A Deserted Road,

Along Hanford.

Same Day.

Ukaid smiled to himself as he ambled with confidence toward Hanford. The treelines that had begun to give way to the generous views of the buildings was what gave him a reason to smile now. He was on his way to set about a very important mission – obtaining some new recruits to work in the Fresno Copper mine – a mine which was located to the north of the old town. He patted the side of the briefcase just to be sure he had the catalogue of vital documents he was going to use and distribute. He couldn’t afford to lose any of them. He dusted himself, hoping he hadn’t been tainted by dusty particles, no thanks to the untarred road he was plying.

To while away the time since he still had a lot of it remaining to take care of other things, he dipped his hand into the side of the briefcase and withdrew it, pulling along some of the files, just for his perusal.

“Now let’s see…what do we have here?” Ukaid said.

He had been constantly staring behind himself; just to be sure he wasn’t followed. It made it difficult to take a quick peek at the documents which was something he wanted to do all day. Restricting and cautioning himself, he was going to wait until he was certain that he was within visual sight of the town before he convinced himself that he could snoop into the contents. He pulled some of the papers out of his folder. Wanting to go over its contents, he found himself restless. He knew they contained the cash flow of the mine business as well as some contracts for the new recruits. Thorian had instructed him to go ahead to secure the services of the new workers just so they could boost the productivity of Fresno Mine. He wouldn’t want to let his boss down. Ergo, the earlier the better for him.

He wouldn’t lie, the numbers appeared to confuse him the more. His face went up in a scowl.

“Aww…I hate all these numbers…” Ukaid rambled, as he sorted through the papers, trying to make sense of them. Thorian had decided to let Hans get some rest since he had been running errands all week. It was the right call for the youngest Himura. He needed to take some time off to regain his depleted strength. As Ukaid wandered into town, Hans came to mind with his dependability and his assurance recently.

*****

The Himura Mansion,

Morning.

On this kind of morning, Hans would have been awake. But unusually, he was still fast asleep. He was the only one who seemed to be asleep at this time of the day. The others were awake and active. As usual, they all had each others parts to play. Hemphia was already managing some of the letters that were addressed to the Himuras. They were mostly business-related. As she read, she noted down some important items from the missives. It would make it easier for her to convey the information to Thorian much later. The little information that had been sent to him so far, Thorian decided to work on them to make some needed plans for their next businesses. Malcolm and Artemus did not move an inch. They remained in place at the front entrance door, guarding it with every ounce of vigilance and soberness. Vellesca was in the garden with her large blade Companion, swinging it here and there to hone her skills so that the next time she may do battle, she wouldn’t be the one to downplay the brethren. There was a lot going in the maiden vampire’s mind. She couldn’t seem to blot out the image where she had been bested. For her to improve she had to keep practising – she had to be at her best to stave off such an untoward circumstance again. Heck, she needed to rediscover her fighting spirit. One which she was certain had been lost at the fight with the Lovecrafts. Tek, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found. It was usual – he was constantly on the move checking for any anomalies. He also monitored threats. Especially any imperilling circumstance that could be supernaturally-related. He had left the mansion even while everyone slept to tend to the latest task he had been bequeathed with. He was on a quest to unravel the mystery behind the deaths that had been piling up in recent times. No one knew who was responsible for the teeming death toll recorded among the Confederate and Union politicians. He would have preferred Hans to tag along, if he hadn’t been resting.

Hans, however, wasn’t enjoying his rest. While others thought he was sleeping peacefully, his sleep had been plagued with ceaseless dreams. Those he had of the past. It seemed he hadn’t always been a Himura by assembly. Unknown to many, he had been adopted some eleven years prior. At the current moment, he was having reminisces of the traumatising events that had snatched his childhood from him. This time around, it was mostly about the demise of his beloved parents. He recalled how he had been resting in his mother’s arms. He had been born as a Croft. It was the gruesome death of his parents that turned his life around forever – it was that epiphanic moment, albeit it wasn’t a desirable one.

In his dream, he recalled being seated in the sofa with both his parents. They seemed bunched up and united enough to play around. They were comfortable as well beside the fireplace. They watched as the fire cracked up, releasing new glows into the air. It was a perfect moment with embers illuminating the room while they chatted. The Crofts were an affluent bunch. They had a beautiful house – it was quite smaller than a mansion yet it was obvious that the occupants were wealthy. Hans had a lot of discussions with his parents but the one that seemed to linger in his mind was the heated argument they had about the dearth of his freedom. They didn’t give him much room to express himself nor mingle with others. He hated himself so much. But, he was repulsed by his parents’ act even more.

“Why must I be secluded? It leaves me in a bore…” a nine-year-old Hans recalled himself arguing.

Hans recalled his mother sighing. “You need to understand dear that you are not like the other children” she explained.

“You’ll need to learn how to control your lust for blood and hold back your strength around humans,” his father also added.

“They are fragile beings, our identities must always remain secret from them,” his mother continued.

“I know that…” Hans frustratingly replied. He didn’t know what else to say. And he didn’t want to appear so rude.

“You’re nearly there, son. When your powers are mature we can send you to school,” his father tried to convince him.

He sighed, resting his back against the chair. “But when will that be?” he enquired again.

“It’s just a critical time. Because at the moment they are awakening, you know,” his mother elaborated.

“So I can really go to Boston?” Hans asked.

“Yes, in due time…” replied Hans’s father abruptly.

“Sometimes you ask too many questions…” his father countered, just before he sighed.

Hans lowered his head, disappointedly.

“This is going to be one of the habits you’ll need to forget for the future.” His father chided him. “Asking too many questions could easily draw attention to yourself,” he explained.

“He’s maturing far faster than I could have imagined,” raised his mother, a bit alarmed.

His father was bothered as well. Even though he was supposed to be the man of the house, he couldn’t conceal his fears from his wife. “And such could prove troublesome in public, especially this young. He’s definitely inherited your curiosity my dear,” his father added.

Hans mind returned to the present as he sought to recall the names of his deceased parents. No matter how much he tried, it didn’t work. He could however grapple with the last fleeting images of his father’s face. He recalled another scene from his past. There was a knock at the door. And he saw as his father get to his feet to answer it. It seems he hated that he had to be the one who would get the door.

He grumbled loudly as he walked lazily towards it. “What now…?”

He knew his father was always a busy bee. And by the way he replied, he seemed he had been taken off work. His father opened the door only to see a large troop of Confederate Battalion standing outside the home armed to their teeth, their hands on their weapons, at the ready.

“What is this…?” he asked, conflicted.

He had hardly finished his statement before a torrent of bullets pummelled his body. The Confederate troop relentlessly emptied their magazines into the Crofts’ home.

“Purge the demons!” shouted the troop leader as he barked orders at his subordinates. The ceaseless gunfire ripped the whole house apart. Hans’s mother acted immediately to get herself and him to safety only to be caught in the line of fire herself. She fell just before she could cover enough distance carrying Hans tight in her arms. The last image he could recall of his mother was of her laying in a pool of her own blood. She died instantly as soon as the bullets peddled her body. Bullets flew here and there, wheezing past him like fireflies. The whole floor was drenched in blood. One of the bullets whistled past and caught him in his left ear, almost tearing it cleanly off. He could have died but his survival instincts kicked into overdrive, despite that he was young. He skipped behind the nearest couch to save his own life.

“Hans, run boy!” his father shouted with the last ounce of strength in him, urging his son to run for his life. Seeing he was still alive, the leader of the battalion came towards his father and scattered his skull with a rain of bullets. Shocked beyond comprehension, Hans snapped out of his nightmare.

He held his head in his hands as a severe headache hit his occiput. He groaned. He was drenched in his own sweat in the bed. He was quite shaken up by the effects of the dream. Hans dragged himself from the bed toward the mirror; he retrieved a towel from the table beside the bed and wiped off the sweat from his body. He stared intently into the mirror, at his own reflection. His pendant dangled pendulously against his chest. He noticed the writing that was etched on the piece. He groped it and gazed intently at the letterings:

The Seal of Samuel.

He knew it contained mystical powers. At that moment, he had a blurred flashback of the moment that his father handed the pendant over to him.

*****

Hanford Inn Bar,

Noon.

Same Day.

Ukaid had been seated in the Inn for a while. The sun was too hot in the sky. He wiped his hand on his face. He was conflicted about how he would go about the recruitment exercise as well as securing the needed capital for the task at hand.

No one seemed to have his attention at this time of the day. The bar was teeming with customers. He sat on one of the stools, dangling his feet against the side wood. He didn’t seem bothered about the kind of the people that patronised the place. Judging by the kind of people that came in, he could tell they were wealthy.

Despite being preoccupied with the orders of her customers, Felicity noticed there was a man seated at the end of the bar. He seemed frustrated. Croid traced her glance and caught it on the strange man. Feeling a little bit jealous, he questioned her. “And who’s your new crush?” he smiled, pretending that the attention given didn’t affect him in the slightest bit. The fact that he seemed to be wealthy too and domineering in every sense of the word wasn’t helping matters.

“That’s Ukaid Himura…” she was shocked Croid didn’t know who he was.

“Himura?” Croid repeated. He recalled the family name, the one Felicity spoke of who she promised that she would ask to secure a much needed job.

“Yes. He’s the one.” She turned to Croid. “Give me a moment.” Then she sashayed toward the large man discussed, leaving Croid speechless. Upon arriving, she smiled with bubbly eyes.

“Can I get you a drink Ukaid?” she asked politely. As soon as he saw her, his countenance changed. He returned a smile back at her. She seemed to be pretty enough to attract his attention. She leaned on the table, revealing too much of her chest assets. He cleared his throat as she stared at his face, seductively. Without thinking twice, Ukaid grabbed her left hand tenderly.

“My lady, it’s always a pleasure,” he said, bowing his head, just as he lowered his lips to her hand and kissed it softly.

She giggled as his lips touched her hand. Croid couldn’t hide his jealousy any longer. His cheeks were inflamed with fury, he only managed to keep his anger at bay.

“You look troubled,” opined Felicity.

“Argh…yes…” replied Ukaid. “I’m having a hard time sorting out these documents. I also need to find some useful workers for the Fresno Mines. It’s going to be a tough day. Sometimes I just wish I could have someone help me manage the whole thing” he continued, lamenting.

She was joyful for a moment. The timing was perfect, she thought. At least, Croid would be out of her hair once Ukaid could get him a job. She smiled once more.

“You’re looking for workers, you say?” Felicity asked, pretending to not have anyone in mind who she could offer him to ease his troubles.

“Yes, I’ve got some of these vacancy notices that could be placed on the boards. If you would be so pleased as to have them put on the walls by the evening then that would be helpful my dear,” pleaded Ukaid.

“Sure thing,” Felicity replied, smiling. It was exactly what he needed to hear. She paused for a second and stared toward Croid’s direction.

Then, Felicity turned towards Ukaid once more, gently touching his hands lightly. “If you need a handy man, I know one who is available – he’s Croid. And he is available,” she lowered her head to his ears and whispered into them. Then she slowly raised her head to the bar and pointed at Croid who was still watching both of them. He beamed in a pretentious way, and raised a cup to them both. Ukaid smiled back at him and raised a glass as toast to him. He continued with his work, arranging the barrels of wine.

“What can he do?” Ukaid asked, instinctively. He needed to know the kind of man he was going to bring into his own employ and extensively into the employ of the Himuras. She didn’t know how best to explain herself on who he was.