Rise of the Night (Sepia Blue Book 1)

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Just in time, hunter, I’m thirsty,” said the Nightmare.

  FOUR

  Sepia began to shoot. The Nightmare leapt behind a car, as he shot projectiles from his hands at Sepia forcing her to duck behind the cover of an SUV.

  Black globules punctured and penetrated the vehicle. She could hear the metal of the car sizzle and melt like bacon fat on a hot skillet.

  “That’s just rude,” the Nightmare shouted from behind the cover of the car.

  “Show your face and I’ll show you how rude I can be.” She checked herself to make sure none of the projectiles had hit.

  “Cade, do you have a shot? I don’t want to get much closer than I have to. That thing is shooting some kind of metal-eating acid.”

  “I have no shot, and he knows our MO. Can you flush him out?”

  She hated the idea of using her sword, but she didn’t have the luxury of time, since any minute those two Rogues would be back and then all hell would break loose.

  “Let me see if I can convince him to move,” said Cade. “You’re going to have to dance with him, though. I don’t think my ammo is going to do much to him. I hate Nightmares.”

  She knew what that meant. She would have to draw it, her sword. Where is a shadow sniper when you need one?

  “Do what you can, we don’t have all night. Those two will hoof it back eventually,” she said.

  The first shot shattered the windshield of the car where the Nightmare was hiding. Cade could see the car being slowly lifted.

  “Get the hell out of there, now!” he yelled.

  Sepia dove and rolled into the street as the SUV she was taking cover behind was crushed.

  “That is not a T4, Blue. Get the hell out of there--bug out!

  “Too late now,” she said.

  As she stood, Sepia could see the Nightmare was close, too close.

  “I’m going to drink you slowly, bitch,” said the Nightmare with a smile.

  Its voice was silk, warm and inviting. It was a gentle caress with the promise of death.

  “I can see you heal fast,” responded Sepia.

  The only evidence of the bullets she fired was a series of small puckers now, healing fast.

  “We aren’t as frail as humans, hunter. We don’t die from bullets.”

  Shooting them did slow them down, which is all a hunter needed when seconds mattered.

  “I know, I just wanted your attention,” said Sepia.

  She drew her sword and a hush fell on the street, the night holding its breath for a moment and then exhaling. She leapt forward, slicing fast. The Nightmare was faster. Her first lunge missed and she avoided his swipe by a fraction of an inch.

  Damn, it’s fast.

  “You’re good, hunter,” it said as it circled around her. “I’m going to enjoy you, and your partner up there in the shadows, will be dessert.”

  Cade is right, it knows how we operate, but how?

  “What are you doing out of the park?” she said as she looked for an opening.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know? More importantly, wouldn’t you like to know how?”

  The Nightmare slid left, extending its hand and firing projectiles at her. She dodged right avoiding the black globules and slashed in an upward arc from left to right. Her sword connected with the Nightmare and she felt the surge of power. Her sword loved this. The darkness rose in her.

  The Nightmare looked down to see a huge gash open across its chest. Sepia stood transfixed. How is this thing not down yet? It feinted right and jumped left slamming a palm in her chest. She flowed with the energy of the strike, allowing her body to turn and slash to remove the Nightmare’s head. It ducked under the slash and kicked at her feet. She leapt to avoid the sweep and realized her mistake too late. The voice of her swordmaster came back to her. Never leave the ground with both feet while fighting something faster and stronger than you unless you are jumping off a building. Gan would kick her ass for this amateur hour move.

  The Nightmare now crouched, jumped up with a knee strike that connected with her midsection, doubling her over. The pain was intense as she staggered back, retching.

  “Sepia! Sepia, you okay? Bastard knows I’m here and is blocking my shot,” said Cade. “I’m moving for better position.”

  She could see how the Nightmare blocked Cade’s line of sight using the building as a barrier. It turned to face her. The gash across its chest was gone.

  “I’m not impressed, frankly. I heard hunters were supposed to be this fearsome group of individuals. I can see the reports of your abilities were greatly exaggerated.”

  “You leave her alone!” yelled Greg. Charging behind the Nightmare, he began shooting.

  The shots rang out in the night. The weapon isn’t even silenced? Sepia realized. The Nightmare took several steps forward from the impact. It was the only indicator that it had been shot several times. The lack of exit wounds meant that whatever weapon Greg was using was underpowered. She could see Frank trailing in the distance. I underestimated the Nightmare and took too long, and now this boy will die.

  “Greg, no, stay back! It’s too dangerous,” she said as she managed to get some air back into her lungs. The Nightmare spun and grabbed Greg by the neck, suspending him several feet from the ground.

  “See, this is what I mean hunter. This is insulting. How could your superiors send this against a creature of my caliber?” My thoughts exactly. Goddammit, kid. I told you it was dangerous. The Nightmare closed its grip and snapped Greg’s neck, tossing the lifeless body to the ground.

  “No!” screamed Frank.

  Frank saw the body of his brother crumple to the ground. Cade managed to grab him before he attacked the Nightmare.

  “You can’t, buddy. It’s too strong. Let her deal with it,” said Cade.

  “That was my brother, my little brother,” said Frank as he choked back the sobs.

  “If you want to be around to remember him, we need to put some distance between us and them Frank. Now move,” said Cade.

  Cade grabbed Frank and pulled him back. The Nightmare turned to face Sepia again.

  “I hope he wasn’t important to you, hunter, though you are all so…insignificant.”

  Sepia stood still, the anger coursing through her body coming off her in palpable waves. The darkness flowed now. She hated this life, she hated this job and she hated the senseless death. This creature, this thing killed indiscriminately, leaving a wake of destruction behind it. No more.

  Her sword hummed with power as she jumped at the Nightmare. Covered with a dark aura, it crackled with energy. The blade had gone black, an inky viscous ooze covering it.

  “What the hell is that?” said Frank. He pointed at Sepia’s sword.

  “Yeah, we’d better move back a bit more,” said Cade as he grabbed Frank’s arm.

  “What is that? What happened to her sword? Why is it black like that?”

  “That’s a named blade, which means right now that Nightmare doesn’t know it’s in for a world of hurt.”

  “A named blade?” said Frank.

  “Don’t you guys get briefed?” Cade said as they were still moving away from Sepia and the Nightmare. “Goddamned rookies. Named blades are given to certain hunters, the most dangerous ones. All you need to know is that right now we are moving away from her, not the Nightmare.”

  The Nightmare dodged another slash and sidestepped right into a kick. Sepia shattered its left knee as it fell to the ground. She slashed downward, and the Nightmare lifted an arm to intercept the strike, so she changed direction mid strike and turned her wrist in a J motion and removed the Nightmare’s arm. Shock registered on its face. For the first time, the Nightmare knew fear. Its knee already healed, it stood to run.

  “Where are you going? I thought you wanted to drink me dry?” she whispered as she kicked the arm away, making sure it didn’t join its host.

  “I’ve decided to try a different vintage tonight. I’m finding the selection here is quite bitter to my
palate.”

  “Oh, I’m not bitter; I’m as sweet as they come. Let me show you.”

  She feinted right and stabbed left. Impaled, the light of realization dawned in the Nightmare’s eyes as he looked down to see her sword in its chest. She removed the sword and the Nightmare fell to its knees. There was a smile on her face now. It was visceral and twisted. She held the sword at her side looking down at the Nightmare.

  “That sword- -is that Per-”

  The Nightmare’s head flew to the side before he could finish. She looked over to where the head rolled. The Nightmare disintegrated, the remaining dust blowing away. In a few minutes, no evidence of its existence would be left.

  “You, filth, will not utter its name,” she said as she sheathed her blade.

  “Cade,” she said as she took several steps, as the world tilted and she collapsed.

  FIVE

  “She is a liability. What kind of hunter wields her sword and then passes out?”

  Magnus Peterson was an imposing figure, taller than most all his life; he looked down at his second in command, Marks, as they walked the halls of Home to his office. As Overseer for the Order he was responsible for half the Hunters on the island. The other half were under the jurisdiction of Rebecca Wright, a hunter who rose through the ranks. It was his opinion that no woman should be an Overseer. They just weren’t strong or ruthless enough. It was a job for a man, cold, calculating, and logical. He would rectify that mistake soon enough. Right now he had to deal with this mess.

  “Who is patrolling her sector now?”

  “I assigned Jen Rodriguez and Burns, sir,” said Marks.

  “Well, at least they’re competent. I swear whoever thought women were capable of being hunters needs to be tied to a post and shot.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Marks.

  “Why don’t we designate her as Rogue and replace her?”

  “Policy states that no hunter can be demoted or leave their post for any reason, short of death, sir.”

  “It was a rhetorical question, Marks. Don’t be dense. I know the regulations better than you ever will.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They rounded a corner and proceeded down the corridor to an intersection, taking the right hallway as Magnus continued speaking.

  Marks checked his tablet as they walked.

  “However, it says here that she has one year left on her five year mandatory sector patrol. She is currently patrolling sector thirteen.”

  “Isn’t that our smallest sector?”

  “Yes, sir, and one of the farthest away from the park.”

  What is a Nightmare doing so far away from the park and why in that sector? There is something deeper here, thought Magnus.

  “Were there any fatalities?”

  “There were two, sir. One is collateral, eliminated by the Nightmare. The other fatality is a Rogue by the name of Greg Mannoli.”

  “Locate the family of the collateral and make sure they are well compensated and taken care of. No need for them to suffer any more because of the incompetence of our hunter.”

  “Yes, sir. Full honors for the Rogue?”

  “Of course, standard protocol.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What was the threat level of this Nightmare?”

  His division, a nexus of activity, skipped a beat as Magnus entered. He kept walking toward his office, appearing oblivious to the pause, but well aware of his effect on those around him.

  “Marks, what was the threat level?”

  Marks checked his tablet.

  “According to the data gathered and the regenerative processes, it would seem she faced a threat level six Nightmare.”

  Magnus turned to face his assistant, stopping for the first time. He pushed open the door to his office and sat down at his desk.

  “No hunter can take down a T6 by herself. You must be mistaken.”

  “That is a possibility, sir. Should I run the data again?”

  “Get me the report in an hour. I want the details. Close the door on your way out.”

  Who the hell is this hunter and how is she able to handle a T6 on her own?

  **********

  Sepia regained consciousness in the infirmary. Beside her sat Cade and her trainer and mentor, Gan.

  “She can’t keep doing this, Gan,” said Cade.

  “Doing what exactly? Surviving?”

  Cade stood and looked out the window. It was morning, with people on their way to work living their lives. They started the day, oblivious to the danger that existed beside them contained by wards older than the city itself. Wards, that -if last night was any indicator-, were failing.

  Cade turned to face Gan. The trainer looked older this morning somehow. Built like a fireplug, Gan was mostly muscle. His bald head softly reflected the morning light coming in through the window. Numerous scars crisscrossed his arms and hands, testament to his time in the field.

  “Patrolling, Gan. You know damned well what I mean. She has what, a year left on her mandatory? Get her transferred.”

  “You know regs as well as I do. Not possible.”

  Gan sat with his arms crossed still looking at Sepia. His large frame filled the chair, his face unreadable.

  “She is going to get herself killed, and me with her.”

  “Occupational hazard, you know the risks especially with a named blade hunter. You getting cold feet, now, five years in?”

  “It’s this principle of hers. All life is sacred--even the Unholy. You should hear her.”

  “I don’t need to, I taught her.” Gan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Cade.

  “She is going to get us in too deep one day.”

  “Hasn’t happened yet,” said Gan

  Cade ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tic.

  “By all that’s holy, Gan, one moment she won’t take down a brute. The next she’s facing a T6, alone! It’s that goddamned sword. It’s messing with her head.”

  Gan sighed and turned then. Cade knew he crossed a line.

  “Three things.” Gan’s voice was steel, its edge slicing through the air.

  “One, you do not raise your voice to me, ever. You haven’t come close to earning that privilege.”

  “I’m sor--” started Cade.

  “Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking,” said Gan.

  Cade winced.

  “Second, she didn’t take on the T6 alone. Your sorry ass was there to make sure she made it out alive. You were supposed to find a vantage point that allowed you a shot. That’s your job isn’t it, gunman?”

  Cade knew better than to answer and so he nodded.

  “Third, she is a class two hunter and carries a named blade for a reason. She is the first class two to ever carry one. Whether or not she chooses to use it is another matter. I trained her. If she weren’t capable she wouldn’t be out there.”

  Gan turned to face the window, his reflection a granite mask.

  “I need some coffee, and then I’m heading home. It’s been a long night,” said Cade.

  Gan grunted in response. Cade knew better than to push it.

  “I’ll check on the Rogue on my way out,” said Cade.

  If Gan heard him he gave no indication as he kept staring out the window. The door closed behind Cade with a whisper.

  “I know you’re awake so stop pretending,” said Gan.

  Sepia opened her eyes. She could never fool Gan. She held her hand to her head, avoiding the light coming in from the window.

  “Hurts?”

  “Like a bitch. Coffee would be great right about now,” said Sepia.

  Gan handed her a steaming cup, which she inhaled slowly before her first sip. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet dangling several inches from the floor. She felt small again. Ever since she could remember, Gan was there.

  “When your mother named me your guardian, I thought she was just being foolish. Gunmen don’t have long lives, and then she died. She was talented, Sepia,
probably the best hunter I have ever seen. A T8 took her down, because she faced it alone.”

  “I know, Gan,” said Sepia

  “No, no you don’t, I was there. The sword you carry is hers. Are you tired of living?”

  “No, Gan, I just--”

  Gan held up his hand, stopping her answer.

  “You can’t suppress that sword and expect nothing to happen. You have to use it. It’s like a pipe under pressure, and every so often you have to vent the line.”

  She looked down at her feet.

  “I can’t, Gan, every time I draw that thing it changes me, for the worse. It feels wrong, evil.”

  Gan knew firsthand what she was referring to. Her mother had said the same thing many times. But Sepia had to learn to use her sword, because the alternative was unthinkable.

  “Get dressed. We have somewhere to go,” said Gan.

  “Is Cade…?”

  “Pissed as hell? Yes. That other rogue is fine, and his brother was put to rest.”

  Another death I am responsible for. How much longer? How many more?

  “Stop that. It isn’t your fault, they are Rogues, and they knew what they were signing up for. Cut the sympathy shit, you can’t afford it.”

  Sepia nodded as she started getting dressed.

  “I’ll be outside, make it quick,” said Gan.

  SIX

  Sepia put on her leathers, tied her holsters and stepped out of the room. Gan handed her weapons over as they headed out of the infirmary.

  “Where are we going?”

  She holstered her guns. The sword was in its sheath. She strapped it to her back, its weight familiar, like an old friend.

  “You need to find out what a T6 is doing in your sector. I think I know someone who can help you,” said Gan

  “Gan?” she said, concern in her voice.

  “I’m not going out into the field with you. Heaven knows you need the help, though. No, I’m just pointing you in the right direction. You and Cade do the legwork.”

  “Right, this isn’t you in the field,” she said.

  They were outside the Home site walking down Fifth Avenue from 82nd Street.