Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rick opened his eyes – it pained him to do so – and brought his right hand to the back of his head. There he found what he had already expected; his hand bloody and a cut in his head about the size of a dime. He looked around and all he could see was the dust and debris slowly subsiding.

Several minutes had passed and he was finally able to see his surroundings once again. He stood up and a thought entered his mind: Why hadn’t he awakened when Orion was killed? Or, why hadn’t he disappeared when the ceiling fell on him? Surely one of these incidents would have awakened him.

And then he discovered that he was not alone. He heard the breathing first, followed by the crunching of pebbles beneath shoes. “Who’s there?” Rick dared to ask before his eyes could focus.

An obscene chuckle came forth by way of response and Rick lowered his head and shook it slowly from side to side – he knew that chuckle. He should have fled, yet he did not. This worried Rick. Why didn’t he run and save his own ass? What’s in it for him now?

Rick didn’t stay around to ask Allen these questions; he turned around and ran as fast as his battered body could take him through a familiar tunnel.

He didn’t slow down until he spotted sight of the warm fire ablaze in the center of the circular chamber. Rick reached James in minutes. He was thankful he could not hear any footfalls of pursuit.

James looked shocked to find Rick had returned; he had never foreseen meeting Rick or Tracy ever again. “What are you doing here?” asked James, who stood on the opposite side of the flames. He did not know what was going on and he didn’t like it in the least – knowledge was his power, and since Rick performed an act totally against what he knew, he was in uncharted waters now.

Rick, who was almost completely out of breath, lifted his hands. “Please, help me,” he began and James lowered his eyebrows.

“Explain your needs. I am listening.”

Rick glanced around at the other tunnel entrances for any sign of Allen. “I need to know why Allen is still here. Why is he still hanging around after his master died?” Rick was pacing nervously back and forth on his side of the flames. His head hurt like hell, but there was nothing he could do about this now.

James contemplated this information and shared an equal expression of nervousness. “Allen is not prophesied for you. He is chronicled for – for the sake of saving your life – your son, Vincent,” he explained as he looked deep into Rick’s eyes through the dancing flames.

A sickening feeling began churning deep in the pit of Rick’s stomach. “My son,” he could not make out any further reply; he was in too much of a state of bewilderment to know what to say next.

Again, there was no time for James to elaborate further about the mysterious future of Rick and his family. When James opened his mouth to speak, blood splattered out and he looked down to see the tip of a glistening sword come through his legs and up the middle of his entire body.

Just as the two halves of James separated and fell to the floor in a wet thud, Rick was staring into the face of Allen, who was smiling and had been holding the sword which ended James’ life. When he was certain that he had Rick’s undivided attention, he heaved the sword up and propped over his shoulder.

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Allen began pacing his side of the flames; all the while watching Rick, trying to figure what the best action would be next. He glanced up at the skeletal guardian who was quietly sitting above one tunnel entrance and then noticed the sword that lay next to its right arm.

With his own sword he reached up and knocked the guardian’s sword free and it fell to the ground with a loud clank. Satisfied, Allen bent down and picked it up and studied the steel with admiration. “Nice smith work,” he muttered and then looked back at Rick – who had been watching Allen in return.

“James said you were prophesied for my son,” Rick began and Allen looked a bit irritated that Rick was even speaking to him.

Allen picked up his strength and hoisted the sword into the air, through the belching flames. Instinctively, Rick reached out his hand and caught it without so much as a sting in the palm of his hand as the hilt entered his awaiting hand. “Prophecies change every day,” Allen replied as he glanced at his opponent from down the tip of his sword.

Rick nodded in agreement. “So they do,” he said and lifted his sword and pointed it at Allen, who nodded in return to the unspoken acknowledgement of the battle.

Slowly, they paced to and fro – all the while studying the other for any sign of an attack. “You don’t have any idea of who I really am, do you?” Allen watched Rick behind sadistic eyes.

“I don’t care,” replied Rick as sweat dripped off his nose. “I’m too tired for any more secrets.”

Allen grinned; and then it happened. He threw himself through the flames and charged at Rick, sword held high for the kill. Rick was limber enough to dodge the blow and rolled several feet away from Allen. Rick stood back up in a hurry and had decided to find out what fate had in store for him as he, too, charged at Allen. When Allen defended the blow with his sword, sparks flew off steel as their blades connected for the first time.

Sparks flew off their blades as Rick drew Allen up against the wall. Allen winced as he felt his back spasm and crack down the spine. But it did not stop him. It only enraged him. Lifting his leg, Allen kicked Rick in the abdomen, sending him rolling several feet.

Once Rick was on the ground, Allen took the advantage and leapt, sword raised above his head, and landed inches from his prey. As he came down, he brought his blade down and Rick quickly rolled into Allen’s legs – avoiding the blow and knocking Allen to the ground.

Standing, Rick grabbed his sword and swung down, only to be blocked by Allen’s sword again. Rick was shocked to see more sparks fall from their twin blades of destruction. He swung a second time, more quickly, but Allen blocked it as he brought his sword behind his back.

In that single motion, Allen swung his waist around, sword following, and he lashed out – nearly taking off Rick’s left leg at the knee.

They were both using rage as their allies while they began a lengthy series of quick attacks and defenses with such rapidity it was a wonder how either of the two could see what they were doing. The sparks were flying as steel clanged and echoed around the chamber.

After several long agonizing minutes, something had happened which would change the entire course of the battle. Several sparks fell onto Rick’s hand, singeing his flesh and he reflexively dropped his sword. Allen saw his chance and in the next swift stroke, he had severed his opponent’s hand at the wrist.

Devilishly satisfied, Allen caught it as it began descending with a malicious grin on his young sweat-caked face. The two combatants stared one another down for what felt like an eternity. Rick was fighting like hell to block out the pain as he cupped his bloodied stump under his armpit.

Allen smiled and casually tossed Rick’s hand into the fire. Rick, horror-struck, watched as his own flesh and bone caught fire and melted from existence. Just out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Allen was about to attack again, but something happened to Rick.

His eyes snapped open and looked into the beautiful blue eyes of his savior, a young woman doctor he had never met.