“That would explain some of the lacerations. Do you know how long he was held? Try to think, Sepia. Was it two hours, three?”
“I don’t know, maybe three–four hours? I got the call in the early evening and Gan told me he left the hospital early.”
“Who is Gan?” said the Doctor.
“How is that relevant to treating Cade?”
“I have to place all present parties during the time of the injury.”
“Are you going to put down the Nightmare that did this to him, too? Should I get you its info?” She was getting angrier by the second.
“This is just a formality, Sepia. I need to file an incident report, especially if this occurred in the park. You do know the park is off-limits to hunters?”
She glared daggers at him, regretting telling him anything. Typical bureaucrat, everything is red tape and procedure, she thought.
He tapped his keyboard some more and adjusted his bifocals as he looked up at Sepia. The note in her hand felt heavy. What does the nurse want?
“Can you tell me what you were doing in the park?”
“No, I can’t, and I don’t see how this is helping Cade.”
“I can assure you Mr. Kincade will get the best treatment possible. Excuse me while I make some calls.”
As he stood up, he put a hand on her shoulder, a gesture of comfort. She knew then she had made a mistake telling him.
“Thank you, Sepia, if you would just wait here, I’ll be back shortly.”
“Sure, thank you, Doctor Clark.”
“Arthur, please call me Arthur.”
“Where is the bathroom around here?” Sepia said as she stood.
“Two doors down on your right, and I’ll be right back.”
Everything was telling her something was off. What is with the interrogation? She entered the bathroom and found an empty stall. Opening the small piece of paper, she saw the scrawled handwriting. There were only four words. Four words that gut-punched her.
Cade not here--RUN.
She flushed the paper and stepped out of the bathroom. Why would they take Cade and where? She never liked the smell of hospitals. They smelled of death and despair. She always found them sterile and cold. She looked at the exit and saw hospital security stationed there. As she made her way to the garage, she heard the footfalls behind her.
“Miss. Blue, a moment please.”
It was another security guard.
She blasted through the door and ran to the bike. Leaning against it was a man dressed in a dark suit, his bronze skin contrasting against his white shirt. He had a gun in his hand.
“Hello, Blue, long time,” said the suit. He had a slight accent; each word was a crisp breath. That voice, can it be, Ronin? It can’t be. Her hand flew to her holster. His face was different, but she could never forget that voice.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice,” said the suit.
Sepia drew her pistol and almost got the shot off. She was stopped as she raised her arm. Every muscle in her body contracted as fifty thousand volts slammed her to the ground. The pain that followed overwhelmed her defenses and the world grew dark.
“The hard way, then,” said the suit.
TEN
Jonathan Marks sat behind the large table and looked at the seated figure before him. They were in one of the interrogation sites, an empty cell, two doors, two chairs and a table. He waited patiently until Sepia regained consciousness. He sat back and steepled his fingers as she came to.
“Hello, Sepia. Welcome back,” said Marks.
Her weapons were gone and she was chained to the chair, which was bolted to the ground. She pulled against them anyway, testing their limits.
“That chain was made with hunters in mind, but if you must, please, feel free.”
She knew it was pointless. So she sat motionless.
“You tazed me?”
“It was a necessary precaution. You drew on me,” said Marks.
Aside from an intense soreness that was quickly dissipating thanks to her ink, she felt almost normal.
“Where’s Cade?” She was feeling stronger by the moment.
“I’m sure he’s safe and being treated for his injuries. Those were some nasty injuries by the way,” said Marks. “Do you know who I am?”
“Should I know you? You look like another suit to me,” said Sepia. “Speaking of which, where is this? We aren’t Home.”
She could tell from the cell that she was in one of the offsite facilities. One of the places where the Order made people disappear.
“My name is Jonathan Marks and I am second to the Overseer for Manhattan South.”
“Oh, you work for the head suit.” God, hate these types, in an office all day never setting foot in the field, too good to get their hands dirty.
“I am the head suit, Miss. Blue. The Overseer is just what you would call a figurehead position. I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation, Miss. Blue,” said Marks.
“Educate me.” That voice. He sounds just like Ronin, but that’s impossible. I killed Ronin.
“You violated a standing order against entering a restricted area. I have one gunman dead and your gunman was critically injured in some strange attempt to capture you.”
“I had nothing to do with that,” said Sepia.
“Regardless, you were the catalyst.”
“You know as much as I do, probably more,” said Sepia.
“Oh, on that we can agree,” said Marks.
Marks stood from the table and faced the wall sized mirror, his hands behind his back. Sepia followed the motion, knowing that behind that mirror others were watching. He turned to face her again.
“You know what I find even more disturbing? I am seeing high threat level creatures breaching a ward that is supposed to be unbreachable, and they are asking for you by name, Miss. Blue.”
“How the hell am I supposed to know anything about that?”
“I hear you are having trouble with your sword,” said Marks matter-of- factly.
“What? What the hell?” He caught her off-guard.
“Well, how does a hunter with your obvious pedigree have a problem with a named blade?”
Marks leaned against the mirror and crossed his arms, never taking his eyes off of her.
“I, I don’t know, I’m just not focusing enough. I’m still working through it,” said Sepia, flustered.
“Do you realize a man died while handling your blade? Completely absorbed him, turned to dust I believe the reports say.”
“I’m going to guess he tried removing it from its scabbard. Don’t you suits know anything? You never touch a hunter’s blade,” said Sepia, the anger returning.
“Tell me, Miss. Blue, how do you explain the blackouts? Can you explain the obvious exponential increase in strength, and the fact that you took a Threat level 6 Nightmare on your own?”
“I can’t.”
“I have a theory. Would you like to hear it?”
Sepia lifted her arms, raising the chains around her wrists. The heavy links rattled and fell to the floor, pulling her arms down.
“Doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere,” said Sepia.
“Well, before I share it, I’d like to discuss your eyes.”
“My eyes? Really?” said Sepia.
Marks walked over to the table and sat down, looking at Sepia. He placed both hands on the table and leaned forward.
“There is one other creature we know of that has eyes like yours,” said Marks.
He placed special emphasis on the word ‘creature’. It had the desired effect.
“It’s a specific type of Nightmare,” he said, lowering his voice.
Sepia lunged at him, but the chains held her in place. Marks didn’t register her movement.
“Fuck you,” she said.
“Like I was saying, this type of Nightmare is somewhat rare and was only documented once, thirty years ago. After killing twenty veteran hunters,
two of which had named blades, it was able to escape back into the park.”
“Your point?” said Sepia.
“Do you recall your father, Sepia?” The question threw her. What the fuck? were the only words she could form.
“My father was killed when I was born. If you’re with the Overseer, you know this. What the hell are you trying to say?”
“Your eyes, Miss. Blue, they only point to one logical conclusion. You are the child of a Nightmare and a human,” said Marks.
He sat back as Sepia looked at him in shock.
“Sir,” a voice came over the intercom. “We have a perimeter breach. One vehicle carrying one passenger, armed.”
The building was rocked by an explosion. Sepia sat still, dumbfounded. Could it be true? Could her father be a Nightmare?
Marks turned to the mirror.
“Find out what that was. I have no intention of losing our guest here.” He pointed at Sepia.
Smoke filled the corridor and crept in under the door. The door behind Sepia began to bulge in. Marks opened the other door and allowed the pressure to regulate. The door settled into the frame and then exploded inwards. Marks avoided the brunt of the blast and pulled out his gun.
The door missed Sepia and bounced into the mirrored wall, shattering it. Sepia could see the monitors inside and the group of Unholy that were coming for her. Marks shot the first figure that entered the room. Several more of the Unholy were making their way down the corridor to Sepia’s location.
“It would seem this is a battle for another day, Miss. Blue. Think about what I told you. Do us all a favor and kill yourself now while you still can. It looks like your father’s side of the family has come to get you.” He spat out the last sentence with a hatred that was palpable.
He opened the other door and ran out of the room, shooting as he ran. Sepia took stock of her situation. I am not going to die here. She had maybe ten seconds before they found her. She pulled on the chains until they cut into her skin, drawing blood. Pulling with all her strength, she strained until she saw spots dancing in her eyes. The bolts groaned and snapped as she ripped the chains out of the floor. The hanging chains mocked her, mute reminders that she was more than a hunter. Another explosion rocked the building, threatening to collapse the structure.
Sepia ran down a corridor. Where am I? This is definitely an offsite but where? She saw that the building was an old industrial facility, once used as a stapler factory judging from the worn signs. She carefully made her way around the hallways. The smoke and noise were disorienting. Unholy ran in the corridors. She felt unarmed until she looked down at her wrists. She wrapped the chains once around each hand. It left her with a three foot length of chain hanging from each one. It’s not a sword but it will do. She caught one of the minions by the neck and dragged him to the ground. Where is the Nightmare? The minions were pretty mindless and would need the direction of a Nightmare to coordinate their movements. These were too organized to be here alone. A Nightmare had to be in the building.
“Sepia!” she heard someone yell behind her.
“Gan?” She must be imagining things. Why would Gan be here? How did he find her?
Looking through the haze of smoke she saw a figure that could only be her old trainer.
“Who else? Get your ass over here, before we’re overrun. These guys have a real hard-on for you,” said Gan.
She could just make out Gan in the smoke-filled corridor. He threw her a gun. She used both hands to catch it because of the chains. Turning, she shot two of the Unholy that came down the corridor.
“What the hell are those? Accessories?” Gan said looking at the chains.
She held up the other chain to show him the cuffs.
“Hunter restraints, the latest in fashion,” said Sepia.
“We’ll deal with that later. Let’s get out of here, go!”
They ran out the door into a large asphalt lot. An SUV with tinted windows was sitting there with the doors open and the engine running. Gan took off at a run.
“That’s our ride, move it blueberry!”
She ran beside him and they reached the vehicle and jumped in. Gan jumped in the driver’s side and took off. Another explosion collapsed the roof of the building, compromising its integrity. The building fell in on itself belching fire and smoke everywhere.
“Cade?” Sepia whispered as she looked at the inferno behind her.
“He wasn’t in there with you. We intercepted him before they moved him out of the Main Infirmary.”
“That’s why you wanted me to go to the Main. Where are we?”
“Queens. Long Island City to be precise,” said Gan.
“Are we heading back in?”
She looked back at the burnt out husk that was the factory. The fire would burn for hours, it seemed.
Gan nodded as he checked his mirrors. He made sure they weren’t being followed before he headed to the 59th Street Bridge. No one called it the Koch Bridge.
“What the hell are the Unholy doing way out here?” said Sepia.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” said Gan.
“Who was leading this op, Sepia?”
“It was a suit, went by the name of Marks, Jonathan Marks.”
“The Overseer’s right hand?” Why would he be out here dealing with a hunter? “What did he say to you?”
Sepia looked out the window. She couldn’t face him and tell him what Marks had told her.
“C’mon, Blue, you know you can tell me anything,” said Gan as he swerved to avoid bridge traffic.
She decided to change the subject.
“How did you find me, Gan?”
He knew this was a delaying tactic. She had used it ever since she was a little girl. He lifted up his wrist and showed her a bracelet similar to the one she wore. Encrusted in it were small blue gems.
“Your bracelet. The gems are keyed to each other. I can find you anywhere within a ten-mile radius. I tracked you from the infirmary and followed your escort here,” said Gan.
She looked at her bracelet.
“Can this screw with my geolocation?”
“Hmm, I didn’t think of that, it’s possible. In any case, I thought it strange that the Order would be heading out to Queens in the middle of the night unless something major was happening. You turned out to be the major something.”
“I’ve only heard the stories about the off-sites. It’s where they make people vanish. I didn’t think they were real,” she said.
Gan nodded.
“Too real for my taste,” said Gan. “Want to tell me what he said, Blue?”
“He said my father--” her voice caught in her throat. “He said my father was some kind of rare Nightmare. He said that’s the reason for these,” she said pointing at her eyes. “He said it’s why I blackout and I can’t align with my sword.”
The words came out fast and hurried. The tears started then and she wiped her face.
“Sepia, that’s a lie,” said Gan.
She turned to face him, angry. Her jaw was clenched along with her fists.
“Calm down, Blue, it’s never been heard of before. In all the time I’ve been with the Order, there has never been a documented case of a child born from Nightmares. Those things are made, they don’t have parents,” said Gan.
She wanted to believe him, but it still nagged at her. Marks was too convincing.
“I’m going to need to access the archives,” she said.
“That’s going to be tricky, since the Archives are secured under Home. Besides, what will that prove?”
“He said something about an incident thirty years ago, so maybe I can find out more about that Nightmare,” said Sepia.
Gan knew which incident Marks was referring to. Bryant Park. Maybe it’s time she knew the truth.
“I think it’s a waste of time, but if you have to know, we’ll send someone. You can’t go,” said Gan. “I don’t know if Marks is acting alone or as an extension of your Overs
eer. Until then, Home is off-limits.”
“You can’t go Home again,” she said to herself and laughed, the nervous laughter borne of fear and stress.
“Blue, that was horrible. I stand by what I said though. I’ve never heard of a Nightmare child. I will get it checked out, though.”
“It makes sense, Gan. Every other hunter I know with this much time on the job doesn’t have a problem with their blades.”
“You don’t know all of the hunters, especially not the named blades. They have practiced and trained much harder than you, Sepia.”
“What if he’s right? What if I’m part Nightmare?”
“As unlikely as that is, it still wouldn’t change who or what you are. You are a hunter.”
“It would change everything.”
She looked out of the window at the approaching skyline.
I know she is right, if it’s true would I be able to protect her? They crossed the bridge and Gan turned left onto Second Avenue heading downtown.
“Let’s go get Cade,” said Gan.
ELEVEN
They were back in Sepia’s sector.
“If Nightmares are looking for you this is where they would look: your sector.”
“So I’m bait now?” said Sepia.
“Yes, unless you know why they want you and a better way to attract them?” Gan offered. “Let’s go over to Broadway and take the Westside Highway. That should expose you plenty.”
Gan left the truck on Canal Street, the Order plates assuring it wouldn’t get towed. They started walking. Sepia felt hyper alert expecting an attack at any moment. Gan took out her weapons from the back and handed them to her. She strapped her sword to her back, the weight a welcome comfort. Each gun rested in its holster.
“He sounded like Ronin,” said Sepia.
“Who did?” Gan looked at her, concern etched in his face.
“Marks did. I swear, if I didn’t look at his face, I would have thought Ronin was in front me.”
“You took care of Ronin, remember?”
Gan didn’t like where this was going.
“Remember? I put three bullets in his chest. How could I forget?”
“Ronin is long gone, you’re just tired. When was the last time you slept?”
Rise of the Night (Sepia Blue Book 1) Page 5
