CHAPTER THIRTY

When DarkFlood put an end to the criminal gangs of the city a power vacuum was left that he neglected to account for. Too distracted with Dr. Fitzsimons chasing him down, DarkFlood never saw what was coming next.

3 DAYS AGO

Jack and Dr. Randolph sat in a booth along with Jack's backpack by the window of a diner off Route 66. Waiting out the cops, feds, and military as they finished raiding their empty apartment in the city.

"How're your powers out here?"

"It's getting harder to get back each time," Jack went on, cutting his pancakes with his fork, "Must be something about long distance jumps."

"It's a shame all this had to happen. I still ha-"

"It's a shame you couldn't still be sleeping with my wife behind my back?"

Dr. Randolph could plead his case now, he could.

But he ignored it and continued, "I still had a final phase of testing for all your developing powers."

"Like what?" Jack conceded, slowly trying to allow Dr. Randolph back into his good graces. Christ, he was the only lousy friend he had. Besides, back when Jack was Philip Dresden, he was separated with his wife for years. It was not until the day he regained his sight did they come back together, but he left for Afghanistan that very day and was never heard from again. So, who was truly in the right?

"Like your teleportation, if you hold your breath can you jump into water or even space?"

"Remarkable, Doc." Jack was flabbergasted by Randolph's gall, "Do you want to be me?"

Dr. Randolph looked up from his egg whites and whole grain toast, "I'm just fascinated by your condition."

Jack finished his pancakes and ate his bacon.

"That's all."

* * *

Jack teleported back on top of the roof across the street and made sure the coast was clear before going inside. Once in, he grabbed what he needed when he saw Jason's hat on the bedpost, he must have forgotten it in all the haste and confusion. A soldier popped out of the closet and the lights and alarms went off. The trooper tackled DarkFlood with an assault rifle harnessed around his shoulders, now wedged in between them. A net fell from the ceiling and landed over both of them.

Jack teleported out, accidentally taking the soldier with him. They landed on the mats in Sensei's old dojo next door. Free from the net, Jack sprang up and beat the living shit out of the soldier. Using a combination of short teleportations and Flood technique, Jack finished him with a haymaker. The soldier was rocked off his feet and out of consciousness. Jack caught his breath.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

He laughed at the fact that instinct and impulse brought him here. One of the safest places in his world, up there with his grandfather's old cabin by the lake. Sensei's dojo held a special place in his heart. That's when he realized that day of the fire, when he discovered what Sensei left behind for them. Jack brushed his vest off as his cape flapped behind him, shaking itself clean, and he walked over to the giant chest. He opened it and took the ancient scrolls out. A beeping sounded off from behind. The soldier had a tracker on. They were coming. Jack teleported away.

Jack landed outside, on the city block, after a quick twitch back across the country, handing the Doctor the scrolls and coming back. After such a far jump he would not be able to teleport for a little while. Why didn't he stay with Randolph and avoid risking the danger of going back? Jack had to find Sarah. He watches the cops move in. They were sheep. This was getting a little disappointing for Jack. With Fitzsimons out of commission for the time being, it looked like Jack had nothing to be afraid of. The spotlights returned, only this time they caught DarkFlood on the rooftop.

Instead of teleporting away Jack must wait before he was fully recharged and so he utilized some of his other abilities for a change. He leapt across each building and could feel the muscles in his legs stretching and strengthening. In fact, his whole body was transforming, adapting, evolving, not just his legs. Randolph's theories were turning out to be right. Jack's abilities grew the more he used them. Jack summoned all his might in the last leap off the building's rooftop.

He shot his hands out and slung his cloak out over both of his arms. The gesture acted as a switch and the cloak turned into stretched cloth over a rigid glider-like exoskeleton. The helicopters carrying the spotlights chased after him, but just as they came into firing range, DarkFlood turned around, abandoning his glide, and flipped them off before teleporting off; not far. Just far enough to get him away, he was still drained. No Jack picked a place he was familiar with. He went to the top of the Empire State Building.

DarkFlood stood just below the massive antenna at the top of the most infamous skyscraper in the world. Hopefully, he would be safe in plain sight for awhile. He desperately needed to conserve his energy to teleport back across the country to Randolph and the scrolls. Jack felt something emerging from his essence. He felt this sort of excitement like he had never felt before. He was stuck inside his head and for all he knew it felt good. He was in touch with the collective soul of the city.

The antenna was pulling every cry for help in the city to DarkFlood's mind. He could hear them all. He could see the tear of faith and hope within the city, the heartache, the darkness brewing. He could feel the fear out on the streets of the city. A city ripe with deviance and crime. No longer did the drug dealers and gangsters rule the underworld. The criminal fraternity was dead, and in their absence a cancerous kind of evil took over.

Murderers and rapists who preyed on women and children, bank robbers that kill their own just to get a better share of the profit, and sociopaths set out to watch the city burn itself down all infested the alleyways and street corners. When the cops tried to intervene, they were either killed or run out.

The innocent were paying the price. Fitzsimons used this recent rise in crime to cover up his private sector infiltrating the city. Disguised as martial law, they were officially here to keep the public safe. But that was not what they did. The city ran red with the blood of the innocent, while troops needlessly searched each borough for Jack. It was undeniable. Only DarkFlood was to blame. He had no idea what the ripples of his actions entailed. But for now, he was beginning to see the toll. One thing was for sure. He could not stop. He might have caused this mess, but he was also the only one who could clean it up. DarkFlood must save the city he condemned with his foolish attempt at vigilante justice.

The stream of cries and prayers were all too much for one man to bear. Jack lost focus on his surroundings and lost his grip along with it. He threw his hands over his ears to try and make it stop, and in doing so, lost balance and fell off of the skyscraper ledge, plummeting one hundred and four stories to the ground.

He was not in control. This new psychic ability was undisciplined and incapacitated him. Jack fell helplessly as the voices got louder and louder. He passed the fiftieth floor. His eardrums were on fire. They would not stop. Jack passed out and the voices still persisted. His mind shut down in an attempt to reboot and Jack slipped into a coma. He passed the thirteenth floor with nothing to stop him from hitting the lobby with a thud.