The Acolytes of Crane (Theodore Crane, #1)(107)

The next second was just a blur. Brusquely pushed aside from behind by an unknown force, I stumbled upon the wooden floor. My hands took-up slivers, and as I bounced across the planks, I turned my head quickly to fight back.

‘Lincoln!’ I cried.

The image of the three glinting prongs of steel stabbing Lincoln into his chest will forever be frozen in my mind. Lincoln never once looked at me—his eyes bulging, his mouth open as if screaming for dear life—I knew he was minutes away from death. When the evil Quasikeum pulled his barbarous weapon out of Lincoln’s chest, I was force-fed an idea of what I was fighting for—life.


The Dark King wasted no further time. Turning to me, as Lincoln’s body thudded onto the floor, he rasped, ‘So this is the Earthly chosen one that everyone speaks of? All that I see before me is a pathetic, frightened boy.’

Quasikeum obviously wanted to torment me one last time. He visibly relaxed and looked over to his right to a hooded man who had just emerged out of the shadows. ‘Kurod, you have done well with your projection. It is time for us to leave this hell.’

A third figure, swift and at ease, entered through the window on lifters. From the grace exhibited, I knew it must be Travis.

Three against one. It wasn’t looking good. A loud, bone-chilling gasp bubbled out of Lincoln as he held on to life.

Not even bothering to withdraw his sword, Travis leered at me as he took his place side by side with the Dark King. Kurod and Travis bookmarked their evil master as they straightened out stiffly and contemplated me with scorn.

I screamed, unable to peel my eyes from Lincoln’s slumped body. ‘You will never defeat us! I am Theodore, Messiah of Earth!’

‘Is that right? Your blade will not get its wish today, Theodore,’ Quasikeum spoke, as if pitying me. He studied closely his trident, then glared at me. ‘Believe me, you don’t want to know the truth.’

I didn’t say anything. I knew Quasikeum would answer soon enough.

He started walking toward the exit door, beckoning to Kurod to follow. He stood tall on the first step, in preparation for his flight.

He causally peered at me as he placed his foot atop the second step. ‘Your grandfather had the last piece of the puzzle. With his help, Odion will reign supreme.’

My mouth trembling furiously, I held myself back.

Kurod stood near the exit, his back turned to me, while Travis, his feet wide apart and firmly planted, faced me. It was obvious to me what Quasikeum had planned for me.

With trident in hand, the Dark King ordered, ‘Dispose Theodore!’

‘My pleasure, I will do away with the freak-boy easy,’ Travis said, as he looked at me, pulling his sword from the sheath on his back.

The Dark King and Kurod fled up the stairs to the top, where their ship was stationed.

Travis was flexed and ready. I was breathing deep. Our faces twitched from nerves, and we contemplated a battle with an uncertain ending. My eyes of burden locked with his eyes of tainted youth, and Travis dove into a sprint.

His decision was made, and his actions were rash. There were four yards between our bodies, and in that space and time, I thought, I am the leaf.

I powered up my Elon suit. Travis raged toward me, and my sword ignited. I rose up from the brink.

‘To Lincoln,’ I whispered, steady and calm. I extended the deadly sword back, timing each second perfectly of my final thrust against Travis.

And in one fatal swing of Wrath, my sword extinguished his life.

There was no Heaven for the devious. There was no dream-reel of a utopia, no soothing sense of solitude in the white glow of Sephera, only nothing—only Hell for him. My sword melted through his chest. When I withdrew Wrath, a cauterized hole remained.

Life escaped Travis, just like it abandoned my grandparents at his bidding, and that was when I knew he was dead. Dan’s plasma cannon blasted the doors open, and the saviors of my mission poured in to distract my brief remorse for Travis.

A red glow seeped into the hangar, and gave form to the carnage. I dropped to my knees and cupped the blood that left Lincoln’s body.

‘Hurry, somebody do something!’ I screamed to the others.

‘Ted, I don’t have much time. Find Tez, she will help you,’ Lincoln said, moaning from the pain, ‘Please protect Mariah for me. Go! Finish this. You cannot waste time on me. Time is a luxury. I know that now.’

His eyes weakened with every blink, and we all dove in to embrace him one last time. We laid him down on the log floor of the hangar, and comforted him with our tears.

‘Give him some room,’ Dan cried.

The last image I viewed as we peeled away from him was Mariah and Lincoln’s hands locked in an embrace. Lincoln looked toward me and said, ‘You wanted to know who visited me at Fun Haven that night? It was Zane. He told me that I would soon die, but my death would be the catalyst for change. You must leave now!’

Mariah kissed Lincoln and when their lips touched, a tear fell from my eye. Love and life were what we fought for that day, which was all that we longed to have. To feel—that was the dream. When I left his, my thirst for vengeance was infinite.

‘Where’s Liam?’ I asked, before we ran up the stairs. I could tell by the sadness in their eyes that our team was on the verge of losing that battle, because Liam was surely lost too. I looked back at Lincoln before I turned the corner and I said, ‘Thank you.’ The life passed on from him, and I turned the corner to run from my emotions.