Awakening - The Last Science #1

Interlude II - Selling One's Soul - VIII

  "You're still doubting?" Jackson asked.

  "I just..." Brian hesitated. To send the golems out at the greycloaks was one thing, but to kill a man in cold blood? An awakened man who had tried to burn down a beloved diner and hurt a good friend, perhaps, but still it did not sit well with Brian.

  "May I show you something?" Jackson said, extending his arm again.

  "Not more, oh God," Brian groaned. He couldn't stomach another scene like that in the RV, or the sight of the man in the cloak burning from Jackson's golems.

  Jackson shook his head. "I promise you, nothing like that. No bodies, not even any injuries."

  Brian frowned, but reluctantly took Jackson's offered grasp once again. The whirlwind started up, and Brian was beginning to get used to it. By Jackson's explanation, they weren't actually moving any faster—Jackson was moving at a brisk walk, but time itself was accommodating his swift passage. Brian wasn't sure what that meant, precisely, but Jackson assured him that time travel and its ilk were still quite impossible. He didn't have to worry about alternate timelines or someone travelling back to kill his grandfather.

  They wound up in a treeline, on the edge of a wide field. Beyond the field was the park where Brian had taken many a walk with Natalie. He'd often imagined himself walking a dog around the park, but Natalie had been adamant against getting a pet dog or cat. She wasn't big on animals. Brian wasn't totally attached to the dog they'd looked at in the shelter in Tacoma, but he had been a little disappointed when Natalie had voiced her disapproval. Still, he was happy enough with just the two of them that it hadn't bothered him much.

  There was something going on at the park. Usually it was only a couple people wandering the flowerbeds or spending a pleasant afternoon on the benches reading away the sunshine, but Brian saw a large procession, dressed almost entirely in black.

  He saw the Wilsons, gaunt-faced and dreading every interaction from well-wishers that didn't understand their pain at all. He saw the mayor, using the event as an excuse to rub up with the more powerful members of the town. There was Rachel, the apparent leader of the entire group he'd slowly grown to hate over the last couple weeks.

  A car pulled up, and there she was.

  His vision blurred as he watched his daughter comforting the Wilsons. She looked so beautiful in that dress—far nicer than anything he could have ever given her. She was strong and healthy, angry and grief-stricken. Brian wished she could never have to feel those emotions again.

  He turned back to Jackson, who waited patiently in the shadows of the forest. His somber eyes were full of empathy. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. They were in complete agreement.

  Jackson offered his arm once more, and Brian was whisked back through the woods to the site of the abandoned RV park. There, wandering through without a care in the world, was Seth Merrill. As they watched, he summoned up a tiny ball of fire and started tossing it between his hands casually.

  Jackson couldn't do anything to him. It would break the rules. Only Brian could carry out this crusade. Brian, who was a powerless man in a world of gods and demons, would be the one to protect the world against those demented souls that thought they could make a deal with forces beyond their reckoning.

  God, forgive me. Protect my daughter while I do this for you, and for the world you created.

  Jenny's death was a tragedy. They had to ensure it could never happen again.

  Brian gripped the golem rod tight and let the monsters spring forth from his mind.

  The screams of Seth Merrill continued to echo in his ears as he walked away, disgusted with himself and the whole world around him.