52. Jack
FIFTY-TWO
JACK
Seeing that his enemy was without a weapon, Elijah pushed the attack and managed to sink his blade hilt deep into Sloan’s left thigh. Even as she fell and screamed, Jack was already on the move.
He knew with Aareth out and Sloan down, it was up to him. Mage sword in hand, he vaulted over church pews. Elijah had his back toward him. All Jack could see was a hand holding a bloody knife raised over Sloan’s body.
Jack launched himself the last few feet. From the top of a pew, he flew through the air, colliding with Elijah hard enough to take both men to the floor.
A new emotion was forcing its way to the surface from deep within Jack’s being.
Until now, he had felt mostly numb, almost defeated at the loss of his father.
Now, as the only hope for their survival rested on his shoulders, as he collided with the man responsible for his father’s death, anger boiled inside.
Sorcerer and preacher rolled and tumbled over each other. Jack was young and lean, but the preacher was lanky and managed to twist his body to the side and land on top of Jack. Both sword and knife were shaken free on point of impact, but that didn’t seem to bother Elijah.
Fists rained down on Jack as he tried to shield his face. He twisted and did his best to roll, but Elijah was consumed with a wrath and determination Jack hadn’t seen before. Blood ran into Jack’s eyes from multiple cuts opened across his face.
Then the blows stopped and Elijah grabbed Jack around the throat with thin strong fingers, literally squeezing the life out of him. Jack gasped for air, trying to fight the grip on his throat.
“Shhhhhh… go back to the fold, little sheep. Your time in this world has come to an end. Embrace the darkness that waits for you now.”
Jack’s vision was blurring. Elijah’s face twisted into a wicked grin, saliva dripping down his lips. As Jack was giving in to the darkness that clawed at his vision in all directions, he heard a voice, a voice that belonged to his father.
Get up, Jack. This is not how you go. You still have a lot of good to do in this world. Get up, Jack. Get up, son.
Jack heard the voice as clear as day. He heard the voice of his dead father like he was right there next to him.
A father that had been murdered by the order of the man that was now ending his own life.
Anger swelled in his chest. Pain, not from his wounds, but at the loss of his only surviving parent drove him back to consciousness.
“Nooooooo!” Eyes flicking open, Jack screamed into Elijah’s face.
Elijah was taken aback for a brief second. He was so sure of victory, Jack’s sudden outburst was the last thing he expected.
Jack channeled what magic he had left into his hands. He clawed at the fingers around his throat. Getting a grip on one of Elijah’s middle fingers, he twisted it back past its intended range of motion. The bone snapped with a loud crack.
Elijah howled in pain. Seizing at his chance of escape, Jack turned his body and rolled over on top of the man responsible for taking his father’s life.
Jack was enraged. A force consumed him, the likes of which he had never felt.
Anger, pain, retribution, and vengeance all held him close as he hammered away at Elijah’s horror-filled face.
Jack wasn’t sure how many times he hit Elijah, but by the time he was done, Elijah was struggling to breathe through broken teeth and a twisted nose. Jack’s chest heaved in and out, taking in breath as fast as he could.
Elijah moaned in pain. Jack looked around the room in a daze.
“Kill him, Jack.” Aareth struggled to his feet, one arm dangling uselessly by his side. He made his way to Sloan’s still body. “Kill him for what he did to your father.”
Jack looked down at Elijah and slowly took the metal chain the preacher wore around his neck in his bloody hands. Jack gripped the whistle used to call the now deceased beast and twisted the chain tight.
“Kill him, Jack!”
Elijah struggled to fight off Jack’s grip. Jack pinned the man’s arms to his sides and sat on top of his chest. The steel chain twisted hard in his hands as Elijah’s heart rate slowed. The chain dug into the pale flesh around his Adam’s Apple.
Elijah’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. His heavy gasps for breath began to dull.
Jack twisted the chain so hard, it cut into the skin of his hand as well as the skin of Elijah’s neckline. Vengeance drove him; it told him to end Elijah’s life there and now, but his father’s voice was still too fresh in his mind.
He deserves to die. For what he did to the town of Burrow Den and for what he did to my dad. But is this what Dad would do? Jack’s mind was torn from what he desired to do and what he knew his father would want.
Hands trembling with frustration, Jack released the death hold on Elijah’s chain. The preacher came to with deep gulps as he coughed and choked in oxygen.
Jack stood up, still staring at Elijah.
“Jack, what are you doing? Kill him! He deserves to die!” Aareth yelled from Sloan’s side.
“Maybe,” Jack looked down at Elijah’s bloody face, “but it’s not what my father would have wanted. It’s not what he would have done.”
“Thank—thank you,” Elijah gasped, still lying on the wood floor.
“Don’t thank me. Thank the man you murdered. His memory is the only reason you’re still alive.”
Jack found himself disgusted with Elijah’s grateful expression and turned his back. Aareth was helping Sloan as the captain came to.
Jack’s eye caught motion in the doorway. Abigail walked toward him. Her face was pale, but she walked with purpose. In her right hand, she held an ancient powder-lock pistol. She held it pointed in Jack’s direction.
There was no time for words as the pistol shot rang out. Smoke slowly rose from the weapon in Abigail’s left hand as tears spilled down her gentle face. The expression Abigail wore was one of sheer remorse even as she walked into the room.
Jack only had a split second to understand what his eyes told him. There was no time to process what he saw, no time to duck or hide. There was only time for his jaw to drop. Even as he searched his chest, Jack felt like an idiot.
He had trusted Abigail and now she had repaid his kindness with death.
Jack looked down, expecting to find blood gushing from his torso.
Instead, he heard a gasp behind him. Jack turned to see Elijah looming feet behind him, knife in hand.
The shot had stopped him cold. Blood from the bullet wound leaked down his shirt.
“I had to.” Abigail’s voice finally broke the silence. “He was going to stab you in the back. I—I promised your father I’d take care of you.”
Elijah fell to his knees, and with a gurgle, landed face first onto the hard floor.
Jack stood dumbfounded. Abigail ran to his side.
She stared at her father’s limp form. Jack wanted to thank her.
He wanted to tell her that she had done the right thing.
He wanted to hold her, to kiss her, but the world was spinning around him.
Blood still dripped from the cuts on his face and a deep gash in his head.
Before Jack could say anything, the darkness came for him.