Riders on the Storm

Intoxcy8me is a Texan urban Science Fiction & Fantasy author!

Intoxcy8me ®  ©

Shadow Saga Series:
Shadow Riders

Click on Prologue ↓ to start reading!

Prologue

The sky was burning. No, not burning, glowing red from the sun's ray, like the blood of a fresh cut on ones finger. A storm was brewing but not of this reality, devouring the universe. You could see silent lightning strobes in the distance. Hunter turned towards it and the rain plastered him in the face, he winced at the sight. Hesitation lingered in the black air. Hunter pulls his storm coat over his head as he leaves the tent, partly to fend off the rain, and partly to cover his weapons. The edge of the skyline flicks on and off with the unnerving lightning strikes, far away, like a malfunctioning lamp filament that refuses to stay lit. Men have gathered around the cook tents, waiting for their food, hunkered down with their backs turned against the weather. They half-watch him approach, shrouded, hooded, some of the men were supping from mess cans. They watch him approach, a few gestured vaguely. Hunter’s Ghosts. Someone had come up with that within a few days of their first deployment. As he clamber down the slope, tongues of streaks rush down through the blackened clouds, hissing and sighing.

A howl rips through the air, stopping him, it echos across dark-shrouded mountain peaks. Crouching, a sword in each hand. It was the cry of a beast, a large one by the sound of it. Something moves on the next dramatic outcry, a monstrous shape, coiling through the dark clouds. Someone bellows a war cry, deep and savage, almost as bestial as the howl that preceded it. There’s a flash of light and clang of metal hitting stone. There’s another deafening howl and an answering battle cry, followed by the sound of smashing rocks. Peering into the dark clouds, there’s something big moving in there. The figures are shuddering like they’re in the grip of a storm. I look up at the jagged edges, moving towards the sound of the fighting. All the troops power combined wasn't enough to stop the power locked inside the storm. Everyone stopped, huddled at the entrance to the command tent. Hardly a breath was heard. Instead, they stared in speechless dread at an unexpected sight. A cratonic form stretches across the sky, you think: That can’t be right. You haven’t even seen the creatures yet, and already they’re running rings around you.

Looking around me, I see disturbing forms taking shape. It wasn’t until the branches of the oak trees blackened against the horizon that I pushed myself to get to the source of the sounds. I found my focus point as a torrent of flames showered down upon me, slowing my progress. It reached the camp and began turning everything to ash. Blocking it completely from my sight were two vast wings of a shadow. My trance was broken by another roar. Time was impossible to keep track of, so I didn’t know how often it had happened. It took a lot of energy to kill something with nothing but sheer brutality. Despite my reaction to all that was happening in the campsite, my feet were nailed to the ground. Somewhere in the unknowable depths of my mind, a thought occurs. Its echo told me that I should be attacking them, but an unseen force compelled me to do nothing more than stare at the sky as they drew nearer. I saw the creatures as they descended from the huge black clouds hanging low in the sky. I knew their name, but it was to late to inform any of my men. It seems they’re getting closer to what they’re looking for.

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 going to school. 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, the groping fingers of an angry beast

Blending a new body of air and black smoke, I redoubled my efforts to outpace the main storm, the unthinkable reservoir of power I had loosed. I 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 me with hideous speed, as incomprehensible and lethal as the gaze of a basilisk. On the way, I find myself 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 the 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 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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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 wolves 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 wolves howling had grown, increasing as the moon's reflection begin the illuminate the night.

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 wolves 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. She 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 Abe 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 bed 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. 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, yellow like his, a wolf's 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 wolves 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 wolves. He had been right, a struggle of some kind. Had the wolves 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 wolf clan. Yes, Hunter thought, the fact that another storm was definitely on the way was of little importance. AlI 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.

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.

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 his 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 the 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. Thhe 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.

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