"Better get a move on, D," the symbiote croaked. "That storm's moving in fast."
Stopping his cyborg mount the Hunter scanned the sloping hillside ahead of him. The rain had persisted for three days, finally letting up early this morning. D had made good time to the Miller's Crossing despite the inclimate weather only to find that the bridge had been washed away the day before.
A handful of men had been there, salvaging what materials they could from the wreckage of the bridge. They had suggested he try heading North to the nearest ford, some thirty miles away.
D knew the lands to the North would yield him no prospects as he had slain the ruling Noble in that sector eight years ago. As it was, he would have to back track South again once he crossed the swollen river.
The road he traveled had become treacherous, muddy and rutted as it wound up through the hills running parallel to the river. Several areas had begun to crumble and collapse, sliding down into the raging waters.
Despite this D had managed to keep his pace, deftly maneuvering his horse without incident. As the afternoon wore on a light sprinkling of rain started up, ushered by the looming black clouds rolling in from the East. Just as he began to descend the apex of the hills, he paused.
Above the roar of the rapids he heard a cry for help, hoarse and scattered by the wind.
D put his spurs to his mount, urging it forward. He rounded a heavily rutted bend and came upon a section of the road completely buried under a pile of mud and roots. He stopped a few yards away, studying the perilous path.
A filthy, mousey head popped up over the top of the mudslide, soon followed by a wildly waving arm.
"Here!" called the young man. "Please help!"
D dismounted, scaling the mound of mud effortlessly and crossing to the far side of the road. There he saw a wooden wagon, its rear wheels hanging precariously over the edge of the road. The young man was holding the front of the cart, his grip keeping it from sliding down into the river below. He was covered in mud from head to foot.
"Damn horse got spooked and ran off," he grunted. "Broke its harness and nearly threw us and the cart into the river when the road came down in front of us."
D jumped down next to him and placed one hand underneath the driver's bench. "Stand back," he said.
The boy released the cart, stumbling, as the Hunter wrenched it back on to the road in one motion.
He stood there for a moment gawking at the man in black. "That was incredible, thank you!"
"Where is your horse?"
The youth motioned down the road behind him. "The stupid beast ran that way. But my Pa already went running after her. I'm just grateful that you came along when you did. I didn't know how much longer I could hold on!"
The boy leaned in to the bed of the cart and retrieved a fist sized sack. Brushing off the dirt he offered it to the Hunter. "Here, take this. It ain't much, just a bag of corn. We were just coming back from-"
Just then a hunched, equally muddy man astride a dappled grey horse appeared ahead of them on the road. On seeing him the boy beamed, hollering and waving. The man soon joined them, his shoulders straightening as he dismounted.
"Glad to see you're okay," he said, clapping his son on the shoulder. "Had to chase Winnie damn near half way to Ransylva." He looked up at the Hunter, studying the pale face beneath the wide brimmed hat. His brow furrowed. "You helped my boy?"
"That's right."
The boy hefted the sack in his hand, saying "I was going to give him this Pa. Unless you-"
"That won't be necessary," D said. "How far is it to the ford from here?"
"About another ten miles," replied the man. "But there's a cargo ferry just down the hill if you're looking to cross sooner."
"Thank you." With that, D climbed back over the debris and mounted his horse. With only a few feet for a running start he leapt the obstruction in a single bound, landing beside the men before taking off down the hill.
"Wow!" the boy cried incredulously.
His father frowned. "Damn dhampirs," he muttered to himself, shivering. He turned and grabbed two shovels out of the wagon, handing one to his son. "Let's clear the road. That storm's going to break any minute."
As if to punctuate his point a low roll of thunder pealed in the distance.
D pressed on down the hill at a neat clip. The road began to level out as he went, bending closer to the river. About half a mile further he saw a crowd of people milling around the shore on a makeshift dock, loading wagons and cargo on to a ferry platform. He slowed, pulling off the road towards the dock.
Several people turned to look as he approached, studying his black raiment and curved longsword. A discontented murmur arose and a few began to point and back away.
The terror of the Nobility was still fresh in this sector with the ruling despot so recently exterminated. The nervous hum of their whispering and stares culminated when two large, well muscled men stepped forward, blocking D's path.
They were identical in appearance, both sporting close cropped blond hair and hard green eyes. They had on the same work clothes: thick leather gloves, knee high rubber boots and slick, hooded black coats.
And they both had laser rifles resting against their right shoulders.
"What business you got here, dhampir?" one of the men asked, placing his index finger on the trigger of his rifle.
"I seek passage on the ferry."
"Uh huh," said the other man. "And what is it you're going to be doing in our town?"
"I am a Hunter, passing through on my way to Eastwick."
"Hm," the first man spat, frowning. "I think you'll find that's about twenty miles back the way you came."
The Hunter remained silent.
The sky darkened, nearly blotting out the sun as heavy black clouds shifted restlessly overhead. A flash of lightning split the sky immediately followed by the deep, reverberating boom of thunder. Rain began to pour down, drenching the valley.
Both men shared a look as the rain streamed down their faces. Simultaneously, they leveled their rifles on the Hunter.
"Get lost," said the second man. "We don't want your kind here."
A ragged cry of vehement agreement rang out from the gathered throng.
The rider in black tugged on his reigns and started to steer his mount away.
"Hold it," called a voice from the ferry, half swallowed by the sound of the rain.
D stopped, the familiar tone holding him in place. His eyes raced to the cloaked figure stepping down from the rider's seat of a bull wagon. They made their way through the crowd, stopping just to the left of his horse's flank.
"I can vouch for him," she announced, lowering her hood, raven hair spilling over her shoulders.
The blond men lowered their guns, glowering at her. "You know this dhampir, Doris?"
"That I do." She smiled, those dark eyes lighting warmly. "Good to see you, D."