Dark Destiny (46 page)

Trailing behind the Master were two guardians, dressed in rags, and two more Souls in untied strait-jackets. They crawled forward, moving like drunken monkeys, the sleeves of the strait-jackets dragging on the dirt ground. The horde followed behind at a distance, curiosity and awe on their zombie-like faces.

The Master came to a stop beside a broken tombstone just a few feet from Jared and Makayla, who positioned herself behind the Shade, though she knew he would offer her no protection. The Master looked her over, eyes gleaming. “You did well, young one.” The Master waved Jared away. “Now leave us.”

The expression on the Master’s face sent shivers down to Jared’s very core. The Master’s eyes bulged, his smile small and twisted. He licked his lips and swallowed. “It is time,” he declared, “that I claimed my prize.”

Two ragged, Lesser Souls grabbed the Revenant, each one taking an arm. She tried to break free but it was no use.

Like a coward, Jared dropped his gaze, not wanting to see what came next.

Before he could take a step, a haze rippled through the cemetery and the Reaper
blinked
out of thin air, his layers of robes billowing in all directions. His gloved fist shot out, smashing into Jared’s face. A thunderclap from the impact rang out as a shockwave sent all the Souls standing around flying in every direction.

Except the Master, who had not moved even a millimeter. He watched with a malevolently gleeful grin.

The impact sent Jared hurtling back along the ground into a gravestone, creating a small ditch in the process. The Revenant, freed by the Lesser Souls from the thunderclap, managed to scramble to her feet and tucked herself behind a stone cross. She peeked from her shelter, eyes darting between the crazed expression of the Master and Sebastian.

Shakily, Jared climbed to his feet, his glare burning holes into the Reaper. The Reaper
blinked
forward, ramming his shoulder into Jared’s chest, sending him hurling through the air, crashing into a mausoleum wall. It gave way and crumbled like stale bread.

Jared grunted and spat out black liquid. Taking hold of the bottom piece of the broken wall, he dragged himself to his feet. The pulsating waves of his anger superheated the air. “It’s about time you came.”

Somehow, the Reaper felt the heat of his anger through the robes. Good, he thought.

“Look at you!” the Reaper spat. “A Shade, Jared? Kidnapping Sara, bringing her here to have her Soul ripped out? How much farther can you fall?”

The Reaper shook his head in disgust and then
blinked
to Sara, still huddled behind the big cross. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“Sebastian, I need to tell you something,” Sara whispered, enunciating every syllable clearly. Her tone was almost pained.

“Somewhere safe first,” he said, reaching to pull her up. “We’re blinking out of here.”

When his hand touched hers, a tremor pulsed into him, and then a series of scenes, as if from a forgotten movie or a lost dream, flooded his mind.

Flash: Sebastian found himself in a crowded school hallway, one he didn’t recognize. He looked at the faces and didn’t recognize any. All the students seemed to focus on one thing. He heard some mocking and the name, “Makayla,” spoken in hushed tones. And a girl Sebastian had never seen before. Petite. Light brown hair. Who was this?

The girl ignored the crowd and stepped toward a boy dressed in a black leather jacket. “Are you okay?” she asked.

The boy’s tone was filled with anger. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did,” she said. “They’re morons.”

The boy went to his soaked, dripping backpack and picked it up from the floor. He shook his head with disgust. “Maybe I can salvage some of it,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. He opened his bag and took out what was left of a Halloween themed snow globe.

“You brought a Halloween snow globe to school?”

Flash: The school hallway receded, giving the visual that it was being sucked and pulled away from them. Then Sebastian found himself sitting in a canoe with the girl and the boy from the school. They took no notice of him, like he didn’t exist. The lake around them was clear down to the mud. There were mountains in the distance.

“A fish! Look! It’s a fish!” the girl yelled out, excitement in her voice.

“Lakes have those, you know.” The boy winked at her.

Something stirred within Sebastian. Something was familiar about these two. Then he remembered the news story. Hope’s vigil at the school. Their pictures on the television. It was the missing couple.

“Thank you for bringing me out here,” the girl said.

Carefully, the boy took a glass jar out of his bag. “I thought it was the perfect place.”

The girl tilted her head. “For something other than snow globes?”

Sebastian’s eyes went wide as the boy said, with more passion than he’d heard anyone speak, “I prayed you weren’t an angel. Or a vision. I wanted you to be real.”

Flash: Under water. So cold. Sunlight rippled from above. Sebastian panicked, thrashed around in the water for a moment, but then he knew it wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening to him. Not far from him the boy and the girl floated, their hair flowing around them calmly as they drifted away from each other. The girl’s hand shot out and grabbed the boy’s hand, pulling him close to her. She smiled. Sebastian no longer felt the cold. His heart was filled with a warmth he’d never experienced before. He watched them sink, as a single being, to the bottom of the lake.

Flash: Sebastian’s bedroom. Sara on his bed, just coming to, just brought out of the Light. He remembered this, but something was different. The perspective was wrong. He felt her confusion now. Sara blinked her eyes a couple of times, seeing a glass of water come in front of her. He felt her fear.

“Ah!” she yelped, knocking the water out of his hand.

The glass fell onto the floor, shattering, all of the water spreading out into a messy pool.

Flash: Sebastian found himself standing on the top of a building, the stench of Purgatorium stronger in his nose than it should have been. Sara stood beside him, and Jared across from her. Her hand reached forward, yanking a bag out of Jared’s hand. She flipped the top half open and peered inside.

“The snow globe?” she asked, and Sebastian felt her confusion. “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.”

“It’s your memories,” Jared answered softly. “Your
true
memories. Just concentrate on its center and let your mind do the rest.”

Flash: Sebastian was back in the canoe, only the scenery was different, not exactly the same as before. It was more vivid now. The colors were slightly sharper, the temperature was slightly warmer.

“I—I know who I am,” Sara said.

“Who?” the boy asked.

“Say it,” he begged, his eyes misting. “What is your name . . . ?”

Her eyes rose to his. “Makayla,” she whispered.

“My angel,” he breathed, a smile spreading across his face. He rose to his knees and crawled forward to the center of the canoe. She did the same, and their bodies came together. His arms tightened across her back as their lips locked.

Sebastian watched the scene, stunned, feeling what she felt, the trembling to be held by someone she cared so deeply for, as if they were one being, two halves of the same beating heart.

The boy’s voice rang out loud inside Sebastian’s head: “When the Horseman ripped down the Soul, it was not the one he intended it to be.”

He paused and whispered, “It was you, Makayla.”

It was you, Makayla . . . Makayla
. The name echoed through Sebastian’s head.

Flash: Wind swirled all around them as they sat in the canoe, their knees touching. “What about Sara?” Makayla shouted over the howling wind. “Where is she?”

Heavy rain thundered around them. The boy seemed half a mile away.

“She’s still alive!” the boy yelled back, his voice hard to hear in the loud wind. “That’s why you were ripped down and not her! She wasn’t even up there!”

Sebastian staggered backwards, dropping her hand. His mouth hung open, his wide eyes searched his surroundings, looking for a foothold in reality. He stumbled and fell to one knee. What had he done?

She—she wasn’t Sara.

Snap out of it!
the Elder commanded.
This is why they revealed her identity to her. So she’d show you and throw you off your game. Concentrate on the now. It’s not Sara—get over it! And do it fast.

“Seeebaassstiiian,” Jared called.

Sebastian shook his head. He knew the Elder was right. Makayla. He forced himself to think her name. He’d made her look like Sara. He’d done that. Ripped this poor girl’s Soul from the Light. Now, she was inches away from a possible death—a permanent death—at the hands of a crazed monster.

Something stirred. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jared slowly walk into the horde and thrust his hand into some poor zombie’s chest. It was a precise strike, directly where its heart should have been. Tearing his hand out, Jared held the Soul in his palm. The zombie slumped to the ground and withered to a lifeless husk.

“I’ve been waiting to have this talk for a while,” said Jared. He tossed the Soul from one hand to the other, as if it were a basketball. Then, thrusting the Soul in Sebastian’s direction, Jared’s fingers dug into it. Lightning crackled around it. Mist leaked out. The cracking sound pierced Sebastian’s ears. Then a huge burst of energy catapulted toward Sebastian.

Block that now,
the Elder screamed in his head.

Heart pounding hard in his chest, adrenaline pumping everywhere else, Sebastian leaped in front of Sara, or Makayla, and ripped his scythe out of the ethereal. He held it in front of him, bracing himself. The onslaught of power came, striking his scythe head on.

It was bright.

Blinding.

Sebastian had to turn his face away. It felt like he was blocking a high pressured water hose. Or a broken fire hydrant the size of a house. His scythe vibrated in his gloved hands, making it hard to hold. He clamped his fingers down tight, as there was no telling what would happen if he lost his scythe.

The blade cut the blast in half, sending it past Sebastian in two directions, barreling behind him. His feet slid back a couple of inches almost into Sara, or Makayla, who crouched behind him.

Without warning, the pressure ceased.

His gaze snapped back to Jared inching his way forward. The white leaf tattoos on his muscular arms flowed around his body, up his arms and around his torso. They shone outward, like super powered lighthouses, flashing at Sebastian and the rest of the Souls.

“What was that?” Sebastian asked the Elder quietly.

A ‘spirit crack’. Look . . .

Two zombies knelt, cowering on both sides of Jared. He plunged his hands outwards, into their chests. They gasped in abject horror as he ripped out their souls.

One Soul in each hand.

Two shriveled husks disintegrated into the atmosphere.

“Why are you doing this?” Sebastian called out to him, the anger in his voice heard by all.

“Why?” Jared yelled. “You
left
me here!”

Sebastian couldn’t let Sa—er, Makayla—accidently get torn to shreds by one of those blasts. He moved away, hoping to draw Jared’s fire. The plan worked. Jared tracked Sebastian’s movements and released the Soul’s energy toward him while screaming, “It’s been three damn days! Do you have any idea of what I’ve been through!”

The Reaper’s raised scythe absorbed the assault. Even with the power of Death running though his veins, he had difficulty holding onto his scythe. This time, still holding and blocking the attack, he was flung black fifteen feet, splitting a dead tree in half.

The power ceased.

His breaths came out ragged. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Makayla hiding behind a large tombstone. The leader of the horde seemed content to watch Jared fight him. Which meant that Makayla was safe for the time being.

The Reaper could
blink
and cut Jared down, but that wasn’t really what he wanted. Somehow, he needed to stop this madness.

“You had my dream girl,” Jared screamed. He clamped his fingers into the other Soul, cracking into it. “Robbed me of my opportunity of the Light. A chance to see my mom!”

Another blast came on him in the blink of an eye.

Again he raised his scythe. The energy struck the blade. Glowing white hot, blinding light split as it streamed behind him. Front leg bent forward, the other straight behind, he braced himself. An ache formed in his arms. As the tail end of the blast came, it flung the Reaper back into a burial vault. Its stone walls shattered as the Reaper crashed clean through. Still, he managed to land on his feet. He tried to catch his breath before another attack came.

“I’m doing what I have to do to survive here.” Jared clenched his filth covered fists. “I’m trying to get myself out of this.”

“That’ll be all,” Morose ordered. “I want him to witness this.”