In full force, the Dread Hunters rolled out, making their way back to the kingdom.
Behind them, Commander Fortier staggered from the wreckage, disoriented.
"Hey, wait a minute!" he shouted after the departing motorcycles. "How the hell am I supposed to get back?" Frustration carved lines into his face as he balled his fists. "You damned Dread Hunters!"
A hoggish voice answered him. "Hey, don't you worry, commander." A man stepped forward—massive like a mammoth, with a deep voice that rumbled through your chest. "Goliath will get you where you need to go."
Fortier turned to face him—and immediately looked as if he regretted asking.
Not long after Goliath and Fortier sped off for the kingdom.
The truck groaned under its own weight. A low rumble echoed inside the wreckage, followed by the metallic scrape of movement.
Newbie, still dazed and trembling, stirred in the debris. The silence was eerie now, broken only by the creaks of the battered frame and the distant sound of fading engines.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small knife, and began sawing at the twisted seatbelt pinning him in place. The blade slipped more than it cut, slicing into his fingers more than the nylon, but after several jagged tears, the belt gave way.
He stumbled forward, his limbs refusing to work together. As he reached the open doorway, he slipped and fell on his hands, catching himself in a puddle.
The liquid felt warm, thick. Panic seized him as he looked down at his hands, slick with blood.
"I–is this…" his voice trembled as he stared at his hands. "Officer Braun." The name barely escaped his lips before he scrambled out of the truck and doubled over, vomiting onto the grass. The stench of death—thick, and final—was already in the air.
Why is this happening? he thought, just before another wave surged from his stomach and hit the dirt like a projectile. I want to go home. This isn't what I signed up for. He wiped his mouth with a shaky sleeve. I thought being an officer would be easy. Safe. Something to do until retirement. This is Meteor Kingdom, for crying out loud. Nothing bad ever really happens here.
As doubt and panic clouded his mind, a single, sharp thought cut through the noise: Wait a minute. Nobody knows they're coming.
Eyes wide, Newbie spun around and scrambled toward the front of the truck. He caught sight of Officer Daniels slumped over the steering wheel and immediately turned his head, vomiting again with a guttural choke. Tears stung his eyes, but he pressed forward, adrenaline now guiding his limbs.
He began kicking at the cracked windshield, each hit jarring his leg, until it finally splintered open. With careful, trembling hands, he reached through the opening, unlocking the front console.
The radio… Please let it still work.
He snatched the receiver and yelled into it, "Hello?! Hello?! This is Officer Newbie of the Crescent Parish Police Department! Chief, are you there?! Please respond! They're coming!"
The line crackled with life, but no reply came.
Only silence.
Newbie's heart sank.
Unbeknownst to him, the Dread Hunters had calculated every detail—including trapping the transport within a known dead zone, cutting off all outgoing signals. The radio was alive.
But no one could hear him.
"Dang it!" Newbie shook his head. "I have to report this. I have to warn the department... They're going to raid Auclair. And Commander…" His voice faltered as his eyes locked onto Officer Daniels' lifeless body. His breath hitched, the weight of betrayal heavy on his chest. "Commander Fortier's on their side. He turned on his own men. It's unforgivable."
A pulse of rage swelled in him, burning away the numbness that had crept into his bones. This wasn't just about survival anymore. This was about justice. His gut twisted at the thought of Fortier aligning with those monsters. He couldn't let it stand.
He pushed himself to his feet, clenching his fists until his knuckles ached. Without a moment's hesitation, he turned and ran, each step driven by the need to stop the bloodshed. He knew he couldn't catch up to the Dread Hunters on foot—he wasn't stupid—but if he could just make it to one of the departments, or find a radio with a signal, maybe—just maybe—he could stop Fortier before he set his plan in motion. Before Auclair was bled dry.