There was no one else to call, no other reason to wait. So, as the setting sun cast a radiant orange glow across a graying sky, I left the barn and set out to find the girl.

The old Sacred River City train station was built back in the late 1800s, during the first few decades of the city’s youth. It had been a vital part of the town's growth, and to this day, still serves an important function for both commuting and commerce.

On the north side of the public station house were several acres of fenced-off property securing rows of track where freight cars, such as the one in my vision, were stored awaiting their long cross-country journeys. These, I assumed, were my targets.

When I arrived, a quick search of the perimeter easement roads yielded a decommissioned utility building sitting outside the west end. I crept inside the crumbling brick structure and posted up.

From inside the dilapidated doorway, I sat meditatively on the bare earth as a cool wind swept across my face from the east bringing with it the damp smell of a coming spring rain. My senses reached out into the Aether, surveying the yard and telling me all I needed to know.

I became acutely aware of my environment; The history of it, the pollution and the death, the thriving life and constant change. I sensed the ceaseless stream of energy that flowed along wrought iron tracks from distant places. Negasites, like traveling specters, floated here and there as hitchhikers having jumped the tracks, akin to their human vagabond counterparts.

I searched the old yard and found roughly a dozen men meandering about the property. I could smell the same evil that had permeated Chase on each of them. Their sense memories showed me their intentions and beliefs. These weren't really mechanics or maintenance workers. Not actually janitors or ticket counter clerks. They were Acolytes, all devotees of the Black Order. The enemy was here in numbers, and the last vestiges of my doubts vanished; the grounds were well guarded, the victims must still be here.

“They’re cloaked, I can't see the kids,” I said as I sat with my eyes closed.

“Step lightly,” Leo voiced to my right. “Watchers are at work here...”

Coming back to my physical senses, I stood and peered out of my hiding place. “Two guards drive along the inner perimeter at fifteen-minute intervals.” I recounted, stretching my wounded shoulder in preparation.

“There may be more you can't see,” Leo added. “They know you're coming, they will have prepared.”

I cricked my neck and fitted the bowler hat in place.

“Yup.”

Taking off at a sprint, I ran at the fence and vaulted the barbed wire, landing on the opposite side in a puff of dust. Once clear, I hurried to the nearest freight car, leaped on top of it, and extended my senses inside.

Thinking back to my encounter with the Trio at the junkyard and casino, though they had hidden themselves, I still recalled feeling slight variations in the Aether around them. It had been like the faintest whiff of an unpleasant odor, hard to place, but definitely there.

Hoping that sensation was the tell I needed, I reached within the storage container, looking for that same foulness that might indicate a Watcher’s cloak.

But there was nothing, just empty space.

I looked out over the train yard at the sea of freight car roofs before me. It was going to be a long night. Letting out a tired sigh, I jumped onto the next container and continued my search.

One after the next, I cleared the containers, finding only remnants of energy, or Negasites in each. After over a dozen cars, I finally came upon my first guard wandering the Isles.

Leo was right, they were expecting me. But apparently, they hadn't expected me to be off ground level.

I waited above the unsuspecting biker as he walked between the tracks, swigging from a bottle with his rifle slung over his shoulder. I followed along above him and dropped at his back, grabbing him around the neck and rendering him unconscious without making a sound. I quickly disassembled his weapon, throwing the pieces across the yard, then tied him down with strips of his own shirt before resuming my search.

After what felt like an eternity of moving over the tops of the containers, and dropping three more unfortunate Acolytes, something finally caught my attention.

Reaching down through the roof I felt the same empty space in the car. But the air was all wrong. It was heavy with a fowl Aether scent, like rotting flesh.

Suddenly something tugged at my chest, like an agonized sob lurching up into my throat. It was a feeling of sheer prolonged terror.

Fear and hope fought each other inside me as I jumped off the car, landing before its sliding door. I broke the lock with a single strike from the nightstick. and pulled the door open.

What I found inside was a living nightmare.

It was a cesspool of despair. Aetheric waste coated the walls along with hundreds of skittering Negasties. The smell of raw sewage spilled out of the car, nearly causing me to lose composure. But the people... The people inside were alive!

There were fewer than I anticipated, maybe several dozen. Some were children, others young adults.

I climbed inside and looked among the bedraggled and sickly group. There was a shuffling as they huddled against the metal walls, averting my eyes. Their fear was palpable. I even sensed a few of them praying to be spared from whatever new evil I brought.

Shocked, I held my palms out, “I’m not here to hurt you,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m here to get you home.”

I felt their disbelief. Most of them had been tormented for so long that they didn't believe they could go home. But some of them perked up. Some still had hope.

“I want my momma.” came a small voice from the corner to my right.

I turned and gazed upon a small curly-haired girl, no more than five years old, sitting huddled under a filthy rag.

It was Annabell.

My heart fluttered and the chaotic swirl of her mother's emotions raced through me again. I tried to rally myself and wall off her feelings from my own.

“Yeah kiddo,” I said, “I’ll get you back to your momma.”

Her tiny, dirt-smeared face dared to smile. But as she did, her gaze slipped past me and her elation turned to horror.

“Doubtful,” said a man at my back.

Before I could react, someone grabbed my ankles out from under me. I hit the floor with a thud and tasted blood on my lips before I was yanked out of the train car and thrown out onto the gravel.

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Dazed, I flipped to my back as someone grabbed me by my coat and lifted me, slamming me into the side of another train car.

It was Ryan.

A yellow Aetheric energy swirled over him, adding a tall and long rodent-like snout to his body. Aljashae’s beady eyes stared into mine as I struggled against him.

Behind him, Waylon stood at the open car full of kidnapped victims, lazily chewing a toothpick as he peered inside at Annabell.

“You don't have a momma anymore, baby girl,” he said with a wicked smile. “You're just a bag of pleasure meat.” he turned to face me again over Ryan's shoulder.

I saw the huddle of victims inside recoil in fear. Many, I sensed, were intimately familiar with Waylon’s sadistic nature. His disgusting grin rekindled my hate, and the rage grew in me so strongly it nearly drowned out the suffering in my midst.

“You,” Waylon said pointing finger at me, “Are the reason I lost a partner. I owe you for that.” He took out his toothpick and flicked it at me.

I flinched when he spoke the word partner.

“I’m right here mother fucker.” I said, my voice shaking.

“What, with your little stick? He laughed.

My nostrils flared and blood pounded in my ears.

“Exactly.”

I stopped struggling against Ryan’s grip and lifted my hands. Waylon frowned and looked down at my belt with its empty baton ring.

I clenched my fist, sending my will coursing through the talisman. The nightstick responded from where I had dropped it outside the freight car, poised to attack from behind as I had planned. It leaped up, catching Waylon by surprise as it slammed into his side and threw him down the aisle.

Ryan flinched and his grip slackened as he looked over his shoulder at his parnter. I took the opening, kneeing him in the jewels, and slamming my head into his nose. Stunned, he fell back.

The man may be possessed, but he was no fighter, and it showed.

A quick cross and an uppercut to his jaw, backed by the talisman’s strength, and he was down.

I turned back to the huddled crowd inside the car, “Let's go!” I shouted.

In a spurt of adrenaline, the victims jumped up and started piling out. I kept an eye on Ryan’s unconscious form until the last of the group climbed out.

Annabell came up the rear, struggling to get down. I picked her up and took off at a jog, leading the group in the opposite direction of the enemy.

But escape wasn't going to be easy. They had been half-starved, and some even tortured over the past several months. They were in no shape to make a run for it. So I slowed my pace, keeping the group together while encouraging the stumbling boys and girls to keep moving.

As we did, I tried to extend my senses out ahead of us, searching for incoming threats. but my focus was split in too many directions.

We passed a gap in the parked freight cars when an Acolyte jumped over the open tracks. The ambush caught me by surprise and as he tackled me to the ground, I dropped the girl.

So stupid! I should have seen it coming.

The shock of his attack wore off quickly though, and as he tried to mount me, I reached up and grabbed him by the throat. His eyes bulged as the tables turned and his efforts to overpower me failed. I stood, lifting him off the ground without effort, my fury boiling over. In a howl of anger, I threw the man bodily into a nearby freight car, denting the metal and crushing bone. His broken unconscious form slumped to the gravel where it lay perfectly still.

Breathing heavily, I turned to my herd of charges where they stood in wide-eyed awe. I looked around for Annabell, but couldn't find her.

“Where did the girl go?” I huffed.

Suddenly, someone in the back of the group let out an ear-piercing scream. The rest began to scatter as a creature barreled through them charging straight for me.

Ryan ran on all fours, his yellow ghostly tail whipping about as he bounded down the aisle

I braced myself for the impact when something cracked me over the head, knocking me back to the dirt. Dazed, I looked up and saw my baton lying next to me. I tried to stand but Ryan jumped me again, pinning me down with a strength ten times that of the Acolyte I had just defeated. The ghostly rat face of Aljashae leered at me over Ryan’s human one. I tried to summon the nightstick again, but Aljashae’s tail lashed out and wrapped around it, holding it fast.

“Well, this has been fun and all, but I think we’re done now,” yelled Waylon.

Looking up from under Ryan, I saw him standing atop the nearest freight car, Annabaell held in one hand like a rag doll.

Waylon jumped down from the top of the car, causing Annabell to scream as her body flailed in his hand.

“You‘re kind of attached to this one aren't you?” he asked, holding up the girl while she cried. “How about this... I’ll refund her buyer and keep her for the Order. I’m sure we could have hours of fun before she gives out,” he smirked sickeningly.

I struggled on the ground with Ryan, fighting to get his claw-like hands off me. “Let her go!” I yelled.

Waylon lifted the child to his face and sniffed her. She sobbed uncontrollably, begging for her mother over and over.

“Well,” he chuckled, “maybe we can squeeze an hour out of her.”

BANG!

Like a lightning strike, something hit Ryan in the side and he tumbled off me. I rolled away and jumped up, summoning the stick and igniting it in a flash.

Waylon reacted, pulling the girl to his chest and looking around widely as Ryan staggered to his feet. He pulled a hand from his side, his palm covered in blood.

“W-waylon?” he stammered.

BANG!

A spurt of blood shot out the back of his head and Ryan dropped dead. No sooner had he fallen than a yellow mist scurried out of his corps and disappeared under one of the train cars.

I whirled around to see many of the rescued victims had taken cover behind a man, standing several yards behind me.

It was my uncle.

Chuck stood guard over the terrified group as he spun a lever action rifle in his hands, racking it and chambering another round in one smooth motion, before bringing it to bear on Waylon.

“Stand clear!” he shouted.

I stepped back giving him a clean shot.

The possessed detective hissed, his pupils elongating like a cat and his teeth sharpening. He held the girl up like a shield and spun around, only to face off with the barrel of another gun.

Chief McKinney had snuck up the opposite end of the Aisle.

“Put her down fucker,” he said, his revolver trained on Waylon’s head.

Waylon crouched to jump onto the nearest train car but stopped as he saw Finnick standing on top with his trusty shotgun. He turned to the other side to flee, but found his way blocked by Sergeant Bullings, with a rifle at the ready.

“You aren't getting out of this alive,” McKinney said. “Girl. Down. Now.”

Waylon slowly turned his head to me, and the spectral face of Sakhr smirked.

“Well... Someone sure won’t.”

With impossible speed, he lunged. I jumped and struck out, hitting his side with the nightstick. He howled as the flames burned his flank, but still managed to juke to the side and pass me, running straight at Chuck.

Chuck’s rifle cracked off again as I pivoted to catch the monster, but it was too late. Waylon had broken the perimeter, cleared the top of another car, and vanished.

I was about to take off after him but stopped when I caught sight of my uncle. He was on the ground, bleeding badly.

My heart stopped and I ran to his side. His shirt was torn open and four deep claw marks shredded his chest.

“The g-girl,” He choked.

Mind-numbing fear washed over me. I fell to my knees and tore off his shredded shirt, pressing it to his wounds in a feeble attempt to slow the bleeding.

“Help... Someone help me!” I yelled out.

Chuck grabbed my lapel with a weak and shaky hand, “go... go get her” he wheezed.

I shook my head as I held him, his blood pouring over my gloves. My heart hammered frantically in my chest.

McKinney ran to my side. He looked between Chuck and I, and his face fell. “Oh shit...” He kneeled next to me, placing his hands on Chuck's chest.

“You need to go after him. We got this.”

Though I heard his words, I couldn't reply. I held my uncle and ignored the Chief's presence.

“... John?” McKinney said, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me.

I blinked and looked up in surprise.

McKinney shook his head. “God dammit, it is you...” he sighed. “Listened, I don't know how you do the things you do, but you are faster than us and that sicko still has the girl. You’ve got to go after him.”

Chuck nodded, trembling, “Go, boy. Save her.”

My vision blurred as the familiar sensation of panic rose again. I lifted my head and saw Leo standing several yards away along the train tracks, watching me patiently.

I held back a frightened sob. Slowly, I let go and stood up, leaving my uncle on the ground with the Chief.

Fighting back the overwhelming sensation of dread that threatened to bury me, I took off after Waylon, trying not to think of my dying uncle and all the things I left unsaid.