"How long until backup arrives?" Fortier barked, his tone brooking no delay as he fixed a piercing gaze on the nearest officer.
"They should be arriving any minute, Commander," the officer replied, his voice taut with the pressure from Fortier's scrutiny.
"Is anyone hurt? What's the ETA on medical assistance?" Fortier's questions came rapidly as he turned to another officer. It was as if he were passionately reciting some script from an action film.
"No casualties, Commander. Medical assistance is en route and will arrive with the backup," the officer answered quickly, sensing Fortier's impatience.
With the assurance that help was on the way, Fortier turned back to his team, his expression hard. "Alright, listen up! This mission will be clean—no injuries, no mistakes. Do I make myself clear?" His words were clipped, carrying a palpable edge.
"Set up a perimeter around this area with everyone on patrol. No one gets in, and no one gets out. We only know of the two Dread Hunters we've seen thus far, but there could be more lurking around," he commanded, his eyes narrowing as they swept over to the patrol boat.
"Ms. O'Hara, stay put and stay out of the way. Understood?"
Unbeknownst to Fortier, Jackie had already slipped into the boat while they encircled Neil, just as a sudden shotgun blast shattered the tense air.
"Ms. O'Hara? Ms. O'Hara? What did I tell her?" Fortier muttered angrily to himself, assuming Jackie had landed herself in trouble. "Get to work, now!" he shouted, his voice a whip-crack as he sprinted toward the source of the noise.
As Fortier boarded the boat, Jackie persisted in her search for the remaining hunter. She cautiously explored the vessel, eventually ascending to the captain's quarters and control room on the third floor for a better view of the boat's layout.
Upon opening the door, she narrowly avoided falling through a hole in the floor, which held a dark abyss without a single glimmer of light.
"That was close," she murmured, quickly compiling information about the boat's structure and what she had observed aboard. "If my guess is correct, this used to be one of those tourist steamboats that showed people around the outskirts of the kingdom, where the sea borders the lower parishes. Wonder what it's doing all the way out here in the middle of the swamp."
Jackie's curiosity briefly got the best of her, drawing her into the familiar trance she often experienced when faced with the unknown, but she knew better than to let the trance hold her for long. Her days of dealing in the unknown were far behind her, ever since she was unable to figure out the disappearance of three missing individuals. Eventually she was convinced to retire from being a contractor, and dedicated the rest of her time to caring for her parents until they passed away. One passed from a disease caused by cigarettes, the other from natural causes. But despite being retired, there were still certain occasions that required her presence—occasions only she was capable of overcoming.
MOVING THROUGH THE STORAGE ROOM WITH HIS FLASHLIGHT SECURED TO HIS chest, Fortier advanced with a balance of speed and caution. In the eerie silence, only his footsteps and breath echoed in his ears as he scanned for any trace of the Dread Hunter, Jackie, or the child he had glimpsed.
"I expressly told her to stay put on the patrol boat; she's going to end up getting herself killed and tarnishing the reputation I'm building," he fumed, lost in his frustration.
He turned corners sharply, aiming the iron sight of his gun ahead of him. As he maneuvered, he felt something snag his ankle, causing him to crash to the floor, sending crates and barrels tumbling over him. With the boat's eerie quietness, the loud crash reverberated, prompting everyone aboard to spring into action and head towards the source of the noise.
"Oh? I must've caught a little mouse in my trap," Theo smirked, taking off, running down a flight of stairs.
Jackie glanced over at a map of the boat's layout before dropping through the hole, moving from floor to floor toward the sound.
Noir silently traversed through the shadows, following Theo to investigate the commotion.
"Aahhh, you've got to be kidding me. I think I sprained my shoulder." Fortier winced as he lay face-down on the ground, his flashlight strewn on the floor.
With his good arm, he sat up, brushed off the debris, and grabbed his flashlight. He shone it on himself, checking for injuries. His uniform sleeve was torn, and his arm was bruised and littered with splinters from the crates.
"Commander Fortier? To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting the rising star and the youngest commander the kingdom's police has ever seen? Oh my."
Theo glanced at Fortier's wounds. "Not having the best night now, are we?"
Fortier stopped inspecting himself. His heart sank at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Slowly, he shined his light forward, revealing Theo's face.
"But I can think of a few things that are a whole lot worse."
Theo let out a sly laugh, leveling his shotgun at Fortier.
Fortier's eyes widened before narrowing, a fleeting vulnerability crossing his features. In that moment, fear crept onto his face—a stark contrast to the strong, authoritative presence he had always maintained for his men and himself. It was the first time he had been held at gunpoint in an uncontrolled environment, and the experience was overwhelming. He was only in his second year as Commander of the CPD, and despite graduating at the top of his academy class, this real-world challenge was an entirely different test.
Is this how it ends for me? No heroics, no grand farewell? I can't accept it. I deserve a hero's death, one that echoes through the annals of history—not a demise swallowed by the swamp's shadows. I won't be forgotten. I won't allow it. This kingdom must recognize the greatness I've brought to it. This isn't the death befitting a statue in the capital.
I deserve immortality. I want to live beyond this moment.
Suddenly, a voice from behind Theo snapped Fortier out of his spiraling thoughts.
"Surely, a big gun like that is one of them," the voice remarked. "Dumb question, I know, but do you have a permit for that thing?"
Fortier's flashlight swept to Theo's right. There stood Jackie, her revolver pressed against his back, poised to act if necessary.
"A civilian with a gun is a rare sight, given the tight firearm restrictions in this kingdom," Jackie noted.
"Says the civilian packing heavy heat," Theo shot back, glancing over his shoulder at her.
"Oh? You can tell I'm a civilian?"
"Some form of law enforcement, but retired nonetheless. You're wearing CPD gear, but it's too casual for an operation like this—especially compared to the rest of your team. Not only that, but there's something about you. You smell different, lady, and I'm not just talking about that light perfume you're wearing."
Jackie smirked. "Wow, color me impressed. Y'know, I always had a soft spot for hunters back when I was an active contractor. If the two were related, they'd be cousins, no doubt. You fellas have some of the best trackers I've ever met."
"Ahem, I hate to break up this heartwarming interaction, but if we could come back to reality, please?!"
Commander Fortier intervened, irritated with the nonchalant nature of the conversation—even if it did ease some of the tension.
"Alright, alright, folks, I know when I've been bested."
Theo surrendered. Lowering his shotgun, he handed it over to Jackie.
"Here, take this, Ms. Boss Lady. I don't think your junior here would know what to do with it. Keep it safe for me, m'kay?"
Theo smirked, toying with the idea that Jackie was the one calling the shots. It was a petty attempt to fluster the commander, but an effective one. He saw the way his words and actions wormed their way under Fortier's skin. The idea of an outsider—an unofficial member of his team—being perceived as the one in charge gnawed at him.
"My apologies for this, Commander," Jackie said, clearing her throat. "But you both should probably move."
Before either man could react, Jackie shoved Theo forward into Fortier, letting go of the shotgun he'd handed her.
She had sensed something coming. It carried no bloodlust, yet its intent was unmistakable—death.
As Theo stumbled, something sharp sliced through the air where his neck had been, grazing his hair and shearing off a few strands.
"Woah there, that was a bit too close for comfort. What if you had hit me?" Jackie remarked, as Fortier fumbled for his flashlight, shining it across from her.
There stood Noir, eyeing Theo. His attempt at taking the Dread Hunter's head had been thwarted, and his cover under the blanket of darkness was gone.
"It's the kid!" shouted Fortier.
"Hey there, champ!" Theo let out a sly chuckle as he rolled off of Fortier, dusting himself off. "I guess you got your get back from earlier," he said, his attention drawn toward Noir's axe. "You should be careful—that thing's no toy."
Now that his cover was blown, Noir had no choice but to be direct. He pounced on Theo, but as he did, he felt a snag. Jackie had grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him to the ground.
"Not so fast there," she explained. "We aren't here to hurt you."
"Well, I'm not, but we're almost certain that he is," she gestured to Theo. "Let's just talk."
But Noir wasn't in a talking mood—not that he did much talking anyway. He rarely opened his mouth for anything other than eating. He'd stopped crying a long time ago. He'd stopped talking a long time ago. If it wasn't a necessity for survival, he stopped doing it a long time ago. Even his thoughts had been silenced until tonight.
Quickly, Noir recovered, turning over onto all fours. Supernaturally, he leapt into the air with his axe in hand, twisting his body as he swung his weapon at Jackie.
As if it were too easy, Jackie waved her hand, knocking his weapon out of his grip with the back of her wrist. But that didn't stop Noir—because with a second twist of his body came an uppercut that Jackie hadn't expected. It almost grazed her chin, but she fluently sidestepped him.
The storage area was a tight squeeze for a fight, but both Jackie and Noir knew how to use it and what they were capable of doing in it.
As the two continued fighting—Jackie mainly countering and dodging Noir in an attempt to tire him out—they utilized anything and everything in their environment. Whether it was a crate that Noir used to spring off of, or a pipe that Jackie used to block Noir's punches, they used the space to its fullest potential.
While the fighting went on, Theo glanced around, looking for his shotgun.
"Aha, there you are."
"Not so fast!" Fortier's words were followed by a click as he aimed his gun at Theo's back. "Move, and I'll clear this entire cylinder."
"Oh my, look at you. Where'd all this courage come from all of a sudden? Just a minute ago, you looked like you were gonna mess your pants." Theo grinned, raising his hands in the air. "I get it. I'd feel confident too if I had someone like your superior over there taking the lead."
"She's not my superior." Fortier rose to his feet, making sure not to take his eyes off Theo for even a second.
"Hey!" he yelled out, sweat dripping from his brow. Being inside the cramped metal confines of the boat only multiplied the heat. "Will you stop playing around and wrap it up already?" He asked Jackie. "Unless he's somehow actually too much for you to handle."
"Oh, please," Jackie responded, taking up the attack. Maneuvering through Noir's strikes, she grabbed him by the face and slammed him to the ground, knocking him out. "I was just having fun, Fortier."
THE SUNRISE PAINTED THE HORIZON WITH ITS GOLDEN HUES, FILTERING THROUGH the tangled branches of the swamp's trees. Mirroring this natural awakening, the occupants of the steamboat began to surface.
Leading the way, Theo emerged from the boat, his hands bound in cuffs, under the watchful escort of Commander Fortier. As they descended from the boat, an officer intercepted Theo, guiding him toward a waiting police vehicle on the river for his departure.
"It looks like I missed the party. Everything taken care of, Commander?" Chief Nkosi inquired upon his arrival at the scene.
Chief Kota Nkosi was an older gentleman, his hair gray and his voice coarse, with a slight hunch in his back and knees from the test of time.
"Yes, sir. I've only received a minor injury from having to subdue the perpetrator," Fortier began, mentioning nothing of his men.
"Uncle Kota!" Jackie interrupted as she exited the boat, her face lighting up at the sight of her fictive kin. "You should've seen this kid fight; he was pretty good," she said, holding Noir at her side as if he were a mere puppy.
"Is that so? You'll have to fill me in on it once we get back to the department."
Chief Nkosi was no stranger to the random and seemingly crazy things Jackie did from time to time. At this point, he'd just learned to accept them.
"Thanks again for the information. It was spot-on, as usual."
"Chief Nkosi, a word, sir?" Officer Braun requested, having returned empty-handed from his pursuit.
"What is it, son?"
"It's the other Dread Hunter, sir. There were two, but we lost track of the other one during our pursuit through the swamp."
"Is that so?" Chief Nkosi responded. "Well, one is better than none. Don't worry about it, son; I'm sure they'll turn up soon enough."
Chief Kota Nkosi, well aware of the dangers posed by both the Dread Hunters and the swamp, remained unfazed by his men not being able to track down their target on foot.