Eric Fortier lowered his binoculars, his gaze shifting from the distant glow to the woman seated nearby. Even among seasoned officers, she was an anomaly—unbothered, detached, as if this were just another night. The tension on the boat didn't reach her; she simply nodded along to the Mister Jamsman in her lap, lost in whatever cassette she'd chosen for the evening.
Despite lacking an official rank, everything about her presence spoke of experience. The CPD breaker jacket draped over her shoulders barely concealed the shoulder holster beneath, her pistol nestled within easy reach. A matching hat shadowed her features, but rebellious curls escaped its hold, half-veiling the face that would otherwise make her unmistakable. Her posture, too, defied the weight of the operation—legs crossed, one atop the other, ripped jeans meeting the sturdy black leather of combat boots.
Even with all the lethal equipment she bore, her frame remained deceptively slim and delicate even without the black longsleeve she wore. It was a stark contrast to the skills and abilities she wielded, a testament to the unexpected strength contained within her seemingly unassuming presence. She sat there, an intriguing portrait of a woman whose authority transcended the need for official titles.
"Ms. O'Hara," Fortier called out, his voice competing with the swamp's ambiance and the blaring music playing through the headphones of her Mister Jamsman. Fortier waited for her response, but when she didn't answer, he called her name again.
"Ms. O'Hara, can–"
"I heard you. I was waiting for you to continue on with what you had to say," Jackie O'Hara said as she paused her music, the upbeat tune coming to an immediate halt.
As she slid her headphones off her ears and around her neck, her gaze met the commander's. Both seemed slightly irritated, hinting at their short tempers and dissatisfaction.
"Well, what is it?"
"Given your background and your experience dealing with these types of criminals—"
"They're called Dread Hunters," she interjected, her voice husky yet soft.
Ignoring her, Fortier continued, "I trust that you'll manage yourself properly if things get out of hand."
"Awe, how sweet. Don't worry about me, Commander; if I were someone who needed looking after, I would've kicked the bucket quite some time ago," she said with a sly grin.
Eyeing her from down his nose, Fortier gave an unamused response. "We'll be relying on that. Due to your firsthand experience dealing with these Dread Hunters, someone in the department deemed your presence here would be 'absolutely invaluable'."
Turning away from Ms. O'Hara, Fortier shifted his focus to his subordinates. "Alright, men, the culprits are just a few hundred meters out. Get ready to move," he commanded.
"Let me have a look," Jackie requested, extending her hand.
The officers exchanged subtle glances, their silent murmurs hinting at the rarity of someone questioning the commander's judgment. In fact, no one had ever dared do such a thing. Amidst the whispers, Jackie reassured Commander Fortier, emphasizing that her intention was not to challenge but to aid, just as the Chief had instructed her to do.
"This isn't me doubting your direct intel, Commander, but considering how I'm the only one who's seen their faces, it would make sense for me to verify their identities."
Fortier began taking the binoculars from around his neck when Jackie snatched them from his hand.
"No need for that; this'll only take a second," Jackie said as she began peering through them, bringing the commander down to her height.
Taken by surprise, Fortier grunted. His squad resumed their murmuring once again, their discussion centered on the unexpected position their leader had found himself in. Fortier quickly snapped his head in their direction, silencing them.
Pressing a finger to his ear, he held down on his push-to-talk earpiece that connected him directly to the Chief of Police.
"Chief, come in," he muttered, a subtle edge of frustration punctuating his tone, careful to keep his words from carrying beyond his immediate vicinity.
"Commander Fortier? Is everything alright out there?" Chief Kota Nkosi's voice crackled through the device after a brief pause and a hint of static.
"Everything's fine, but are you sure it's permissible for a civilian to be present in the field?"
"Ah, you mean Ms. O'Hara?" the chief replied. "She'll be fine. Believe it or not, she's a valuable asset in a pinch. She's a seasoned contractor in a league of her own, just like her late father. Not to mention she can go toe-to-toe with the best of them. You don't want to get on the bad side of a woman like that."
Fortier released a resigned sigh.
The chief's next words carried a subtle weight with them. "Ms. O'Hara's involvement is crucial, Commander. For everyone's safety, do not hold her back. If lethal force needs to be taken, she's the only one capable of doing so effectively."
Fortier glanced down at Jackie, a silent acknowledgment of the chief's directive. "What are you saying? That we're all inferior to her? What is it that makes you place so much trust in her?"
"Son, her capabilities are beyond what either you or I can even fathom. I've seen them firsthand, and once you do, it'll make you really question your standing in this world."
"No man alive can make me question my standing in this world, Chief. It was predetermined, and I've never once strayed from the path. The law is my standing, and I am the law. Just as my father was in our former kingdom and his father before him."
Jackie glanced over at Fortier, having caught the last lines of what he said. She'd met many men in her life who thought the same way. Very few lived up to those words, while most only played with them. She could only wonder which Fortier was in a relatively peaceful place like Meteor Kingdom.
"That's real good," the chief replied, unsure of what to say. "Everything will be fine, Fortier. Trust your judgment, keep communication clear, and be careful out there."
"Yes, sir. Over and out."
"Have a fun chat, Mr. Law?" Jackie asked, teasing him.
"You'll be staying put when things commence," declared Fortier, despite the chief's words.
Unresponsive to the commander, Jackie's focus sharpened as she adjusted the binoculars. Her attention was drawn to an unexpected sight.
A tourist boat? she thought to herself.
Having already confirmed the identification of the Dread Hunters, she zoomed in, taken aback as she spotted Noir crouched on the third story of the boat. Her gaze fixed on him as he straightened up, reaching beneath the lower part of his shirt and pulling something from his pants. Curiosity gnawed at Jackie's mind as she attempted to anticipate his next move.
"Did you hear me, Ms. O'Hara?" Fortier asked, unable to cut through her concentration.
Gripping his axe in hand, Noir descended to the second story of the boat.
Without hesitation, Jackie pushed the binoculars back to Fortier.
"We have to get in there now, before we have casualties on our hands," she commanded, her demeanor becoming increasingly worried.
"What? What are you talking about?" Fortier asked, taking a look through the binoculars. Looking further than before, he saw the boat, and he saw Noir. "A child?"
Jackie hastily approached the officer in charge of driving their patrol boat, her voice brimming with anxiousness. "You need to get this thing moving, now!"
"My apologies, Ms. O'Hara, but I only take orders from Commander Fortier."
"There is a boy on that boat! Would you let a child die because your commander didn't issue an order to save them?"
"I'm sorry, Ms. O'Hara. I can't move without the commander's order."
Jackie grabbed the officer by his bulletproof vest. "How about we see how quickly he can order someone to save you?" she said, as she began reaching for the firearm beneath her jacket.
"Never mind that, Officer Daniels; this time, do as she says."
Fortier's order was a smug one. He felt pride knowing his men saw his command as something so vital.
"On it, Commander!" Daniels replied nervously, sweat beading on his forehead as Jackie locked eyes with him.
Flipping on the patrol boat's searchlights, the darkness divided. Throttling the boat, Officer Daniels slammed the motor shift forward, sending the boat zooming off. The vessel sliced through the water, leaving ripples in its wake as it closed in on its destination along the river. The loud engine and lights gained both the Dread Hunters and Noir's attention, bringing both parties to a halt.
Focusing the searchlights on both parties, Commander Fortier took hold of the microphone connected to the boat's Public Announcement System and addressed all three individuals.
"The three of you, freeze! This is the Crescent Parish Police Department. Lower your weapons and raise your hands above your head."
Neil's eyes widened in panic as he realized they were being pursued by the police. "Oh no, it's the cops!"
Theo, on the other hand, remained composed and quickly assessed the situation, taking in the voice from the patrol boat. "Three?" he repeated to himself in a low tone, questioning the words he had heard.
Looking up to where the second light was shining, he saw Noir standing on the railing of the second story with his axe in hand.
A kid? What's a kid doing here? Did we come to the wrong location? Unless…
"Aaah, I get it," Theo remarked.
A realization dawned on him based on what the Marketeer had said before he left. Without a second thought, Theo dropped his lantern in the mud and swung the shotgun on his back into his hands, firing a slug round that just barely grazed Noir's hair.
Noir had never seen anything attack so fast in his life, especially from that far away and without so much as a tell. Even the beasts he fought had some sort of muscle contraction before propelling parts of themselves forward. But this? This was instant.
What was that? How did he attack me from that far without even moving? Noir thought to himself, keeping his eyes locked on Theo.
"Well, would you look at that, Neil? He didn't even flinch. Boy, you've got more grit than most men I know. Either that or you're just too slow in the head to know any better."
Taking the boat's microphone in hand once again, Commander Fortier began barking orders. "I repeat, this is the Crescent Parish Police Department. Cease fire and lower your weapons, or we will be forced to take lethal action."
Unyielding to his command, Neil turned towards the patrol boat. Pulling a revolver from his holster, he aimed it at those aboard and began firing off rounds.
"Good job, Neil. You hold them off while I grab our mark," Theo instructed, loading another shell into his shotgun as he separated from Neil and ascended a ladder that led to the lowest deck of the boat.
"Officer Braun, lay down suppressive fire," ordered Fortier.
"Yes, sir!"
Unzipping a duffel bag, Officer Braun pulled out a long-range bolt-action rifle. Propping his gun on the front end of the boat, he steadied his aim.
"Want me to put him down, Commander?"
"No. I'd hate to waste a good body bag on one of these so-called Dread Hunters. Just get him to take cover and stop firing."
"Got it," Braun replied as he loaded a stripper clip into the top of his gun and began releasing rounds at an astonishing rate.
Each round fired either zipped by Neil's head or landed near his feet. A total of seven shots were fired before Officer Braun had to load in another clip. During that ceasefire, Neil took the chance to take cover behind a tree.
The boat dug up ground as it made landfall and the squad sprang forth, surrounding Neil as they all aimed their guns at his hiding spot.
"We have you surrounded. Come out," ordered Commander Fortier.
After a few seconds had passed, Commander Fortier slowly approached the tree, the flashlight clipped to his chest and the searchlights lighting his way. Making his way around the tree, he remained calm and ready to act, but as he got to the other side, to his surprise, no one was there.
"He made a run for it! Officer Braun, you've got the most accuracy and range in terms of firearms. Take another officer with you for backup and see if you can track him down."
"Commander, I don't think that's a good idea considering where we are," Braun replied.
"You're a big man, Braun. Don't tell me you're afraid of some bugs and plant life. If anything dangerous is waiting out there, it would get him before it got you. Now go after him and either bring him back or confirm his death."
"Yes, sir," Braun complied, grabbing the arm of another officer to take along.
MEANWHILE, HIDDEN ON THE SECOND FLOOR, NOIR MEDITATED ON THE EVENTS unfolding, his thoughts alternating between the intruding Dread Hunters and the police squad.
Who are all these people? he thought to himself. Where did they come from?
As Theo crept around the lowest deck, he discovered a flight of stairs that led to the second floor. While searching, he found himself in a ballroom, where chairs and tables were scattered across the room as if it were hit by a tornado. Broken glass and silverware covered the floor alongside deflated balloons and confetti.
Sensing that Noir was somewhere watching him, Theo began speaking aloud, "The Marketeer told my brother and I that there was some sort of demon that lived all the way out here. I didn't believe him, but I took the job anyway. So you can imagine my surprise when all we found was some kid on a boat. Yeah, surprised. That is, until I remembered something he told me before we shoved off. He said you demons possess people, killing them from the inside and taking their bodies for your own. I'm not the superstitious type, but hey, who am I to pass up easy money? So, why don't you quit the child act and come on out? Make this easy for the both of us. Because no matter what you are, you're coming with us."
As Noir snuck around, moving from shadow to shadow, he kept his presence hidden. In all his time in Mille Dan Swamp, he'd never seen another human, let alone had to fight one—so for the time, he chose to observe. After all, the roar from Theo's shotgun was still ringing in his ears; it was unlike anything he'd ever heard.
Tiny squeaks broke the eerie silence, causing Theo to turn and shoot in Noir's direction. But by the time he looked, nothing was there but an oversized swamp rat he'd just blown to pieces.