Chapter Seventy-Seven

Jenny’s eyes were dead leaves on a black road during a moonless night. There used to be a care free joy around the girl. A shining light of infectious innocence.

That was gone now. As dead as her eyes.

Ambrose had expected rage, tears, and pounding fists. He expected the girl to curse his name, but there was none of that.

She faced him like a statue during a sunny day.

“I called out to you. For help.” It wasn’t a question.

Jenny looked at him like he wasn’t really there. As if he wasn’t a person.

He nodded,

“You did.”

Andrea looked as if to about to speak, but he raised a hand for her to be silent. She closed her mouth quickly, biting her lip, and casting worried eyes towards the girl.

“You didn’t answer.”

He shook his head,

“No, I didn’t.”

He thought about offering excuses. Giving the girl some kind of explanation. He quickly dismissed the idea. It wouldn’t help, and none of it would be true.

It was his fault. He wasn’t about to brush that away.

Jenny nodded as if expecting this answer. Then, as if choosing the perfect knife for the job, she said,

“I’m going to kill you.”

Andrea gasped,

“Jenny yo-”

He raised a hand, shaking his head at her. He regarded the girl. He didn’t feel angry, he didn’t rage at her.

A waters gentle calmness lapped against the shores of his mind.

“You’ll have a lot of work ahead of you if that’s your goal. I’m not easy to kill.”

Her dead eyes sparked, a glitter of determination passing through their depths.

“I’ll gain power. Then I’ll use it against you. I’ll do it, I promise I will.”

Andrea put a hand over her mouth, large glimmering droplets fell from her eyes as her body shook.

Jenny’s fists had balled up, she firmed her mouth into a line. Ambrose gave her a sad smile. Someone may have said that he should say sorry. Others would have advocated for much harsher actions against the girl.

Maybe he should try to convince her. Many would have advocated for that. After all, it wasn’t entirely his fault Darren was dead.

Stolen story; please report.

There were very real and very good reasons supporting that argument. Ambrose had been said that he had goals beyond them.

He had given people a choice. Darren could have chosen not to do what he did, instead going into the tunnel with his daughter.

That Ambrose was busy with more dangerous foes, and had he not been, it could have been a lot worse.

Yes, he could have made that case.

It would have been pointless.

Jenny’s innocence was gone. Ambrose mourned that, but she was still a child. A pre-teen girl, and her resolve was clear. His reason’s wouldn’t reach her. He had told Vivienne that logic was meaningless when it came to some things. He had been right about that.

Their confrontation would come, but it wouldn’t be today.

“I won’t ask you to leave. You can stay here, Jenny. Grow, become powerful. One day, when you feel strong enough, we can settle this between you and I.”

Jenny nodded sharply, then turned and strode away. Andrea and Ambrose watched her go.

“Give her time. She’ll come around,” Andrea said.

Ambrose stared after her, expressionless.

“Maybe,” was all he said.

Rebuilding was in full swing. They didn’t have another Darren who just put buildings up in a second, but they did have people with the necessary knowledge, and had even earned a profession that did help speed things along. New buildings were already going up. Most of the paved roads, and sidewalks stayed intact, and what buildings hadn’t been touched were left alone.

Ambrose helped as well, hauling away scrap to be burned, or helping with the heavy lifting.

It was silent work for the most part, but a welcome distraction for everyone.

It was decided to burn most of the corpses, and the smoke from the fires blackened the sky. Darren’s body was put to the side, and prepared for a special burial.

Everyone on Avalon met on the western beach for that. A wooden boat had been built for the purpose, and Darren’s body had been wrapped, and placed on it. Ambrose, Thom, and Andrea pushed it out to sea.

The sun was setting, and it was a burning ember across the waves. A dying, burning red that highlighted Darren’s boat as it headed out to sea. A slight breeze, carrying the scent of ash, sand and earth upon it tousled his hair.

Ambrose turned to regard the large group that looked at him with somber expressions.

“Darren was a good man. He died doing what any father should do. Protecting his daughter.”

Jenny’s blank face did not change when he said this. He hadn’t expected it to. He cleared the tightness in his throat, going on,

“He shouldn’t have had to. This was my failure, and mine alone. I own that. I carry that. But tonight is not about me. It is about remembrance. Remembrance for the man who built Avalon, who stood beside us all as monsters came for us. Already, builders are working on a hall. It will be our town hall, and it shall be known as Darren’s Hall, in honor of what Darren did for us. Any who go there will be reminded of his sacrifice, his bravery, and his love for his daughter.”

Ambrose clenched his fingers, knuckles going white against his skin as his voice filled with the sudden fury of a thunder clap.

“I promise you this, his death will not go unanswered. We have trying days ahead, but when preparations are complete, I will be going after the man ultimately responsible for Darren’s death. He will pay.”

Jenny whirled around and stalked away from the funeral, her shoulder tight, her posture rigid.

Ambrose did not call after her. He knew what he had said made her angry, but it had needed saying. He turned and sent a ball of hellfire at Darren’s funeral boat. The eruption of flame shot into the air as the boat burned. Smoke drifted into the sky, and the fires flickered over the expressions of those gathered.

Silent tears fell, gleaming in the ember light, staining the sand below.

All of them, every single one gathered, lifted two fingers, touched their lips and held them out in the air towards the boat that burned away. There were no cries of sadness, no sobs echoed throughout the night. Just silent tears for a fallen hero.

Thomas’s eyes shone with pride as he looked at the boat, his throat working in an up and down motion. Andrea was holding her two fingers out as if she could touch the boat if she strained hard enough.

The light of the sun faded away, the only shadows moving across the sea were those of the fires dying embers.

As the ashes mixed with the sea, Ambrose sent out a silent message, hoping that wherever he was in the world, Eric heard it.

I’m coming for you, you bastard. Wherever you are, wherever you go, I will find you, and you will pay for all that you have done.