street and come back this way."
Sazz smiled again. "Okay. What about you and him?"
"Dulin stays here," Hunter said, grinning.
"And you?" Dulin asked.
"I am going to the roof. I'm the bait," he said.
"What?" Sazz said, squinting her eyes at him.
"Don't worry it'll work!" Hunter said.
Chapter 3
Rest and Recuperation
Hunter traversed the six flights of stairs rather quickly. He was on the roof now, and looking over the edge at the oncoming Shadow Riders soldiers.
Sazz and Hammer reached their spots on the other side of the street—opposite to each other.
Ships shot at each above him, but not as many as earlier. In the distance, Hunter saw the biggest mecha he'd ever seen. There were three of them. Outside the city limits. Each was the size of a big mountain. Maybe what he and his friends did here would not matter after those mega-mechas were finished with this city.
In his mind, he pushed his worry about the mega-mechas to the side. He could not worry about them. creatures were coming down the street right now and he wanted to kill them.
As the creatures approached, they checked aircars for people. They found a few and killed them on the spot. The Shadow Riders soldiers found a toddler in an aircar. A girl, passing around the corpse until it was all gone.
Once the Shadow Riders soldiers were close enough Hunter would chose the first creature to fire upon. Once he started, Hammer and Sazz would join him. Dulin would be there to steer the attack or even to call a retreat if need be.
Hunter aimed the pulse-rifle down at the street. Through the scope he eyed each creature and decided on the one in the very back, on his left side. Hammer's side. Yes, that one. He squeezed the trigger and the rifle sent off a round, hitting the intended target.
The creature was knocked sideways. More firing, Hammer and Sazz both shot at the downed creature. One of them shot the creature in the head, and it fell, dead. creature brains oozed out onto the street.
The other three creatures turned around. As they took their aim on Hammer and Sazz, Hunter shot one in the back, and it fell forward. Stunned not dead. The other two shot at Sazz, but missed high. Hammer fired at that creature that just fell forward, hitting it, and it appeared to be dead.
Sazz fired at one of the two that just fired at her. She missed. One fired at Hammer, hitting his leg with a plasma round. Screaming, he fell over; Hunter knew he would lose the leg.
Hunter watched as Hammer's lower leg was dissolving away.
Sazz fired at the other creature, hitting it. Hunter fired at it and hit it too, but not killing it. The creature that shot Hammer turned around looking for Hunter, firing, but missing high.
Hunter ducked. When he stood up and looked over the edge, he saw Sazz firing at both creatures.
One of the creatures that still lived, looked up for him. Hunter fired at him, missing. The creature returned fire, the plasma round went low, hitting the side of the building.
The one that just fired low, was searching for him, and the other creature was exchanging weapon fire with Sazz.
The two creatures huddled together, with their back together. They were hurt, but they weren't down.
Sazz fired at them, missing. Hunter watched as Dulin exited the burger joint below. He fired at the creatures with his rifle. Hunter joined in firing at them too. Die creatures! Die!
Pushing a button on the face, Dulin tossed his grenade at the creatures, and turned to run back inside, but fell, hitting his chin on the pavement.
The creatures, probably not sure what was just thrown at them, kept shooting, and shot both Sazz and Dulin. A plasma round was melting Dulin's left shoulder, and Sazz's right arm was melting down to the bone.
Then the grenade exploded.
"It seems you've become an expert in the hunt," Hunter grinned, laying in a bed across from Dulin and Sazz.
"I had quite a lucky morning, Dulin replied with a smirked expression.
"I don't know," Sazz chuckled. "I suppose it might be." The human lands were cold, suffering a new, frigid season, but her heart remained warm. She smiled, though her transition had been an agony, when she heard the sound of water splashing and saw the doctor moving toward them down through the hallway.
But a familiar sense of despair surfaced and held fast in her mind. How much of their agency's resources had they already burned up on this operation. How could they ever prevail over the dark, never-ending flood of Shadow Riders.
It didn't help that Hunter found a number of things about the room acutely unsettling. It wasn't the blood and death. Experience had long ago given him a sadly high tolerance for such things. What troubled him was an improbable confidence in his familiarity with what he was seeing. A confidence that he'd encountered the same distinguishing scenes—the general context and destruction—more than once before. And he couldn't help but feel that an obscure and shadowed figure from his past was reaching out, from somewhere far away, as if to drag him back to a place and time he wished never to revisit. Dark memories of frustration, failure, disgrace, and exile surged into his mind. Lost in thought, Hunter barely registered the doors opening and the hospital staff with the doctor walking into the room.
Chapter 4
More R & R
Snapped from his trance, Hunter noticed that at least a dozen people were buzzing around the room, frenzied, their ancient instincts awakened by the smell of blood.
'Morning boys and girl,' the doctor said as he studied each chart hanging at the end of everyones bed. Annoying voices. That, annoyance, seemed to be a theme in his life. He tried not to automatically hold it against whoever the man was. Some of his best friends were doctors, after all. Even if they were over-sized and used too many resources to be efficient, they were still good people. Maybe this fellow would be as well. Probably not, from the words that were being overheard. Hunter felt like Huntering a little, anger suddenly ripping through him. He must make things easier for this fellow it seemed, but most people at least asked if he would. Hopefully they would cut him a little slack because of the war. The most recent dire event, causing them to be there in the hospital. Even if he somehow survives, the truth he has been seeking for so long may not offer solace. For the destiny he has sought for so long may be the very thing that curses him to a life of eternal darkness and damnation...
There are creatures that live a shadow's breadth from our reality...They are the darkness and nightmares of an ancient evil humanity. And in that moment, when they swallowed a young girl's soul in their evil wake...
There was an energy, dark and ancient, that filled the area around them. Despite my instincts, I found it difficult to look away. Their commanding presence sucked me in as if an invisible cord were pulling me toward the creatures. It took all the strength I had, but I managed to resist the urging. I tried to lead them away from the camp compound. Hunter hesitated, and his stern eyes—eyes a strange hue—revealed a determination that chilled even more than the blast of cold rain that rushed over them. Something huge, dark and frightening suddenly and silently loomed out of the shadowed granite slab above them. Then the creatures came, and the darkness in the forest took on a deep, endless black that made Hunter's blood burn. He couldn't have said how long he stared at the darkness, hearing the grinding and bone-crushing of teeth, the sounds of overpowering evil.
Silent for a while, Hunter studied the face of the man who stood beside him. Muscular with a ragged mane of silver-white hair that fell slightly to his shoulders, Dulin seemed to have stepped out of another, more primitive age. His eyes were dark beneath a low, hard brow burned brown by years of living in the wild. His cheeks were sharp above a mouth deeply cast in a bronze frown. His broad shoulders, deep chest, and heavy arms were evidence of great strength but, Hunter had noticed before that Dulin seemed to possess a greater strength than was visible there. He had long suspected that Dulin's best, greatest, and truest strength was something he purposefully hid. He had always wondered why he hid so much of himself. The soldiers appeared
relaxed as they chatted among themselves.
"Vicious evil beasts, aren't they?" Dulin remarked, the words, spoken with ominous disaster.
"Yes," Hunter frowned, "utterly vicious."
He turned to others in the group, his face portrayed consternation. "What are we to do about them?" he asked, almost to himself. "They kill with venom long before they dismember their prey." He looked back. "Yes, and so we must therefore devise some type of ... There was the sensation of movement, of gliding flight. I realized my hand had drifted down to the hilt of my sword without my knowing it.
It was the central chamber of the cave the movement was just a blurry shadow for a few seconds, until my vision adjusted. Hunter quickly closed his eyes, trying to refocus. He knew that closing his eyes made little sense, given the perfect darkness of the vast chamber surrounding them, but it seemed to help. And he needed all the help he could get. I noticed my hands were no longer shaking, and I wondered when they had stopped.
Acting on a gut feeling, I slowly pivoted toward the enemy. There was only one way to deal with them——head on. Again the wind picked up, I could see the silhouette a faint red glow casting on the ground, it was dark, indistinct. He fought back the sense of horror that made bile rise, made his throat want to close up.
So much blood…
He waited, his pulse racing, his jaw grinding hard. And no matter how he fought against it, his mind began to fill with memories, flashing images he couldn't seem to forget.
Focus.
The creatures head was enormous, his black fur shining. His eyes were two dark orbs, glittering with a knowing intelligence. Not as dark as Hunter's eyes. Not as bottomless. But the pupils were large. His gaze seemed to almost look through him, not what he'd expected.
I waited until I saw the signal that everyone was in place before I turned to my second and commanded. "Move out. If it moves and it's not ours it dies." The entire process would take no more than twenty minutes and as I had commanded, nothing survived on the opposing forces.
Violence was not new in my life. We were spread across the forest edges, I looked sharply around. Pushing through the air that seems too thick to move through, worried about the consequences of the situation. My eyes scan the surrounding areas quite
unfamiliar with where we are. The trees are blocking out most of
the light.
Then, a vision caught his eye so startlingly where the darkness began that my gaze snapped upward to see the others.
By the time they marched along the wooden pier they were soaked through, their moods as dark as the sky.
Never before had I faced such a horrific beast.
It wailed and howled, limbs thrashing, claws at the ready to rip and shred anyone who dared approach. I circled, wary, fearful of getting too close to its razor sharp talons. Foul odors pecked at my nose like a murder of rotten crows on an all-bean diet. My stomach knotted in revulsion. I'd sniffed better corpses.
Still, there was no escaping what had to be done.
I crept forward, heart thundering against my ribs. It was now or never but yet I couldn't bring my leaden feet to carry me closer. The creature let loose an e`ardrum-shattering screech at my obvious hesitance, sensing weakness. The gurgled sound morphed into a laugh, spittle flung about with casual disregard while rainbows of spew glistened in the air. The thing stared with wide, brown eyes, amusement sparkling in their depths. It knew it had the better of me, and it reveled in the moment as the stench grew with every shallow breath. I could taste its rankness in the air as it soured on my tongue. It was only getting worse, so with trembling hands I inched forward at last, daring the creature's wrath. The time had come.
Chapter 5
Dark Forest
A soft indrawn breath behind him, almost a wheeze, made him turn back slightly. It was Sharokina, her pale eyes fixed on him. The whites were reddened slightly, she had been having those nighmares again.
It hit him then, suddenly. The one thing he had never dared to ask, in all their months of traveling. The thing he had tried so hard not to think about.
"You're going into the Dark Forest."
Hunter nodded. "As you knew I would."
Oh, yes, she had known it. On some deep, buried level where you hid knowledge you didn't want to deal with. Only now it was out in the open. Hunter would go into this Evil Forest.
"You think it's wise?" she asked quietly.
Hunter replied, "I think it's unavoidable."
Thunder echoed above and the earth shuddered beneath them.
Rain pelted Katherine's face with stinging needles. The soggy ground instantly began to wick into her cloak and the back of her dress.
Perfect, just perfect.
They arrived smack in the middle of a blinding rain storm. "Hunter!" she screamed, and she ran along the path that skirted near to the water's edge for a while, looking desperately around and stopping to listen half a dozen times in case she could hear anything. But she couldn't. They turned and ran like the wind all the way back to base camp.
Thunder clapped above their heads, threatening to drench them in another punishing downpour. The trees nearby rustled with fear as the wind shook golden leaves from quivering limbs.
Thunder rumbled above, threatening to release another torrent from the leaden skies.
The wind picked up once more, billowing Katherine's cloak around her like a wide sail on a turbulent sea. Streaks of lightning lit up the purple sky. They were standing in a clearing in what appeared to be a spring woods with vibrant green foliage, getting soaked to the bone.
"Let us move toward the village to find shelter," Hunter made a sweeping gesture with his arm in an attempt to herd his troops. "My lady is getting soaked."
"And we're not," Dulin replied with sarcasm as he marched past Hunter.
They walked through the woods, moving steadily toward the village in the distance. As the trees receded they came to a dirt road leading in the direction of the village. They were forced to keep to the grass at the edge of the road to maintain their footing. The rain had eased to a fine mist. It wasn't any less cold, but at least they could see in front of them.
Chapter 6
Hunting is Dangerous
It was a strange night, alternating between dark and light as the wind pushed the clouds across the full moon. In a dark moment, Sazz considered getting a torch, when suddenly the land was bathed in a silvery light. The moon was brighter than she'd ever seen, bouncing off from the lake, illuminating the path to the camp better than any firelight. Sazz shivered, and looked back at the lake, which was cut with a white path to the heavens. A tree had fallen recently by the shore. Tomorrow she'd have to cut it up for firewood. She put another log in the firepit and settled back to enjoy the warmth. The wind continued to roar. She heard her tent flaps waving. A tree branch knocked against the walls. She huddled over the flames. Finally, the rain came. The wind increased. The tree continued to knock. She was taken by the lake again. The fallen tree was gone. Maybe it had never been there, a trick of the light.
"So this is her then?' the youngest of the rangers spoke up. "She's just a woman, isn't she?"
"I suppose she is." Hunter said, his eyes twitching as he withheld a smile. "But she has a purpose." "Sazz's here because here is where I want her, Stan." Hunter slapped the young man on the back as he came between them. "The man we're hunting is dangerous. He's from one of the northern tribes, an effective raider. They say he was fierce on the battlefield, killed dozens of ours before we took him. They probably should have killed him there but, soldiers have their orders and their orders were bring him in alive, so they took him to the boss."
"And you think he's here?" Sazz asked.
"This is only camp within a three days walk from the city." the other man, the tattered, scared ranger, said this. "He doesn't know it's run by a Shadow Hunter."
Sazz turned to Hunter. "You said he was in a boat." "If he's in a boat, he doesn't need three days,"
Hunter looked at her. "He's already here."
She pulled her shawls around her tighter, she realised suddenly that she was shivering from the rain.
Someone moaned. Now Sazz really wanted to leave. She must have slept for a
little while, because the sky was clear and black, with a dusting of stars like
snowflakes. Wind rattled tree limbs, but that wasn't the sound that had woken her
up.
"SHH." The whispers continued.
Heart speeding, she turned her torch light on and swung the beam toward the
gurgle of water on the rocks, twisted it until the beam began to penetrate the
darkness, snow, dirt, and shadows, nothing unusual, except disembodied voices.
As far as she knew, only one creature moved without being seen, Ja'Seth, The
Evil One, sometimes called the Evil Shadow, and his faceless shadowspawn
creatures.
Sazz fled down the path, snow crunching under her boots and icy air shivering
into her lungs. Moans became shrieks and laughter. While the heat on the back
of her neck might have been terror-fueled imagination, the shadowspawns were
gaining, she'd survive a graze of their burning touch, but anything more would kill
her. There were ways to capture a shadowspawn, but there was no way to kill
one. Sazz ducked behind a rock, and finally ran into the woods, as branches
slapped her face and caught her coat in the thorns. She began pushing deeper
into the forest with only the hissing that hinted at how close the shadowspawns were behind her.
Freezing air stung her eyes, and her chest burned with cold and fear, a cramp
stabbed at her sides. Shadowspawn gleamed like wind whistling in a storm, closer
and closer. A tongue of invisible flame landed on her exposed cheek. She
screamed and pushed harder into the forest, and the burn on her cheek stung.
They formed a dark circle around her, and tendrils of blackness coiled toward her.
She darted between the shadow creatures, a rush of heat on her face like leaning
into an oven. They shrieked and pursued, but she could move faster through the
trees, brush, fallen logs than they could move. Kat dodged and jumped, fighting to
keep her wits and thoughts together, focused on getting past the next obstacle
rather than the snow and cold, or the fiery death that chased her. Perhaps she
could lead them to one of the heat-traps placed by the team, but she didn't know
where they were, and didn't know where she was after all the running in the forest.
The shadowspawns moaned and wept, closing in as she avoided a snow
covered rock, with heat billowing on the back of her neck. She hurtled over a log
and skidded at the edge of a cliff overlooking the river. Snow slipped under her
boots as she threw myself to her knees to stop before falling over the edge of the
rim. Her flashlight wasn't so lucky. It clattered from her hands and plummeted into
the river with a splash. Wind gusted up from the water as she climbed to her feet.
The shadowspawns floated by the woods, ten or twelve of them, creatures twice
her height that were made of shadows and fire and smoke. They glided forward,
melting snow as they trapped her between them and the cliff edge over the river.
Their cries were of anger and hopelessness, ever burning fire. She glanced over
her shoulder, the woods a stretch of darkness and the river down below her and
nothing from behind her. If there were rocks or chunks of ice, she couldn't see
them. Drowning would be better end than burning up in a shadow creatures fire
forever.
"You won't have me." Sazz had said, her scream echoed.
Hunter looked over at her as she was just awaking up from a dream sleep of
hers. "So you were able to find the Evil One and his creatures," he asked.
Sazz
forced her eyelids open, and her heartbeat echoed in her ears, her thoughts grew
icy and fragmented, maybe it was her awakened consciousness that made Hunter
appear to smile at her.
Then she was gone, lost in the dream. Foggy thoughts trapped her in this
dream. Just as she began to drowse further into the dream, a deep voice beside
her said, "Sazz." She held her breath, waiting for the dream to end. Her eyes
snapped open as the situation crystallized. She sit up, tangled in the sleeping bag,
and her elbow bumped a cup that Hunter was holding out to offer her. The fire
seemed to close to her, and others gathered around them. Snow sparkled in
Hunter's hair from the moonlight, as freezing air hit the back of her throat with each
ragged breath. She clenched her jaw against her chattering teeth. Tremors
racked through her as she reached for the steaming cup Hunter was holding. He
didn't quite hide his shivers either, no coat or gloves meant he hadn't taken the
extra time to dress for the cold before coming over to her. Perhaps his concerns
was genuine after all, that he really did care about her, which seemed appealing
now that she thought about it.
So the woven population seemed to grow, two thousand had camped in a dip in
the land that night. It did little to ease the constant cut of the wind; icy fingers crept
through layers of fur and leather. Hunter closed his eyes and breathed out a long
sigh. He stared around the camp; "It has been so long, since my dreams began,
and now we are so close. I almost cannot believe it," Hunter said. "The beginning
of this Quest is close, and you have made this happen,"
Jar was saying, "it has
been so long, but I remembered..." His words faltered, they sat around the
clearing next to the fire and dranked until when it came time to sleep. A few of the
men glanced at them and the forest was so eerie quiet you could hear the waterfall
crashing on rocks a few yards south of them.
"Memory is a double-edged sword, Jar. It can keep you locked in a moment
that no longer exists," Hunter said. The focus of his eyes shifted, glazing as he
remembered events from long ago.
"That it is," said Jar quietly. Overhead the sky
was gray, clouds low and heavy. He stared straight ahead; half a dozen of his
men were about him, as well as Sazz and Dawn.
Sazz stamped her feet and blew on her hands. It was cold and damp, their
breath fogging before them. A heavy mist cloaked the ground, and she crouched
to scratch Hayden behind an ear; the hound leaned against her, nearly pushing
her over. With a groan Sazz turned and walked over to the fire pit, looking deeper
into the trees.
Hunter was deep into thought; he had to focus, the goal, the justification for all
that he had done. For all that he would do. He continued to stare at his hands.
The Evil One's approach had not come as a surprise. Sazz 'the Dreamer' had
woken a few hours ago, sweating and disoriented, and declared the coming of the
Evil One and his shadowspawn creatures. So they were ready, or ready as they
could be.
Chapter 7
Stretch and Scratch
The figures detached themselves from the dark corner. Like creatures crawling
out of a fog. The fog- I would have been disappointed if I had not seen it during
my stay in San Francisco, as it begin to snake its way down through the cliffs. For
the next few hours Hunter stood on the steps with Sazz at his side as each wolf came
forward to meet him.
"You have realized your dream, Hunter" Stretch smiled openly. Today and
tomorrow we will be here in San Francisco."
Hunter nodded, "After that?"
Scratch answered, "Then a few days from now the leaders will head for Central
Command in Washington and a summit meeting. There we will assess our
strengths and weaknesses, then plan for our next level of operations for all of the
mercenaries." The rest will be in training here, until we get the orders to mobilize.
Out of the mist came words. "We would like to join forces with your Guardians
against the Evil One. We can provide you with technical advice, even highly
portable military hardware to use against him.
Scratch and Stretch was in charge
of a very large team of mercenaries, men who wanted to take part in the armed
conflict who were not a national or a party to the conflict and were motivated to
take part in the hostilities by the desire for private gain which they had already
discussed and negotiated the price.
It was early morning on a cloudy day, and Hunter made out the details of the
encampment in the clearing next to the woods below them. The new arrivals were
arising in the camp, crawling out of their tents and lighting fires to cook their
morning breakfast. It had rained heavily the night before, and some of them in the
lean-tos looked wet and miserAbe. Some of the men were looking up at the sky,
which the clouds were ominous shade of dark gray, as if they were about to
disgorge their heavy, wet contents some more on the camp.
Hearing a rumbling noise, Hunter lowered his gaze and saw only a small number
of the troops were arrayed in neat infantry formations. He had mixed feeling about
what he was seeing. In one respect, this was not a very impressive display, but in
another, at least it existed.
"As you can see, we still have some kinks to work out," Stretch said. "But
believe me, we've made a lot of progress. We have come all the way from over
the world to join your force." "Welcome to the Guardians," Hunter said, with a
broad smile. A pale ring of sunlight burned into the clouds like the end of a
glowing cigarette, as Hunter and Sazz meet each of the men from the gathering.
There had to be at least eighty thousands of them altogether, by the time they
were done.
Pungent barnyard smells and inhuman sounds came from a nearby fenced-in
area, the corrals that had once been surrounded by lush green fields were lined by
woods now. The road had more potholes in it than the dark side of the moon, as
the pack wandered among the outskirts of the woods. A tall man with blond hair
and a square jaw sniffed at him, his face wore a blank expression.
Sazz looked into eyes that were like the pale clear amber of a winter sky just
after sunset, but there were no stars to illuminate the depths of Hunter's eyes, only
the certainly of the night to come. Wolf's eyes, alive with predatory intelligence.
Hunter put his weight back on his feet, listened. Silence. "I thought we just couldn't
hear them from this distance, but you're right- they stopped sending any
messages. None of it made sense, what had happened to them? Where were
they? What was they suppose to do?
Laying down he turned his head to the side, then his whole body, Hunter
squeezed his eyes shut and folded his arms tightly, pulling his legs up until he lay
in the fetal position. Then, determined to keep trying until he heard back from
them, he called out with his thoughts. Sazz? A pause, Sazz? A long pause, Sazz! He
shouted it mentally, his whole body tensing with the effort. Sazz? Where are you?
Please answer me! Why aren't you trying to contact me? "Hold on, I will be
beside you in a few minutes!" The words exploded inside his mind, so vivid and so
strangely audible within his skull. "Why are you guys so secretive?" Hunter had a
hard time wrapping his mind around the possibility. The purpose was as obvious
as more of the creatures came forth. The secrecy was very annoying. He slipped
into another memory dream, whispers came to him in his mind. Memories had
come back to Hunter on several occasions, the dreams he'd had since going
through the gate, fleeting glimpses here and there, like quick lightning strikes in his
mind. Knowing deep down that no matter what was happening in the Dream Gate,
it wasn't real. That was what he thought, but couldn't convince himself fully of it.
"I've been looking all over for Chance," Sazz pushed the thought inside his head.
"What are you doing laying down on the ground in that smelly old corral." Hunter
jerked up to a sitting position, gasping, startled and took a deep breath, as he
reached out to Sazz. What a nightmare he was having and was surprisingly shaken
by it, and told Sazz that he had simply drifted off to sleep while thinking about the
gathering. A surge of adrenaline pumped through her blood in a river of power
that held her mind in the zone, as she came up to Hunter, in less than a heartbeat,
she had decided, oh what the hell. Why not? She couldn't let him sit there and he
needed to know everything that was going on now. "So you bring me nothing but
trouble and if I had any sense, I'd leave you and find a job with someone who
offers better pay and greater job security," Sazz mused. Hunter said, "You'd be
bored as hell." Sazz grinned as she sat down next to him. "Now I can do something
besides feed you information. So what's the use of being a rich man if you don't
spend your money?" She laughed.
"Now you can see her beautiful face my friend, instead of only a blur as she
went by," said Chance, looking at Hunter grinning.
Sazz stuck out her hand and Hunter scooped it up to shake it. Beautiful wasn't an
exaggeration, with that dusting of freckles across her nose. "Please to me you,
Hunter," she said. "Are you as truly dangerous?" "Some say so," he replied, "but
you look like you could handle a little danger, Sazz." Toward that ultimate thrill, that
primeval gamble of life against death. That gamble that required everything the
players possessed- skill, intelligence, wit, physical strength and agility. The game
to end all games. What else could she want? She was one of the most successful
players. She had a talent for it, a love for it. Making her every dream come true
was definitely possible.
Hunter rested for a few moments, letting his mind wake up and settle before he
finally got to his feet and started moving around. "Tell me everything, I want to
know everything Sazz," he expressed. "I will tell you what I want to tell you, Hunter,
lets go." There was nothing for him to do about it, it was time to go.
"You think I sent Sazz to you, before we moved out just for the fun of it, Hunter,"
said Stretch, "no questions till we get to the bunker, how many times I got to tell
you. Don't worry your girlfriend will be fine.
Can you hear me? He asked picturing the words in his mine, mentally thinking
them out loud, throwing them at her in some way he could never have explained.
Concentrating, he said it again, can you hear me? Yes! She replied wondering
why, how, can we do this, she called out to his mind. "The mental effort of
speaking to each other is a special trait of our breed, while the Dream Gate is
active," he replied. Hunter thought about how he'd always felt a connection to Sazz,
ever since they'd gone through the Dream Gate. He wanted to dig a little more
and see what became of it. But the Dream Gate consumed them; he felt his mind
taken by it, felt memories flood into his thoughts. He put his fingers to his temples
in a purely instinctive, utterly useless gesture. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing
himself against the flow of energy. This wasn't his first time and he could handle it,
but today's encounter was enough to give him some second thoughts. He waited
until clear of the gate and on the way back toward the bunker in the mountain
section of San Francisco, before he picked the cell phone out and punched in the
only number that he had coded into his speed dial. It wasn't because of extreme
danger, rather, it might be because of extreme weirdness. His last assignment,
despite the excellent work done by him and his colleagues, had ended with four of
them being dead. Yet if it hadn't been for his intuition, a few other fellow agents
might have died as well. There was no way to blame himself, but naturally he did.
He'd worked solo over the years- and for a government where the government
could not act officially. Hunter went in where others did not.
"First, let me assure you, that you are not being let go. You will still be working
for Uncle Sam," Chance told him. "The assignments will come from me, but you'll
be heading up the team. A new kind of team, which your Dream Gate will provide
for us. So I am asking you to pick out your team before heading back to
Washington. They will train here before they are called up. Now that there's a
new president, it's time to begin."
A mottled orb adrift in inky vastness, the full moon had inspired myths and
mystery, music and madness but to the pack a cosmic perception of illusory
images from the moon's surface had called to the nature of the beast. All the
creatures howling had grown, increasing as the moon's reflection begin the illuminate
the night.
Chapter 8
Tunnel of Dreams
Hunter laid full length on the ground, then reached downward toward the tunnel
and plunged his head below the surface, to see what it contained. An instant later
he was jumping into the depths of the tunnel. The tunnel was the tomb of a
dream. Someone had dug this thing using God knew what kind of equipment
under the hard sun, worked like a fool for a dream that led to nothing but failure
and dashed hopes, it had lasted much longer already than its maker. The tunnel
branched outward. His light disappeared down one of the passages. They went
left, the sinister direction, the way they always went in the movies when there was
a choice. Ten minutes later Sazz and Hunter was a quarter of a mile down into the
tunnel and hardly knew where it was taking them.
They'd truly passed through a gate that couldn't be closed. A towering black
cloud hung over the camp like an anvil, threaten to strike the mountain with a
hammer blow of rain. The weather had been unseasonably stormy, but there had
been some good days, though not many.
So much responsibility on his shoulders, and sometimes it weighed heavily on
him. Especially now, with more and more of the creatures coming through the
Dream Gate. There were always little nagging worries that kept him busy and
awake at night.
"Based on what you've told me, the dreams are all the same," Sazz
pointed out. It's just a nightmare," she said. "Repressed memories, working their
way out."
"They're not repressed," Hunter said. He wondered if the fog had
triggered his nightmares, then again, he didn't need anything to trigger them. They
seemed to come almost nightly. How many nights this week had he repeated this
same dream, with its same routine? He tried to add them up but couldn't honestly
recall. It had become far too common. Why did he try harder and harder to see
the truth each time the dream started? He knew the answer, but didn't want to
admit it. Survivor's guilt was complicated. Hunter knew this. He had friends who
did not come back from Iraq and Afghanistan.
She didn't know what lay beneath
the dreams, and suddenly she didn't want to know. Sazz only wanted to leave, to
get out of there, before the truth was revealed. Hunter glared at her until the
echoes of her high-heeled boots clicking against the marble floor had faded away.
Sazz had her charms, one of which was her ability with computers and systems. At
least they had that in common, for Hunter was an accomplished programmer in his
own right. But she couldn't see the big picture like he did. He inhaled deeply,
enjoying the satisfying feel of the salty air, then exhaled a cloud of mist and shook
his head.
Sazz had never volunteered the information, and there was something about her
that made you think twice before you intruded on her very private space. Hunter
assumed she was in her mid-thirties but he would never ask her or bet on it. The
bond between them was as strong as any that could existed between lovers, as
she wasn't just his friend, she was his secret also.
Their relationship had been off
and on for awhile, and even if he wanted to, he could never completely end it with
her. The day was just about perfect...
A good day to make his selections, and all
day, there hadn't been even the slightest hint of their lovemaking the night before.
Hunter cupped his chin with his hand and was silent for a long moment as he stared
out across the gathering bunch, realizing it would not be easy to decide just who to
choose. Only two days and then they'd be on their way back to the main base at
Central Command, and that didn't leave very much time for them to be alone
together.
Sazz walked toward him, making no sound, until she could see what he
watched so intently. She was quiet for a moment.
"How did you know I was
here?" He pitched his thought to her.
"Because you're concentrating on
something very hard and it's a sixth sense I have," she smiled.
Hunter turned to
face her. He looked ten years younger than he was: his face was barely lined, his
coppery hair had no hint of gray, and Spartan self discipline kept him trim and well
muscled.
But what struck Sazz the most was the ridged nose, a certain angularity,
lent his features strength. What she saw in his eyes now, was the concern for her.
He smiled a little. "After all we're two people in love, who've never been away
together, alone in a beautiful place. We ought to be able to do something about
that." His tone, as so often, combined softness with seriousness.
Sazz knew by
now that this was another way he protected them both; to say how deeply he felt
made him too vulnerable, and Hunter did not want others to feel responsible for
him. But buying these few days of freedom had been the only thing that he could
do for them. He kissed her forehead. "Until we get to Command Central, he said
in the same quiet voice, I'd like to talk about us and even to decide our future."
Silent, Sazz took his hands into hers, looking up at him, she meet his searching
gaze, and then slowly she backed away from him, letting her eyes drop to the
ground, shyly. "Make love to me, Hunter, please."
He sweep her off her feet and
carried her into the night. She put her arms around his neck and patiently waited
for him to tell her where he was taking her. In truth, she had already come to
terms with the inevitAbe. She loved this man with all her heart, and at the moment
that was all that mattered. Hunter carried her to their blanket roll and laying her down, looked
into her face. His hand, slowly tracing the bone of her neck, made her shiver.
Her
eyes closed, in the last instant before becoming lost in Hunter entirely. She traced
a line down the side of his face with her fingertip to get his attention. Sazz thought
of the day when they'd first met, when her life changed forever. She was Hunter's
associate then, not his lover. She kissed the side of his neck, and bit his earlobe.
He wanted to woo her with sweet, loving words, so that she would know how much
she meant to him, but didn't know what to say because he was unschooled in the
gentle ways of seduction. "I can't concentrate when I am around you, but I'll do my
best," he laughed.
"You aren't always going to get your way."
"Sure I am," she
giggled. She looked, she decided ruefully, like a woman who'd just had a
screaming climax and needed more. That telltale glow was still there. He leaned
back against the headboard and let out a sigh of male satisfaction. I get next to
you, Sazz, I become confident in a big way.
Hunter continued on his way, and entered a lift that took him down to the lowest
level of the Executive Command Center of the fortress. The totality of secrets
within the ECC Fortress were know only to him. His closet advisers, as well as the
scientists, architects, and others they had, knew some of the things, but nowhere
near all of them. In addition, his special teams had surveillance methods that
provided him with reports on even the smallest thing of the camp and fortress.
Normally he studied information from all over the world during breakfast, and by
midmorning he decided what to do about most of the matters by then. He was a
leader who made many decisions, but at the moment he was worried about the
information about the Evil One. He was thinking it was about a superstitious
legend, the belief in supernatural causality— as a commonly held myth among the
clan, but Hunter had believed it was much more than that.
Hunter had dreams now, and in those dreams were glimpses, perhaps of what
may come to be, that the future will not repeat the mistakes of the past. He burst
upon a scene from a nightmare. Morning came unnoticed, the sky graying, turning
a deep blue before he realized that night was over. In one of his dreams a silver
wolf was embossed on black leather breastplates of the Guardians. Even the
leather strips of their scabbards shone, the longswords hanging at their hips.
Hunter paced across the courtyard behind Spiritgate, the Gate of Oblivion. Something was wrong. Very
wrong, and no one would tell him what. It was maddening. No answers were
forthcoming, so soon he gave up and returned to the ECC and he snorted, angry
with himself. He stamped his feet, fighting the drooping of his eyelids. Hunter
paced silently along the perimeter of the camp and returned to the fire sitting on a
rock nearby.
The figure slipped between trees and made its way towards Hunter.
Just as the figure grew closer Hunter rose, strode towards the newcomer.
Tincan
was the weaponmaster for the clan, a man whose reputation with a knife was
know to all.
Hunter had been highly respectful of him.
He was tall, a face full of
lines and creases, with cold eyes. Hunter thought the man was older than he
looked.
Tincan emerged from the thickets about the forest seeing Hunter, he
paused, bowed his head in a nod, and then marched towards him. "I've been
looking for you," the man said, standing in front of Hunter.
Hunter could not place
the man's age and there were scars about his face and mouth, though a close
cropped beard hid most of these. His hair was dark, dusted with gray. Then Hunter
looked into the mans eyes, golden like his, almost amber and old, no, more than
old. Ancient, and wise.
"Why?" Hunter asked.
Rain dripped off Tincan's nose. It
had been raining since he woke, a soft, gentle drizzle that slowly seeped into
everything, and now it was morning, though it was hard to judge from the faint
glow leaking through the low clouds. He was soaked through. A mist shrouded
the forest, and the land, reducing visibility to a few paces all around the camp, I
hate the damp here. All else I can cope with, but the damp...
Memories rushed through him, snatched images: The men arriving late in the
night and some of the creatures watching as they made their camp. There was a
note of impatience in his voice, some unseen stress, but that could have been
because of the rain. No, it was the weight of the power struggle he had witnessed
between the troops and the creatures. He had been right, a struggle of some kind.
Had the creatures rebelled, had the military been brought in to deal with them?
Somehow he would find answers to the problem and he would know what was
going on within the camp. As much as he feared the answers, he would know
them. Whispers rippled through the camp as heads turned to the far side of the
forest where the two of them stood.
Why did he feel so uneasy?
"We have to look
to the challenges from the outside forces, because things are changing and we
have to stay ahead of them," said Hunter.
Life is funny, who was the idiot who first said that? My life was moving on
slowly all right, but I didn't feel one damn bit like laughing. HAHA! People are what
they are, and they do what they do, and we have to decide to either accept that or
walk away without looking back. That is what I am thinking about my sisters
anyhow. Walking away from them, but it is so hard for me, as you very well know
what kind of person you're married to Sazz for sure. You also know how much my
family really means to me. I can't help how they act or what they do one bit, all I
can do is care for them and hope for the best in the future. Doing what is right is
one of the most important things in my life. "If I sit here starring, Moonglow, its
because Moonshadow failed to warn me that the head Chief of Staff had such
mystic eyes," Hunter said smiling with his eyes.
"I have been paid compliments before Hunter, but you are the first to describe
my eyes as mystic."
"Purely academic," Hunter said. "The eyes are doors to the secrets a person
hides from within."
"And what deep, dark shadows do you see lurking within my soul?"
Hunter laughed, "a gentleman never reveals a lady's private thoughts.
Seriously, our eyes have something in common." Moonglow's eyes like mine,
have rays that spread from pupil into the iris. They're sometimes called flashes,
and is a sign of psychic power. That is why the color of them cast off a golden
hue. How about you, Moonglow, can you see into the future of the Dream Quest?
He saw a fleeting shadow across her eyes. She replied "I know my destiny,
therefore I can control it."
It seemed for a moment- one fleeting moment- that this must have been
precisely what they did. They found themselves beset by problems and reached
outside reality to change things. What were problems suddenly had solutions.
Hunter didn't worry, his mind busily sorting out information, drawing conclusions,
discarding them, moving the information to new positions, drawing other
conclusions, and fitting pieces together until they found a picture with which he
could be satisfied would work out for the best for the warriors. Yes, Hunter
thought, the fact that another storm was definitely on the way was of little
importance. All he needed was one more day, dammit. Why the hell couldn't he
have had one more day. Maybe the storm would go around them. A lone dog,
unseen in the cold mist, barked at them furiously, then ran away.
As the light faded and colors muted into grayness, they were walking in a
subterranean network of passages and discovered a vast network of tunnels.
"You look as though you've been digging for bones like a dog," Sazz said.
"A noble
beast engaged in a noble profession," said Hunter.
Sazz put her face so close to his
he could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek. "Listen to me." Her whisper
was so low he had to concentrate to hear her. "I've been eager to talk about the
tunnels."
Hunter stood still, "all right," he said, "go ahead."
"Well, what I believe
we're going to find is the chamber up ahead that contains the catacombs of the
early Christians. It's a series of underground passages on five different levels and
each tunnel is about five meters wide and over five meters high, with shelves, or
platform-shaped depressions, that hold the bodies of the dead. There are
offshoots and rooms, each of which has more shelves dug into the rock. This kind
of rock is called tufa, which is a soft volcanic stone that hardens after it's exposed
to air. It's what is under every capital city in the United States. If you wished to
travel underground from one city to the next, you would extend the tunnels, as
someone has already done here. That someone has gone to great lengths to
map out all the directions and distances to each place. They have curved into the
slabs the information written in Latin and symbolized to help explain the
information about each passageway, with the inscriptions painted on each slab."
Hunter replied. "we need to get some equipment lowered down here as soon as
possible. So before we go any further, we'll hold a meeting to organize our plans
to explore these tunnels."
With the faintest flick of her eyes she indicated for him
to look as the reddish light from the torch illuminated the walls of the tunnel. He
could see where they branched off into a different direction.
Chapter9
Passage of Magic
The oldest, most divesting war of all time has found a way into the world, and is now inflicting itself on all of creation. Heaven and Hell are no longer the only settings for this terrible conflict. The story is taken a place right now on our planet in the 21st century.
Angels and Demons are among us. And they are bringing their war down upon us. A war in which we are insignificant; a war that we would not have thought possible and that will change our lives forever.
The oldest, most divesting war of all time has found a way into the world, and is now inflicting itself on all of creation. Heaven and Hell are no longer the only settings for this terrible conflict. The story is taken a place right now on our planet in the 21st century.
Angels and demons are among us. And they are bringing their war down upon us. A war in which we are insignificant; a war that we would not have thought possible and that will change our lives forever.
The wind whipped around the side of the trees, leaving behind rippled beads of light reflecting the downpour. Hammer kept his head tucked into his shoulders, his eyes studying the path his boots cut in the puddles forming on the hard ground. The storm had been growing since early in the afternoon and its throaty howl warned only of an increasing fury as the day increased.
This is Hammer, he thought, thirty-two years old, and in the prime of life, but not the same Hammer who started out on a ridiculous quest so many years ago. This Hammer was being hunted like an animal, driven by fear, helpless, and sure to die, unless he could find an escape, somehow. But there were too many of them for him to escape, and they were too clever, and they knew he knew too much.
IT was one of those days that always came with the end of the summer.
Haggard looking soldiers who had pulled an all-nighter drinking to celebrate a victory when they crushed the dark ones forces. Hammer had his share of those his first few years being in the Guardian Force. The years went by fast, and now only one final exercise separated him from visiting his family.
"Hey, Hammer."
"What's up, Hammer?"
"Not much. Just finished my last training exercise. You done?"
"One more."
Hammer laughed. "Because that's useful for getting into the Guardians.
Gotta love those required training exercises."
"I actually liked the exercise even if it is filled with new recruits,"
Hammer said. He was more of a hands-on person, preferring to build things. He had been training the recruits for awhile now, and wanted a break from them.
"Who do you think will get me when I am done training? Jar asked.
Hey, where you heading?" Jar asked.
"I need to do some work at my grandfather's stables. You want to come?" Hammer grimaced.
"Nah, I'll catch you later." Jar said.
The ride out to the stables never took long, tall trees ran the length of the property. He turned onto the long tree-lined roadway and clutched the horses reins, and Hammer quickly stopped and ran up. Calibre, his grandfather's wolf half-breed, stood at the top of the stairs leading to the house, teeth bared.
Hunterer spotted his mother speaking with the soldiers. "What's going on? Is Grandpa okay?"
His mother turned to him. "I don't know. We can't get in. Calibre won't let anyone pass."
"Ma'am," a officer interrupted, "if we can't get the dog out of there, we're going to have to put him down."
"No," Hunter said, stepping up to the stairs. "Let me try."
There was no way Hunter was going to let them shoot Calibre. He had been in the family for years.
"Easy, boy," he said slowly. "It's me."
Calibre narrowed his eyes at him with his ears pinned back on his head.
His whole body quivered while his tail was tucked between his legs.
Hammer took another step forward and Calibre bared all his teeth, unveiling the peaks of the Rocky Mountains inside his mouth.
Hammer never took his eyes from him; his stare neither challenging nor yielding. "Calibre," he said evenly, going down on one knee. He never would have thought that Calibre would attack him, but today he wasn't so sure.
"Come here, Calibre," he said more firmly. "I need to get in there, boy.
Come on." Still growling and ears back but not baring any teeth, Calibre reluctantly took a step forward.
"It's okay. Show me where he is. Take me to him." Calibre's ears perked up, and the panic left his eyes in an instant. Whining, Calibre turned tail and trotted into the house with Hammer in tow.
Hammer leaped up the porch stairs and entered his grandfather's house.
He called out, but there was no answer. Everything looked normal and in its place, but something felt wrong. There was a coldness in the air despite the warm weather outside.
Hammer followed Calibre through the house and down the back hallway leading to the study. He entered the room and found his grandfather lying on the floor.
Oh, no!
His grandfather sighed in relief as Hammer quickly knelt beside him.
He had a trace of blood trailing down the side of his mouth. His grandfather, who had always been a vibrant man—even into his eighties—
and was in better health than most, lay helplessly on the floor. He looked like he was struggling to say something, gesturing with his hand for Hammer to lean down.
"Come closer," he whispered, placing something in Hammer's hands.
"Keep it safe," he gasped.
"What's wrong?" Hammer asked.
His grandfather's face writhed in pain, and he took ragged breaths.
"Oh, Hammer. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" he said between gasps. His body convulsed violently, and his back arched while Hammer held onto him, crying out. Then his body relaxed with a great sigh. "Stay…" his grandfather whispered, and Hammer watched in silent horror as the life passed from his eyes.
Hammer heard others enter the room but didn't care. He knelt there clutching his grandfather's lifeless body. Eventually, a gentle but strong hand gripped his shoulder. "It's time to let go, son," his father beckoned.
No, Hammer thought.
"Hammer, please," his father said quietly, and Hammer carefully laid his grandfather's head down onto the floor. His father gently ran his fingers over Hammer's grandfather's eyes, closing them. At first glance, Hammer would have believed that he lay sleeping, and he wanted to believe it more than anything, but he knew the truth.
He stood up and slowly turned, clenching his teeth, trying for all he was worth not to break down and cry. He was eye level with his father, who was also a man of great size, but the sight of his father's eyes brimming with tears made the breath catch in his throat. His mother cried out, and he watched helplessly as she collapsed over his grandfather. His father knelt down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.
Hammer stood there helplessly, watching his parents hold each other. One thing kept registering in his mind over and over—his grandfather, Reymius the last scion of the Alenzar'seth, was dead, and this world was less of a place for his passing.
Hammer opened his hand and looked at the object that his grandfather had given him with his last breaths. It was a silver medallion, a white pearl in the center, and a carved relief of a dragon holding a rose curling around the front. There was a slight shimmer to it as it caught the light. After studying it for a few moments, he stuffed the medallion in his pocket and walked stiffly from the room.
After years of searching, Hammer is finally on the verge of making an incredible discovery.
Unfortunately, Ja'Seth the Shadow Lord, ruler of the Storm Riders, has other plans.
When Hunter, Sazz, Dulin and Hammer stops a brutal attack on an unsuspecting victim, he gets more than he bargained for and sets into motion events that will change his life forever. They told him he should've run away, and maybe they were right.
Hunter, Sazz, Dulin and Hammer is about to embark on an adventure of a lifetime.
The Riders on the Storm creatures and Ja'Seth are underground monsters. Hammer has something they need, and they're not the only ones hunting for it.
The rest of the day passed as if it were happening to someone else.
Chapter 10
Making of a Name
The day had started peacefully enough on the ride back to camp.
Hunter Bones was no ordinary mercernary, he was an eye-catching, dark-skinned, pureblood Navajo brave.
He stood over six feet tall, was broad-shouldered, and looked more like a white man than any Navajo.
Early on, he learned to fight everyone and be ready to defend himself against all odds.
By his early twenties, Hunter had made a name for himself.
when, in the fall of ‘73, his tired eyes squinting against the setting sun,
he had the beginning of those daily nightmares, the whisperer of our doom.
Everything began when after the assest of the nation with his hunting campaigns.
However, our hopes haven't faded out yet.
There are warriors still fighting against the evil just like him.
Hunter deep in thought, was perplexed and did not know what to do.
After a long while of weighing options, he finally turned around and saw his camp in the distance.
He had never found anything as puzzling as what was hidden in the large mountain top only a few miles in front of him.
He knew that it was unworldly.
As casually as possible, he started slowly walking his horse toward the camp.
Although his eyes were blank, his mind was whirling with activity.
How could he investigate the mountain without arousing the suspicion.
Briefly, he considered going deep into the mountain to investigate more.
The dogs barked, one lifting wiry haunches from the dirt to point his muzzle and boom his howl of alert as Hunter rode into camp.
The horizon rippled behind Hunter and Dulin stared at the war-horse riding closer.
Even in the fading sunlight, the chainmail and weaponry of the rider glinted brightly.
Hunter was not a hard man to reconize. He had a head of such thick, dark curls that he could have been a second sun rising from the east as he pulled off his helm. He wore a blue mantle, though now it was stained with filth and blood, and a tunic of crushed diamond twills in flax covered his mail. It was a garment anyone would risk his life to obtain, so Dulin thought Hunter was a fool to wear it. He jangled from the weight of his weapons and jewelry as he blundered towards the camp firepit.
Alarmed and fearful, Hunter knows he has little choice but to investigate the mountain with full awareness of the likely consequences.
He looked around again, at the camp, and breathed deeply. He was at peace. He had made the right decision.
He had been travelling all night, but he looked, as ever, immaculate.
The grey leather of his dress armour creaked softly as he accepted the unspoken invitation to seat himself beside his companions.
In the regulation manner he drew about him his finely woven cloak, grey and darker grey, edged with black serpents along the hem.
His kneeboots gleamed. Even when seated, he kept his shoulders perfectly square; yet he was also at ease.
There was something permanent about the man, timeless, infallible. It had been the same twenty years ago, when he first started this undertakings.
Dulin sat there open-mouthed with a cigarette dangling precariously from his lower lip.
Standing slack-jawed, staring up at the dark formation of clouds, stray strands of rain whip my face as the wind blows it around.
Mirrored by an infinite sight of so many people walking around at once and saying such different things caused the alarm bells to sound for Hunter.
As he waited for his strength to return, looking out around the camp. The wind buffeted him, and he again grabbed at the staff for support. The camp was high, so high that even the people down in the city were tiny, like little ants.
Letting out a heavy sigh, his brain races while struggling to think straight. So many questions without answers. So many worries, multiple fears. We are surrounded by a dark forces that continues to morph in front of our eyes. It makes me think we are tripping on something we inhaled while walking. Nagging me is the fact we wouldn't all have the same hallucinations. None of us sound incoherent or slur our words. No one's laughing, so if this is a trip, it's a bad one. The clouds should be normal. Instead, they changed to look otherworldly. Nothing should have changed. I swear that every time I blink, there's more transformation, more alien forms littering the horizon riding those dark clouds.
Stunning, yet terrifying. How did our minds become cluttered with pointless information that nags us to change our minds or relinquish a thought? Basking in the darkness, we'll scale down the cliffs and creep into the city on foot in the morning.
Dulin suspects that Hunter is hiding a dark secret.
Chapter 11
An Ancient Evil
Hunter slackened to a walk, and his steps grew heavier and slower when he
realized what caused the horrific odor. The village was as dead as a graveyard, not one person stirred but their voices were heard. He had jumped at every sound or movement.
An ancient evil no less potent with the passing of time is ready to be unleashed on the world of men once again and yet there is some hope. Just seeing the evidence of prior evil existence had put him under strain all morning as he had worked at discovering the past. Hunter got the feeling as if someone had walked across his grave as he stared at the cave along the base of the mountain. There had to be more to the story than even he had known, but what it could be he didn't know. Hunter's father tired of keeping the secrets of his ancestors, from the people of his nation, forsakes his family's oath, and leaves to find peace in another land. Little did he know that the wickedness of the land that he settles in would kill him and all his family, except for his oldest son.
Hunter, embittered by seeing the death of his family, finds himself becomming a mercenary, soldier of fortune, or hired gun. He becomes a survivor in the arena, where man is matched to the death against man and beast alike. He escapes only to pursue a life of vengeance against those who afflicted him and killed his family. Tormented by a life without peace, he remembers the guiding words of his parents, which open up a path of redemption that becomes the guiding influence of his life. Through acts of intrigue and deception he is lead to the awareness of the darker menace within a spiritual world that is unseen, but that he is no less involved in. He travels to the land of his ancestors, a place of majestic mountains and the valleys that lie between them that are settled by a people that exist in peace only because of the warriors that have fought and died to keep them so. It is in protecting these people that Hunter finds a reason worth fighting for. He grapples with the long held secrets of his family and unlike his father before him, decides to fight so that his people can remain free. He rises above his humble past to become a leader that inspires a nation in its fight for survival and becomes a legend.
Wood smoke curled up from the campfires of hundreds burning and dissolved into the mist overhead. Hunter commanded enormous respect among his troops, but he did so almost entirely without raising his voice, almost, in fact, without speaking to them. His few words were so carefully chosen and so effectively delivered. To the men, he seemed at times almost devoid of emotion, yet year after year he somehow managed to stir the deepest and most affirmative emotions many of them had ever known. All that, Hunter knew, had to start here in this camp, with the men who were now wandering off into the waning light. Somewhere among the—those green and untested men—lay much of the stock from which he would have to select a crew capable of going all the way. The trick would be to find which few of them had the potential for raw power, the nearly superhuman stamina, the indomitable willpower, and the intellectual capacity necessary to master the details of their chosen plan of action.
Most of all he missed the times he and his father would sit out at night on the cabin’s porch and stare up into the astonishing swirls of stars simmering in the black vault of the night sky, saying nothing, just being together, breathing in the cold air, waiting for a falling star to wish on. "Keep on watching,” his father would say. "Keep your eyes peeled. You never know when one is going to fall. The only time you don’t see them is when you stop watching for them.” Hunter missed that something terrible.
There was a
sound coming from outside the camp, growing ever louder. It was a huge, heavy rush,
suggesting immensity, a great parting of air. It was coming from directly above in the dark clouds gathered so close together. An object that he could see only in silhouette, reaching
across a massive arc of space, was suspended low in the air overhead.
I could
already sense something wrong in this place. Something dangerous.
Sazz was rubbing her
silver bracelet, her favorite magic item.
I knew we were thinking the same thing. A fight was
coming. Sometimes in Hunter's arrogance he has more anxiety
for the world than for himself.
Hunter imagined a pair of shadows moving
along the strip of sand where things came together but also separated. On the march, through the hot days of early June, he
carried a pebble in his mouth, turning it with his tongue, tasting sea
salt and moisture. His mind wandered. He had difficulty keeping his
attention on the war. On occasion he would yell at his men to spread out
the column, to keep their eyes open, but then he would slip away into
daydreams of his family.
What they carried varied by mission.
When a mission took them to the mountains, they carried mosquito
netting, machetes, canvas tarps, and extra bug juice.
If a mission seemed especially hazardous, or if it involved a place they
knew to be bad, they carried everything they could. On ambush, or other night missions, they carried peculiar little odds
and ends.
They all
carried ghosts. When dark came, they would move out single file across
the land to their ambush coordinates, where they
would quietly set up the traps and lie down and spend the night
waiting.
Other missions were more complicated and required special
equipment. In mid-June, it was their mission to search out and destroy
the elaborate cave tunnel complexes in the area south of camp.
Most often, before blowing the tunnels, they were ordered by higher
command to search them, which was considered bad news, but by and
by they just shrugged and carried out orders.
The Shadow Rider's eyes seemed to glow. When you're
a half-blood on a dangerous mission, what the heck is natural? After five minutes, Grunt moved to the cave entrance,
leaned down, and examined the darkness. Trouble, he thought a cave-in maybe. A few moments later Jar crawled out of the tunnel. He came
up grinning, filthy but alive. Grunt nodded and closed his eyes
while the others clapped Jar on the back and made jokes about rising
from the dead. When the fire died out, Jar pulled his poncho over his
shoulders and ate breakfast from a can.
There was no great mystery, he decided. The morning came up wet and blurry. Everything seemed part of
everything else, the fog and dark clouds and the deepening rain.
He was a soldier, after all. Half smiling, Hunter took out his maps. He shook his
head hard, as if to clear it, then bent forward and began planning the
day's march. In ten minutes, or maybe twenty, he would rouse the men
and they would pack up and head west, where the maps showed the
country to be green and inviting. They would do what they had always
done. The rain might add some weight, but otherwise it would be one
more day layered upon all the other days. Life has just gotten more complicated for Hunter, as if managing monster hunting duties, the equipment, food, and the men wasn't enough. He is trying to put on a brave face and be the leader he thinks his band of misfits needs but his campaign for leadership is the last thing on his mind when long held rules begin changing and a monster attacks in the most unlikely of places.
Chapter 12
The Look of a Predator
"It’s not what I see, it’s what I feel. It’s what those creatures did to James after torturing him.” Her voice broke. "They—he ate alive.”
"Give it a week, you'll forget all about it," Hunter told her. "The future is more important than the past."
Sazz’s smile grew, but her eyes remained deadly serious. Sazz regarded him for a moment. "It’s time to get to the point, I think.”
There was something in his otherwise familiar dark brown eyes that she didn’t recognize. She turned her gaze toward him and seemed to study his face. Evidently trying to figure him out.
It was the look of a predator. A shiver went down Sazz’s spin. She didn’t know why that happened or what it meant.
Today I also ask you all to look toward the future,” Hunter continued. "For I believe it will be much brighter than the past. I believe this because of the young people who stand with me today in this very city. They are the future, just as your sons and daughters are. They are our hopes, and future for all the people.”
The lightning sizzled now—and a scrolling arc burst into forks, and for one terrible moment she feared being struck by it. Rain pounded, and the lightning lit the sky in a flash.
The old man had prophesied that this world would end in darkness and evil would rule. The storm clouds was their way of traveling, riding on them like you would a horse. All saddled up, ready to strike with their thunderbolts. Storm Riders was the name people had chosen for the evil creatures. The clouds was orbiting in deep darkness, high above village. A distant rumble shook the ground, he low-lying clouds hiding something horrible. Still, I sensed a malicious presence, something hiding underneath it all like a cancer. Tingles ran over my arms, sending buzzing jolts up my back, I wanted to run, but couldn’t bring myself to do it. Rain sprinkled at the edges of my vision, reminding me that things would get worse before they got better.
A rumble came again, this one feeling like it couldn’t just be part of my imagination. Streaks of lightning flashed toward to ground, one hitting a nearby tree setting in ablaze. They floated above us, none of us seen them coming. I couldn’t imagined what kind of creatures would choose to live in such a place?
As the storm grew darker and darker over the horizon, Hunter and Lady Katherine realized the war over evil was not finished. We started to hear strange sounds coming from the forest that night. I knew something was out there, I didn’t know what it was. I will never understand why I looked down that dingy little trail, but I did. The cold rain that drenched everything should have been a clue, but it wasn’t. We started walking toward it, when one misstep and the dark clouds enveloped us. Lady Katherine screamed, but it was nothing we could do. I yanked my sword out as a dark shape came slithering forward. It came from my right, a blur I couldn’t make out and within a spit second there was a jolt. We were covered in a vaporous mist and were being pulled downward. They’re coming now! I knew there was something out there I just didn’t know what kind of creatures were headed towards us. I did know that we had to get ready for them.
While traveling through drenching rain in a wild storm, they find a burned out village. The shattered pieces of stones covered the streets. Only two remaining stone houses were left intact. Some of the corpses were already rotting away, bloody entrails covered the ground. There were other human body parts scattered everywhere. Left with no choice but to burn the remains, the group set about the task.
Lady Katherine frowned, eyes deepened, her expression a mix of troubled and upset. ‘After you’ve torched the remains, what is going to be our next plan of action?’ She asked.
Hunter turned, “damn!” he huffed, throwing a body over his shoulder. He tightened the strap with a yank, then felt the bones crack, silently cursing them. “I believe we’re about to go help the next village before it’s too late.’
“At least we could send some of the men to scout ahead for any signs of trouble.’ She informed Hunter.
He glowered at her but said nothing.
“Of course, I’m right!” she flouted. “Have I ever not been?”
A coldness crept down Hunter’s back at the mere mention of the dark creatures – massive, winged minions, with a deadly bite and equally lethal claws. They could not fly away with a fully grown human, but they could rip one apart fast enough, and scatter the remains, like they have done here. ‘We will handle this job,” Hunter decided. “Then move on for their next assignment. It won’t be long – you’ll see. So we can send a few men ahead. Good idea he finally said.’
“Of course!” She grinned, then turned to leave.
“By the Heavens,” he said, stepping up behind her. Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her arm. The move had her spin, and he drew her in for a kiss, his mouth claiming hers. “You never lack confidence, my dear.”
“Of course not,” she snorted, moving away with a smile. Glancing back at Hunter, as she went to inform Dulin about the advance scouts.
The day had worn on, long and dreary, the group had all the remains taken care of and were getting ready to bunk down for the night in any convenient place. They had pitched their tents and built a few camp fires to cook the evening meals. A few had caught some wild birds to roast. Then darkness descended on them. Rolling one of his shoulders – muscles sore from hours of backbreaking labor – Hunter looked about the place; they had done an excellent job for those poor souls. His brow furrowed as he noticed a set of ominous, dark clouds looming above the forest in the north. Were the Storm Riders already coming? Hunter inhaled deeply, ready to call out to his troops as a familiar screech burst through the woods. The noise caused an icy feeling to creep down his limbs; it was the very same that had echoed across the field when he’d fought the creatures before. Unsheathing his blade, he sent word to everyone to be ready for an ambush. The creatures were close!
Rain increasingly peppered the landscape, the breeze whipping the droplets against Hunter’s face. He grumbled under his breath, as he kept a lookout for any signs of the evil being. A bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the forest. And the light didn’t only shine down from above, but also through the woods ahead of his knowing gaze. Hunter inhaled the air of the storm and wish that breathing in and out deeply would give the same sense of relief as it had done when he’d been caught out in it on calmer nights.
“They will have us to fight when they come. That’s all we should need to defeat them. Is not my immortal life not enough?” Hunter thought to himself. A flash of lightning forked across the sky, thunder simultaneously roaring from above. The rain steadily increased, hammering down around him, as it drenched everything. He headed to one of the building left standing where he knew Lady Katherine and a few others took refuge. Leaves and debris were picked up by the howling gales, whirling around him. The temperature noticeably dropped as time wore on. More lightning split the clouds, joined by claps of thunder. But he pressed on, descending a slight slope, his boots sinking into more treacherous mud. With the ground engulfing his feet, he grabbed at a nearby branch, pulling with all his might. The wet soil finally gave way, and he stumbled, almost slamming into a tree. Finally he pushed open the door and retreated inside.
Lady Katherine rushed over to him, helping to discard his wet clothing. She took his arm and guided him next to the fireplace. Then rushed to grab a cup to pour some hot coffee for him to drink. Hoping that would take away the chill in his bones.
‘Thank you Sazz, that is mighty kind of you helping me know that.”
He uses his pet name for me and I melt slightly. “You know that you could go anywhere in time and space and I would find you, I would love you, whether you were in this realm, this form, or any other. Your soul is what calls to me. With us immortals, it is merely the beautiful love you have bestowed to which I cling... they cannot see beyond that which is shallow.”
He turns, leaning down and kisses her forehead gently, as he takes the cup from her.
Stepping back a little, she glanced across the room as the others stare at us. I hear the familiar voice of Dulin, as he walks over to the fireplace. I see the envious gazes of the other men too. I turn, letting my eyes settle on the roaring fire to keep from blushing. As I’m staring down at the fire, Dulin starts the conversation with Hunter. I hear a ripple of suppressed groans from the men, staring over at us. Muffled voices echoed around us as the young man continued their conversations as if at a distance, the words hard to discern.
Dulin was saying, ‘“I’ll go see if Sharokina is awake. She’ll want to see you. She will serve some food and drink while you wait, and help you get some dry clothes.” Sharokina entered in a hurry, throwing herself into Hunter’s arms. Hunter had barely managed to seat himself on the edge of the fireplace, when he received the full brunt of his sister’s forceful show of affection.
Gritting his teeth, Hunter stifled a grunt. Asking his sister how she was instead. He rubbed his eyes, never completing the sentence. His brow furrowed, his mind lost in thoughts for much longer than before.
The old man with a body covered in scars. His long white hair fell over the one side of his face, hiding a ruined eye. He was one of the few who had survived, when the Storm Riders had attacked the village. As he spoke in hushed tones to the group gathered around the fire. The fire crackled and Alsandare spoke fearfully to no one in general, ‘there were thousands of them. Creatures with wings, sharp long claws, just slicing people up. It was around midnight when they arrived, dark clouds funneling, like spirals, down they came. Hmmm…” The old man leaned in closer toward the fire. The old man grinned, revealing a mouth of missing teeth. “A quiet night would be appreciated before descending into that hell. Tonight will be the last time you can close your eyes carelessly.’ After a moment of silence, Alsandare cleared his throat, started speaking not to anyone in particular, just to their surroundings. ‘Those creatures came from hell, spawned by the Devil himself. When I seen one of them get killed, it just vanished into the air, vaporized into nothing.’
The Storm Riders were able to terrorize him the instant that they focused on his presence. If a powerful spirit has possessed them, and if the curse is successful, the swords will not penetrate and they will not bleed. Any determination to ignore them or to simply shrug them off would sacrifice the only weapon realistically available in the fight. Each one continued to encroach upon the village, in a rainy shadow cast by the high dark clouds used for coverage. They stood in deep shadow and the girl had been too absorbed in the fighting to notice their advance. I don’t know what happened then, they had already burst into the force area and cast himself upon the her.
Chapter 13
Morality and Mercy
Morality and mercy are easy concepts to follow when there are no risks involved. But it will always come a day where it's not easy, when a person must choose; to die honorably like a hero, or to do the unthinkable and survive. So tell me this. Stranded and all alone in a cruel land inhabited by men that despise mercy and compassion, what will you choose. To die? Or to live?
The breeze that came through the tent opening made Sharokina’s silky, long, blonde hair blow around frantically. The wind whistled all around the camp, and she stood with her eyes closed. Feeling the way it caressed her cheeks, the way it swirled around her, power that flowed from it's strength. She let it energize her inner being, charging her magical powers. The wind carried with it other possibilities. Today it carried with it the pormise of rain. Most days, she could feel a sense of connection to this land. Other times she was quiet, though there was always the promise of more if needed.
Her hair hung in a braid down her back to keep the wind from blowing it everywhere. The ground rumbled, this time, it seemed to shake from all over the campsite. She thought it had a strange energy that didn't come from the steady rumbling of the distant volcano. A hugh haze hung around the camp, like a dark storm approaching soon. She had grown accustomed to it during the time she'd spent in the camp, but didn't mean she liked it.
She gazed around the camp, most of the men were sitting by the fire-pits keeping warm.
'We need to talk.' she said.
'Then talk,' Hunter said.
Sharokina glanced around. 'Somewhere more private, perhaps?'
Hunter was silent for a moment while she studied him. Her hands were placed on her hips like she was waiting impassionedly. Before he could speak she walked off towards the cooks tent. A few minutes later Hunter caught up to her, stared at her, swallowing his eyes narrowed. There was a gleam of sweat just beneath Sharokina’s brow. Hunter swallowed again. 'Yes, ma’am.' He took a breath.
'Sharokina remembered being in his head … this conversation will scare him.
—They’re coming, Hunter, and you and I don’t have time to prepare any plans for our defense, before they arrive.' —I’m talking about.' She took a deep breath and spoke very slowly. 'Some of the demons are at war with humans, Hunter, but we can fight long enough for humans to become strong and take on their leader.'
Hunter just stared at her. Tilting his head, he frowned. 'This whole situation bothers me. Not being able to prepare our defenses is hard to accept.' Hunter replied.
'I understand,' said Sharokina. He glanced at her. Her eyes were wet. 'I understand that well.'
Of course she did. Hunter didn’t so much sit down on the chair beside her as fall down onto it. He wiped his face, looked around with a worried glance. Hunter shifted again. “I don’t know …” He wiped his chin, and then reached out for the mug of coffee the cook had carried over to them. He blinked remembering the last encounter they had with the demons. Glowing embers from the cook's fire produced an embracing warmth, a pleasant contrast to the chill autumn air outside.
He could manage this. He had to.
With a deep breath, he drew on more of the Cross's-power in the Amulet, hidden under his tunic. The Talismans magic added its strength to his own, and, let out a sigh of relief. Good enough. He didn’t have much time. Soon enough, he’d have to face the creatures, so he was preparing for the conflict.
All at once, Sharokina’s body seemed to not belong to her. She had gone cold, her senses numb. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot and she thought she might be sick. A burn of anger came to life in her heart, as strong as the dream she had been having nightly. She knew she wasn't sick, just tired from the constant dream of dark creatures invading the land. An explosion rocked her, sending her flying forward. Sharokina staggered and stumbled before sprawling on the ground. The area where she had just been standing had been ripped away, leaving her out in the open. Getting to her feet slowly, she looked around the camp. Destruction was everywhere, and she looked for movement, but there was none. In the distant she caught sight of a dark flicker of movement that disappeared. Another had followed, then another. Each time there was a flicker of movement, she felt a strange stirring of magic within her. She'd never felt that sense before, but it now washed over her, leaving her nauseated. Sharokina turned to look around the campsite, but there was nothing left of it. Nothing remained of the tents or fire-pits. The men were scattered across the opening just like her.
The dark figures suddenly appeared in the distant. As suddenly as they appeared, they vanished. There had been no warnings, no time to think or prepare. Some black clouds have formed over the mountain top, black smoke appared as she stared, she realized that the demons had arrived. After some hesitation, not willing to voice her fears or doubts, she went toward the few men left in the camp.
Hunter was gathering the group in a circle around him, trying to contain the losses. He had put a spell of protection over the group, hoping it would help them organize a plan to repeal the attackers. The attacks were an outlier event, the arrival of a new force brought a conflict never before experienced by his men. The air was filled with sharp odors, underlaid by the dusty smell of charred vegetation. The blaze scorched foliage, and carried the stench of burnt flesh and putrefaction. The storm did little to the destroyed land, fires were seen burning in several different areas. Hunter had gone to great lengths to find a solution. Indeed, he had no real way of knowing if there was a solution.
The inevitable invasion of the planet by the dark demon creatures had people afraid for the lives and the lives of their friends and families. A hush fell over the assembled men, then a scream pierced the air, high, plaintive and terrible. It reminded Hunter of a death scream he'd heard a long time ago. Sharokina was pointing upwards, toward some dark ominous funnel clouds looming overhead.
The figure of a demon was starring down at the group. Everyone turned to stare. Hunter had to admit that he was a bit threatened by this large image of a demon. Its dark features only added to the image. He had seen groups of them congregate around those same clouds before and knew just what they were. Storm Riders he had called them, knowning they really were 'Riders on the Storm demons.
Many people’s relatives and friends had been killed by the dark creatures. While his men made up a large proportion of these deaths, the main culprit had been the Storm Riders. They had been attacking every month, sending hordes of minions and slaves to rend the villages apart. The outposts could handle them, most of the time. But every once in a while, an attack force would get through the perimeter wall or drop down from the dark clouds.
With one breath from the creature, blowing it into air the world fall. Skies turned from a harsh grey to a darker mist as the life of the planet was sucked out within seconds. From the darkness, the shadow reaches out to feed on living. Its residents could only wait to die. It was known as the Devil's Breath.
Smoke filled the air, a fireball from Hell would burn everything in its path.When the Shadow of Darkness appeared in the storm clouds, its vengeance brough about the Killing Fields of Hell. The army of trolls, goblins, and evil spirits he unleashes, to quench his thirst for bloody retribution.
The first heavy drops of rain fell from the dark overburdened clouds, wetting the land and forming beads on the surfaces. As if drawn from unseen energy, blackened creatures clawing its way throught the downpour. Hunter did not feel the black insect crawling on his arm, or the cool morning breeze blowing through his tent. More importantly, however, is what he did not hear approaching. A fallen tree branch snapped under a creatures approach. Hunter head jerked toward the noise in reflect, as the color drained from his face. He was prepared for whatever was to come next, and with rage he furiously strode toward the noise. Then he saw it!
The thing Hunter dreaded the most, the silhouette of a demon. He could feel the creatures in his mind, searching, probing, scouring, desperate to unveil what remained hidden to them. They did not know of the ancient vows that had been sworn by the guardians, nor of the ones that had been molded by them, molded for only one purpose—to eradicate them from the world.
Hunter gaze turned to the skies once more, and now he viewed the descending creatures of darkness as they formed. He grasped the hilt of his sheathed great-sword removing it from its scabbard, always ready for any unseen attacks. The rain grew heavier, after minutes of unearthly silence he thought to himself, "I must determine the fate of these villages right now, the closet of them was Shady Brook." Without warning, the earth shook violently as a creature emerged in the forest, vaporising the trees nearby. Another war is about to be fought; a war in the shadows of a greater struggle. The blackness grew limbs, springing from the invisible depths of the crater opening it had created. The creature hissed at him. It flared, seeming twice Hunters size, then shrank into a shadow as his swords began to strike. It was there, and yet it wasn’t, a constantly shifting form almost too quick for the eye to follow. It slashed and lunged and circled with increasing desperation. The creature had surprised him, yes, but he had been prepared for the possibility. And though the creature before him represented his worst fears, he wasn’t about to let it plague his sleep another night.
He feinted, then executed another thrust. The demon met his strike, slapping down against his blade. Hunter ducked, felt the swish of a clawed hand nearly missing his skull, then he drove forward with his sword, plunging deep into meaty flesh. The demon shrieked, bringing a fierce howl to Hunter ears, then it vanished into the shadows. Finally, he pressed it from the shadows and into a patch of moonlight, where its mottled hide seemed to shimmer. Another step, and it was backed against a tree, where Hunter drove his sword through the creatures chest, pinning it to the tree. The creature had nowhere to go. It tossed its head, wailing in fury. Again the demon roared, began jerking violently, its all-too-inhuman cries curdling Hunter’s blood. Its all-black look at him, then it vaporized immediately after he pierced its stomach and while his sword bit deep into its neck. Hunter inspected a gash on his forearm, as if seeing it for the first time. Hunter breathed deep, and his stomach roiled. It might have been the smell of carnage mingling with the stench of the breath of the dead. Or it might have been that he had lost half a score—an entire squad—of his men.
There were shouts now from the villiage. The clamor of their struggle would soon raise an alarm within the city—if it hadn’t already. Though he had prepared Shady Brook’s authorities to have their watch to be ready in advance, the camp would soon be crawling with human vultures, come to catch a glimpse of the disturbance. Patrols would be dispatched to restore order. Hunter wished to be on his way by then as he could not wait to be away from this foreign land. A small continent, no larger than their own, yet said to bear forty times the population. To the north, climbing the slopes that overlooked the southside harbor, watchfires burned in hundreds, perhaps thousands, of windows and streetlamps. Hearthfire smoke sullied the skies, like a permanent stain of soot. In the heavens above this sprawling city, he could scarcely see the stars.
Chapter 14
Num Tums the Shadow Lord
The group called Shadow Warriors can be seen on the Earth’s surface. They are the minions controlled by the Storm Riders. The two of the Shadow Warriors appear to converge at the eastern end of the valley. As they merged at the base of each funnel. It seemed as if they quietly waited for the signal to advance.
Num Tums... the Shadow Lord has the exceptional ability at disguising himself. He is a mysterious figure and mastermind lurking in the shadows. The Shadow Lord launched simultaneous attacks on the land of the forgotten ones. The attack is redoubled, Hunter heard the roar as they cried out. So he hid from the sounds, and the darkness; and even the massacre so that no one could see his guilt and despair. The rest of the day was a blur, as he got used to being locked inside of himself. It was an overwhelming defeat, as he retreated back to the cave. Disorientation had him in its firm grip and he struggled to make sense of his current situation. At once, pain slammed into him, as though it had simply been waiting for his awareness, annoyed that he’d slipped into unconsciousness and evaded its harsh punishment. It was pitch-black, signaling that night had fallen. He breathed a sigh of relief before quickly realizing that he wasn’t out of danger by a long shot. The night only helped him if he could somehow extricate himself from his prison and be mobile enough to flee into the protection of the dark. Before despair could completely envelop him, he firmly pushed the negative emotions away. He was in enough of a treacherous situation without convincing himself he had no chance. At this point, hope was all he had. And a very strong will to survive. To not be defeated by the evil creatures.
Imbued by a new sense of purpose and determination, he set his mind to figuring out what he could move and what the best course of action was to pull himself from the carnage under which he found himself imprisoned. He harnessed the helpless rage that clawed at him, and he held it to him. It served to heighten his determination and strength to free himself. Trusting in his instincts was what had saved him, so he had to continue to trust in his natural instincts. He had no concept of the passing of time, only the urgency that he escape before they found him and before dawn. Gathering his strength—and courage—he began twisting his body, wincing as every muscle protested the awkward movement. He felt weak from the loss of blood, and it was impossible to see anything with detail with the entire area blanketed in suffocating darkness. He had not spent the entire night freeing himself from the wreckage to give in to the pain his body felt. So with a grin and bear it attitude he made his way into the forest.
Sweat beaded his forehead and ran in thin rivulets down his temples, tracing a line over grooved, aged, weather-beaten skin. He absently fingered the scar on his face. A memento from one of the creatures from a long time ago. No, he wore that scar as a reminder of what he’d survived. His hands shook so badly from the pain in his chest.
Alsandare was a big man. A killer. Trained by the best. And in turn he had trained the best. But right now he was feeling helpless and vulnerable. Fear, an emotion that until this day had been completely alien to him, gripped him by the balls, freezing his insides. He rubbed at his chest in an effort to alleviate the discomfort and closed his eyes, trying to rid himself of the images the battle had invoked.
He’d lived his life knowing that he was invincible. He wasn’t egotistical. Men who served with the men he served with didn’t think they were good. They knew they were good.
And none of that ability had been able to save his troops from those evil being. Because of him and the life he’d led, the choices he’d made. The mistakes he’d made in the past. All coming back to haunt him. Still haunting him every damn night.
The mission had been deeply personal to him, and weariness and dread assailed him. Deprived of the ability to completely overcome the failure to complete his mission made Alsandare afflicted with remorse.
His brush with death, facing his mortality and then his miraculous healing had brought him to Texas, seeking answers about what had happened in those mountains before he was rescued. He was huge on first observations and gut instincts. They rarely failed him, and those were thoughts that occupy one’s mind right now. Everyone had their faults. They were often the unsung heroes when it came to service to their country. But they made sacrifices above and beyond what most men experienced in their lifetime. Alsandare had took it in stride and stayed strong. Resilient.
Chapter 15
The Stranger
The Stranger appears out of nowhere, perhaps from the forest, or the waterfalls, or at the river. His identity is unknown. His motives are unclear. His information is undeniable. Then he whispers a few words in your ear and disappears, leaving you picking up the pieces of your shattered world. When he learns a devastating secret and finds himself tangled in something far darker than even he and Dulin realizes and if they don’t make exactly the right moves, the secret the stranger has revealed will not only ruin lives—it will end them. The stranger didn’t shatter Hunter’s world all at once. That was what Hunter would tell himself later, but that was a lie. He somehow knew right away, right from the very first sentence, that the life he had known as a content commander was about to change. It was a simple sentence on the face of it, but there was something in the tone, something knowing and even caring, that let Hunter know that nothing would ever be the same. At first, I was concerned – where was he leading with this? Then you start to realize that it isn’t just a empty remark.
“You didn’t have to know,” the stranger said.
“Who are you?” Hunter asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“I’m the stranger,” he said. “The stranger with important knowledge. Knowledge about the evil darkness which is about to descend upon the land.”
A booming voice from the other side of the cave called out, “Okay, guys, grab some fresh water and let’s get this show on the road.” Dulin shouted. “Time to start your training sessions.” The recruits started moving in a circle around him, sitting were each could hear clearly. Dulin looked over at Hunter, spotted the undoubtedly pale expression on his face, and frowned his concern. Hunter shook him off and turned back to the stranger.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Think of me as your savior. Or like the friend who just informed you about the future.”
“You’re full of crap.”
All conversation had pretty much ended. The voices were hushed now, the sounds of scraping boots echoing in the still chamber. The recruits were getting ready for the training session.
“You should be thanking me,” the man said.
“What are you talking about?”
For the first time, the man smiled. It was, Hunter couldn’t help but notice, a weird smile, the smile of a wizard, of a man who just wants to do the right thing.
“You’re afraid I am not telling you the truth,” the stranger said.
“You’re a liar.”
“You know better, don’t you, Hunter?”
From across the cave, Dulin called, “Hunter?” He turned toward them. Everyone was seated now except Hunter and the stranger.
“I have to go now,” the stranger whispered. “But if you really need proof, check with your dreamer. Look for her soon.”
“Wait—”
“One more thing.” The man leaned in close. “If I were you, I’d probably get these men ready fast.”
Tick, tick, tick . . . ka-boom. “What?”
And then, with Hunter dazed anew by this final discovery, the stranger vanished into thin air. When Hunter managed to get his thoughts back, he ran after the stranger.
Too late. Someone called his name. Hunter turned around and headed back inside. He tried to pay attention, but it was like all sound was traveling through the acoustical equivalent of a thunderstorm. He tried to push past what he just heard—who the hell was that guy anyway?—but that wasn’t happening. His vision blurred as he looked around the troops. The sound of scraping boots again echoed through the cave. Still in a fog, Hunter joined the circle of four men who would start the demonstrations. This was where it really counted. Their movements seemed to be perfect, as if they had practiced this a thousand times. All Hunter could hear were the strangers last words.
The evil is coming.
Ticktock, Ticktock.
Time is running out.
Out of a cloudless sky on a windless day came a sudden shadow that swooped across the land. Hunter was standing beside Dulin, in pleasantly warm autumn sunshine, holding out his hand to take the waterskin from him. When the fleeting shade touched him. He heard a brief thrumming like frantic wings. Glancing up, he expected to glimpse an eagle, but not a single bird was in sight.
Unaccountably, the shadow had chilled him as though a cold wind had come with it, but the air was utterly still. He shivered, felt a blade of ice touch his palm, and Hunter jerked his hand back, even as he realized, too late, it was the waterskin Dulin was handing him. Perplexed, frowning, Hunter raised his gaze to the sky again. Unblemished blue. Nothing in flight. The nearest trees, along the nearby stream, offered no branches on which a bird could alight. No birds were perched on the boulders nearby either. His heart was pounding. He was no longer chilled. In fact, he felt flushed.
Then he heard a voice from the sky, “You have been warned,
Ticktock,
Ticktock,
Time is running out.”
Dulin reached down to pick up the waterskin, asks Hunter, “You alright, you look like you seen a ghost?” The sudden swooping shadow and the inexplicable chill were all but forgotten. Hunter just shook his head in reply.
During the twilight hour of that Sunday in early September, the mountains were painted in only two colors: green and blue. The forests-pine, fir, spruce-looked as if they had been fashioned from the same thing covering the lakes. Dark shadows lay everywhere, growing larger and deeper and darker by the minute. Other changes are occurring as well.
”The beginning of this Quest is close, and you have made this happen,” Jar was saying, “it has been so long, but I remembered…” His words faltered, they sat around the clearing next to the fire and drank until when it came time to sleep. A few of the men glanced at them and the forest was so eerie quiet you could hear the waterfall crashing on rocks a few yards south of them. ”Memory is a double-edged sword, Jar. It can keep you locked in a moment that no longer exists,” Hunter Bones said. The focus of his eyes shifted, glazing as he remembered events from long ago. ”That it is,” said Jar quietly. Overhead the sky was gray, clouds low and heavy. He stared straight ahead; half a dozen of his men were about him, as well as Sazzy 'the Healer' and Sharokina 'the Dreamer'.
A Stab in the Dark
Sharokina lived an ordinary life, until a chance event awakened psychic abilities she never knew she possessed. Now she’s hearing the private thoughts of the people around her-and learning shocking secrets she never wanted to know. But as Sharokina’s existence becomes a waking nightmare, even greater jolts are in store as she becomes the unwilling recipient of a compelling message from beyond the grave! The dreams have been given to her.
The scream was distant and brief. A woman’s scream.
Sharokina’s world is turned upside down as a series of shattering revelations blurs the line between what’s real and what’s not…
In the darkness, he touched her arm and said, “Stay here.” She did not move, just waited. She was trying desperately hard not to panic, but lately her sleep had been filled with unbearable nightmares, and she had awakened each morning with a feeling of impending doom. Perhaps it’s all in my imagination, Sharokina thought. I’m working too much, too hard. I need to slow down she thought angrily.. This can’t go on, whatever it is, I won’t let it do this to me. I won’t.
Until two weeks ago, Sharokina had thought of the cave as a comfortable nest, a haven. Now it had turned into a fortress, a place where no one could get in to harm her. Yet whatever it was, it had entered, coming to her in her dreams nightly.
Meanwhile, Hunter is searching through the caves, looking everywhere, hoping to catch the stranger this time. The troops stared after him in openmouthed shock, but they seemed to be the only ones who couldn’t see the stranger. Hunter slowed as he approached, struck by the strangers appearance. He was as big as ever; his shoulders just as broad, his hair as gray, his eyes as blue. But he looked older today. Okay, the guy was old - he measured his age in millennia - but this morning, in this unguarded moment, he looked it.
The stranger glanced at Hunter, “you okay” he said. Could this man have aged so much since the last time they meet? Hunter replied, ““Fine, fine. Just tired. Sharokina has had a bad night.”
The stranger straightened and smiled, and some - but not all - of the extra years dropped away. He shot Hunter a quick glance but said nothing. “I hope it doesn’t indicate that you are in any way taking me lightly.” The Stranger finally said to Hunter.
“Believe me, I’m not. I’ve seen what you can do.” Hunter answered.
The evil is coming.
Ticktock, Ticktock.
Time is running out. Then the stranger vanished as before.
Sharokina was trembling, Lady Katherine and several other women had gathered around her. As Hunter started toward her, he noticed the stares she was attracting. People had to think she was a little off in the head, strolling around the cave like she didn’t know where she was going. Relief flooded him as they tried to calm her down.
Sazzy stamped her feet and blew on her hands. It was cold and damp, their breath fogging before them. A heavy mist cloaked the ground, and she crouched to scratch Hayden behind an ear; the hound leaned against her, nearly pushing her over.
With a groan Sazzy turned and walked over to the fire pit, looking deeper into the trees. Hunter Bones was deep into thought; he had to focus, the goal, the justification for all that he had done. For all that he would do. He continued to stare at his hands.
The Evil One’s approach had not come as a surprise. Sharokina ‘the Dreamer’ had woken a few hours ago, sweating and disoriented, and declared the coming of the Evil One and his shadow-spawn creatures. So they were ready, or ready as they could be.
Scratch answered, "Then a few days from now the leaders will head for Central Command in Washington and a summit meeting. There we will assess our strengths and weaknesses, then plan for our next level of operations for all of the mercenaries." The rest will be in training here, until we get the orders to mobilize. Out of the mist came words. Hello in the camp. "We would like to join forces with your Guardians against the Evil One. We can provide you with technical advice, even highly portable military hardware to use against him. Scratch and Stretch was in charge of a very large team of mercenaries, men who wanted to take part in the armed conflict who were not a national or a party to the conflict and were motivated to take part in the hostilities by the desire for private gain which they had already discussed and negotiated the price.
Tell Me Your Dreams
She was trying desperately hard not to panic, but lately her sleep had been filled with unbearable nightmares, and she had awakened each morning with a feeling of impending doom. Sharokina cried out from the rumble, as the lightning arced and crackled from above.
She was shaken out of a deep reverie. “Yes.” Her thoughts had been drifting to happier times, happier places.
“Are you all right? Lady Katherine asked. We should be out of this storm soon.”
She could visualize the dark storm clouds, as she had seen them often enough in her nightmares. Thunder echoed above and the earth shuddered beneath them threatening to release another torrent from the leaden skies.
“I was getting worried about you, Sharokina,” Lady Katherine was saying.
The sky was in total darkness. The storm reached its culminating point, lightning flashing nearby, and thunder reverberated through the cave, echoing through the chamber.Lady Katherine sat beside her next to the large fire pit, holding Sharokina’s hands. Hunter and Dulin were adding more wood to the fire.
Sharokina began telling them of the nightmares. Most people remain blissfully unaware of the secret lives and secret histories playing out around them. Till that moment, Sharokina’s eyes had been closed, showing nothing. Fear tightened her features as she continued telling her story. Hunter dropped into a chair next to Lady Katherine and glanced around the cave.
Don’t panic, Sharokina told herself. You must keep calm, and tell them everything, no matter how frighten you become. She struggled to keep up, but this felt like hell. “Wait,” she begged. “Please...
As she climbed, her vision began to blur. There was a thundering in her ears. I must reach it! But when she looked up again, it had disappeared. In its place stood an old man with white hair and long flowing white beard. The man stared down, curling his lips into a lonely grimace. Then he let out a scream of anguish that resounded across the forest.
I didn’t see them coming, it was a dark cloudy day out, a mean wind blowing, the air holding a promise of rain. She made a sound that might have been nervous laughter. “God,” she said. They were up in the clouds, mean evil dark looking creatures. The lightning flashes, I closed my eyes, letting the memory come back. They start to ride the funnel clouds downward, toward earth. Thousand and thousands of them all descend downwards. Evil apparitions, monsters, ghouls, and minions suddenly materializing out of the clouds. There they were, emerging from the blackness however, gleaming gauntly in the night sky over the land. Soon other beasties are popping up, and monstrous demons. Overwhelmed at this point, you have come to believe that you have just been possessed by the devil or a demon counterpart, and the dead who come back to life. People were suffering from these and more mysterious creatures. The devil has his emissaries carring out his assignments. Space and time do not limit these powerful spirit beings. They are able to observe and influence what goes on in the world. Even slaughtering people everywhere.
They are coming.
The evil is coming.
Ticktock, Ticktock.
Time is running out.
Then I wake up startled, terrified of the nightmare. Sharokina always awoke frighten from her nightmare, closes her eyes and tries to fall back asleep. It was no use. The dreams were emblazoned in her mind.
Chapter 16
The Creatures from Hell
The creatures were ordered to kill at will, and to survive where nothing else could. Deadlier than any creation hell alone could devise.” They can be shadows or berserkers. Size, shape, and color shift according to their needs. like some funneling storm cloud, black, shapeless tendrils clawing out from its edges. Their wounds are self-healing, so if you are going to kill one, you’d best do it swiftly. Their venom? Touch it, and your mind will drift toward madness. Taste it, and you will die a slow, stomach-wrenching death. Find a drop of it in your veins, and . . . well, at least your death will be swift.”
Hunter was the real expert,” Dulin snorted. “Hunted them along the borderlands for years, but saw many more of his own slain than theirs. Much of what we know, in fact, is from examining their corpses—just about the only time to get a fair look at one.
Dulin skills and abilities had been honed, tested, and proven in ways that few could fathom. They wouldn’t be the first inhuman creature he’d faced. Nor even the most daunting, from all he’d heard thus far. The sound of footsteps grating on the stones behind him made him halt and lean against the barrier wall so he could adjust his swords and reach into his pocket for a weapon.
The sky darkened. He could no longer see anything aside from the river and the halo of light in the far horizon where the sun's rays still reflected in the clouds.
Hunter never saw it coming. He thought the man was just shoving past him from behind, for the path was not wide, and then there was a hard blow to the side of his head. He saw a flash of pain, lost his balance, fell against the wall, and slid to the ground. The man shoved him about; Hunter thought he was helping him to get up, but then the man was gone and I just sagged there, dazed.
I don't know how many people passed me by; I was aware of them only peripherally, as moving shapes.
I put my hand to my hurting head and found moisture. I looked at my fingers and saw the stain of red on them: blood. I thought about that awhile, not moving, while the foreign shapes continued to pass. As the fog in his brain cleared, the ache in his belly arrived, silent pain striking deep. The gaping hole in his soul became his single focus point. Far more than the dreams of his past, the unknown cut him apart and shot his concentration to hell.
Life as he knew it was over—but his future refused to arrive.
There was little conversation after that—a whisper here or a murmur there as the companions settled into what comfort they could find, but nothing of consequence. Weariness had sapped their strength, and wariness kept them quiet. There wasn’t much to discuss, in any case.
It had been nearly three months since the battle with the demon lord, Num Tumms. After they had emerged from the fortress, the Keep had been sealed up, with his binding spells.
“Here! This way!”
Hunter spurred his mount,
pushing on through the forest. Shanshou and Jar followed, close at his heels. Ahead
fled the greatdemon-like creature that had been terrorizing nearby villages of
late. Its grunts and squeals sent shivers down his spine.
He burst out into a clearing. The
massive, wooly beast ran ahead of him, around an outcropping of rock, over a
knoll, then into the forest once more. The behemoth reeked of blood and death. Hunter
followed, head lowered, thighs pressed into his mount’s flanks. His eyes stayed
fixed on the great black shape. It must weigh upwards of a thousand pounds, a
nightmarish abomination that only vaguely resembled a naturaldemon. Two of
Hunter’s arrows sprouted from its flank, and blood trickled down its hide.
Cypresses loomed ahead, and over
the thumping of his horse’s hooves Hunter heard water. Leaves whipped at his
face. He ducked, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest.
Hurry, he told himself. He had to kill the thing before it
endangered his brothers. As the Baron’s oldest son, it was Hunter’s
responsibility to end the creature, but it was not theirs.
“There! it goes” cried Jar.
“No, I think I saw it go that way!”
said Shanshou.
They
shouldn’t have come. They were too proud, and they wanted revenge for the
villagers the creatures had slain. Hunter urged his horse on, faster. The demon
plunged through the trees and into the undergrowth, vanishing into the darkness
of the forest. Hunter rode after it, tense and wary. He could no longer see it,
no longer hear it. Where had it gone? One hand strayed toward the forest, a lance in its
back—
Growls, then howling.
The hounds! They’d found it.
Steering his horse toward the
sounds, he came upon the great beast, black and tusked, its wooly coat matted
with decaying material; it had literally wallowed in a mound of bodies in the
cavern lair Hunter had flushed it from. It had its back to the stream, which was
too wide and raging for even it to cross. To its fore were three hounds. One
sprawled on the ground, still and lifeless.
Even as Hunter arrived, one of the
remaining hounds leapt at the monster’s side. The demon swung its massive head,
catching the hound on the point of a tusk and flinging it away. Hunter’s heart
wrenched, as he had trained the hounds himself and loved them well.
He snatched at his bow and readied
an arrow. Fired. Hit. Fired again. Quivering, the shafts stood out from the monster’s
head and neck, but the creature did not even seem to notice.
The last hound lunged for its
throat. The demon-thing swung its head, and the dog’s broken body hurtled to the
ground.
Hunter readied another arrow, fingers
trembling. Drew back the string to his ear, aimed and loosed. The arrow flew
directly into the beast’s right eye. It squealed but did not go down. Instead,
it lowered its long, broad head, fixing Hunter with its remaining eye, small and
hateful, and charged.
Hunter jerked at his horse’s reins,
hauling it to the side. He just barely dodged the black, furred beast as it
barreled past. Instantly he heard the sounds of heavy flesh striking flesh. A
horse neighed in fear and pain. Shanshou screamed.
Horrified, Hunter wheeled about,
lifting his lance from the creature back. Shanshou was down, his entrails spilling across
the leaf-strewn ground. His horse, a bloody mess, mewled beside him.
Hunter felt something twist inside
him. “Shanshou!”
The demon rammed Jar’s horse next.
Its tusks ripped deep into the horse’s side, and, screaming, the animal crashed
to the ground. Jar jumped clear. He hit the ground, rolled, and stayed down.
The demon moved toward him, who had
apparently landed badly, twisting an ankle. Hunter couldn’t reach him in time. Hunter
cocked his lance and flung it as hard as he could. The lance sailed through the
air, straight toward the beast, and blood spurted where it struck. The creature
screamed.
Still
it kept its feet, though it staggered and shook its head. Hunter swore. No
natural being could have resisted such a wound.
A thing of the Shadow Lord, it must be.
He guided his mount around Shanshou as
he readied his bow. He needed to distract the creature. The beast was already
nearing Jar, foam fizzling on its snout. Flies buzzed about its gory tusks.
Jar’s face paled. Shakily, he
reached for his dagger and ripped it free. It glinted in the vague light that
fell through the tall trees, but the weapon seemed a puny thing compared to the
wooly vastness of the demon.
It all happened very fast. One
moment Hunter was approaching the beast even as it descended on Jar, who was
all but helpless against it. Then, suddenly, a wild shape burst from the
undergrowth, hunting knife bared and flashing.
The stranger caught the beast by
surprise. He wrapped one arm around its neck as far as it could go, bracing
himself, and with the other he plunged his blade under the beast’s jaw and
jerked it sideways, slitting the monster’s throat from ear to ear. Blood
sprayed everywhere, drenching Jar. The demon stumbled, collapsed to its knees,
and then, at last, fell to its side, dead.
The stranger, who bore a tusk wound
on his chest, gasped for breath and clung to his kill like a drowning man to a
log. Jar stared at him, too shocked to wipe the blood from his face.
Hunter shook off his surprise and
climbed down from his horse. He knelt beside Shanshou, who was trying to gather up
his guts and stuff them back into his body. Shame and grief welled up in Hunter
as he stroked Shanshou’s hair and forehead.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I failed
you.”
Shanshou tried to smile. Blood came up.
“You did the best you could, Hunter.” His voice came weak and gasping,
but even so it carried his usual cavalier tone. “At least I saw the beast die
first. Even now it paves the way to hell for me.”
“You won’t go to hell,” Hunter
said. He found Shanshou’s hand and gripped it tight. “You’ll find the Lights of
Day, and they will guide you to paradise.”
Shanshou chuckled, a ghastly sight with
the blood coating his teeth, then the luster in his eyes faded and he sagged. For
a long moment, Hunter remained beside him, and the wind whispered through the
trees. Then he mastered himself and rose. A quick look showed
the stranger bending over Jar, helping him stand. Both were drenched in
blood, not all of it from the beast.
“You’re wounded,” Hunter said,
noting the tusk wound on the stranger’s chest.
The man shrugged. “What is the life
of a woodsman compared to that of a lordling?” He was tall and sturdily-built,
Hunter saw, rugged but with a keenness to his dark eyes that spoke of
intelligence and character.
Hunter clapped him on the shoulder. “What
may I call you?”
“Bolin.” And he smiled.
Chapter 17
Toward a Greater Honor
Crossbowmen fell into ranks and began loosing arrows at the creatures, from the darkness inside the storm clouds more were swooping downwards out of the funnels. This was a very large campsite here, with a great number of small tents. Hunter said, “There must be tens of thousands of the creatures.” The tent flaps rustled behind the other leaders as they made their way towards the battlefield. The Conflict between the Shadow Warriors and the Guardians has escalated Dulin, Hunter, Jar, Grunt, Blade and a few more high ranking guardsmen led the charge to the demon-things.
Chapter 18
Hunter set his gaze upon the thick darking of the gathering storm clouds. But even as he searched, hope rising hard, none came. No great burst of inspiration. Not a whisper of forgiveness either. Sorrow compressed the cradle around the mountain top. Hunter kicked at a few stones. The harsh sound echoed inside the cave, killing the quiet,
“You still here?” The woman's voice drifted from the rear of the cave. With a sigh, he glanced over his shoulder. A pale purple robe was worn by Lady Katherine. Eyes shimmering in the gloom, Hunter left the shadows and walked into the open cave. Moonlight fell across her face, illuminating aristocratic features.
Hunter's day began like most, but it would end like none before it. Lady Katherine hugged him, pushing her cheek into his chest. He kissed the top of her head. She gazed up at him and, on tiptoe, reached to kiss him. ‘Don’t wait,’ she said. ‘I don’t like going into the camp knowing you’re out here waiting and worring. It makes it harder.’ They held each other again. She bowed her head. ‘I have a bad feeling. Why do I have a bad feeling?’ I listened as hard as I could to what she was saying, hoping I’d absorbed enough of the information to make some criticle dicessions. The cold rain stung the sides of my cheeks and soaked my clothes. The strike of my boot heels echoed as I hurried back to camp.
Hunter was soaked to the skin and all he could hear in his head were the lyrics ‘rain drops keep falling on my head’. It had rained heavily lately, and despite the present torrential downpour in the real world, the dark clouds never vanished.
He could feel himself burning already with all the emotions he tried to keep in check.
As he arrived at the camp, Hunter checked his pockets again to make sure he still had it. The fire lights surrounding the camp reflected the rain and gave it a sinister feel, one he hadn’t experienced on previous times.
He sat at a log, taking his weight off his frame. Watching a guy light up had made him want a cigarette too. He pulled a packet out of his jacket pocket and enjoyed a smoke as he surveyed the campsite.
It was really dark now, and the wind startled him as it hurtled round the corners of the mountains. Any second now the rain would stop he hoped. But it never did so, and that’s when he felt it - the vibrations. He peered into the darkness and made out three pin pricks of shadows. They were moving towards him, increasing in size. In his gut he knew it was the warriors of Ja' Seth coming after him.
But instead of feeling panic, he felt calm. It would be over; whether dead or captured the Evil One couldn’t have him anymore.
Hunter looked up at the oncoming shadows, becoming clearly visible now, his eyes tracing their movements. He waited listening for the whistle, the signal that they’d seen him. But it didn’t come.
And as the thoughts raced through him, he realised he’d heard the whistle earlier that day already, the blinding flash hadn’t been his head hitting the rocks. His body wasn’t trapped anymore. He did not feel the campfire tickling his arm, or the rainy morning breeze blowing through his silver hair. More importantly, however, is what he did not hear approaching. A fallen tree branch just a few feet away, snapped under stalking footsteps. Hunter’s head jerked up. His cigarette slipped from his fingers falling onto the muddy ground as the color drained from his face.
There was no escape.
Shadow number one blocked him from the right, while shadow number two blocked the left, leaving the head shadow blocking the pathway in front. A sheer granite rock towered behind Hunter.
He couldn’t decide whether he was more upset over the impending humiliation, or at the danger to the others in the camp. He was nearly astonished!
“If you recall,” he began, hoping to distract them, “I believe I am actually meaner than the three of you.” He laughed nervously after he had said it.
The head shadow was easily a foot taller and wider than Hunter. The shadow’s face boiled with rage as he furiously strode toward Hunter, pushing him to the muddy ground.
His two buddies pointed and shrieked with laughter.
Hunter, defeated, prepared for whatever was to come next: with a mouthful of broken teeth, a blacken eye, or maybe this time, a death.
Then he saw it! The thing Hunter Bones dreaded the most. The silhouette of a figure hidden within the darkness.
Chapter 19
Hunter set his gaze upon the thick darking of the gathering storm clouds. But even as he searched, hope rising hard, none came. No great burst of inspiration. Not a whisper of forgiveness either. Sorrow compressed the cradle around the mountain top. Hunter kicked at a few stones. The harsh sound echoed inside the cave, killing the quiet,
“You still here?” The woman's voice drifted from the rear of the cave. With a sigh, he glanced over his shoulder. A pale purple robe was worn by Lady Katherine. Eyes shimmering in the gloom, Hunter left the shadows and walked into the open cave. Moonlight fell across her face, illuminating aristocratic features.
Hunter's day began like most, but it would end like none before it. Lady Katherine hugged him, pushing her cheek into his chest. He kissed the top of her head. She gazed up at him and, on tiptoe, reached to kiss him. ‘Don’t wait,’ she said. ‘I don’t like going into the camp knowing you’re out here waiting and worring. It makes it harder.’ They held each other again. She bowed her head. ‘I have a bad feeling. Why do I have a bad feeling?’
I listened as hard as I could to what she was saying, hoping I’d absorbed enough of the information to make some criticle dicessions. The cold rain stung the sides of my cheeks and soaked my clothes. The strike of my boot heels echoed as I hurried back to camp.
