Drake (Book 1)

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[68]-London has fallen

London

Ten minutes earlier…


A storm brewed above the city like some evil concoction in a witch’s cauldron. Purple lightning cackled in its center, appearing and vanishing in an eye’s blink. Scattered clouds swirled in concentric layers; its origin focused around the archaic clock tower. Traffic ceased throughout the city as drivers exited their cars to observe the supernatural storm.

Godfrey, Lyn, and Ella were no exception, and they left the comfort of their BMW to bear witness. Darkness and clouds obscured the moon, shrouding the city; the moon’s rays unable to breach the veil of perpetual darkness. Lyn watched in awe, her gaze straying to the clock tower where lightning zoomed towards the sky. She knew the cause of such a terrifying feat. The four horsemen ready to unleash their power.

Even without her bow, Styx. She had to do something. Ever since the massacre so long ago, she vowed to never stand idle as the innocent suffered. In her eyes, those who stood and did nothing were just as guilty as the perpetrator.

In her experiences, Lyn learned this about people: twenty percent panic, ensuring more chaos; seventy percent stand petrified with fear, doing nothing, and only ten percent have the will to act. Drake enabled her to be one of those ten percenters.

She kissed Ella on the cheek and shoved her back in the car. “I love you.”

Before Ella could protest, Lyn slammed the door. She looked back where rows upon rows of cars, all stopped and horns blaring blocked any path of escape. A throb gathered in the streets, clamoring, muttering. A priest stood on a platform by the sidewalks to proclaim his sermon; proclaim the end of days.

Then a crowd gathered before him, some eyeing with deep skepticism. Others knelt in prayer, hoping to reconcile with God. A child cried. A small girl whose father rushed to comfort her. The priest prayed, sliding rosary beads between his thin fingers.

“Godfrey, if we fail, take Ella underground. You’ll be safe there.”

Godfrey nodded, put on his driver’s cap and dashed to Ella’s door, grabbing her arm hurriedly.

“Lyn! Where are you going!” Ella shouted.

It broke Lyn’s heart, reminding her of that harrowing night. The night her village was set ablaze; the stroke of Rain’s blade and the men in dark robes spilling blood in the streets.

She cupped Ella’s cheeks in her hands. “Godfrey is taking you somewhere safe. Wait for me okay?”

“I want to go with you!”

“I need you to go with Godfrey!” Lyn repeated. This time, she wasn’t asking.

She nodded, and Godfrey took her away. She watched them scoot down a flight of steps leading to a subway. Ella glanced one last time, her eyes red and poignant as she disappeared into the subway. It brought Lyn a pint of relief knowing Ella would be safe. The tower was still miles away. She needed a ride, and fast.

Lyn…

Lyn gasped. She saw a woman standing across the street in a white toga. Her body and phoenix colored hair glowed. She sauntered past a man resting on his motorcycle, a street bike with green fairings that matched her hair. Anna glanced at the bike, then her, gesturing towards it. Then she withdrew into a dark alleyway.

“What the fuck!”

Lyn knocked the man off his bike and grabbed the helmet hanging on its bars. She started the engine and revved the bike, exhaust roaring like a swarm of angry bees. She put on the helmet and faced the man, now standing and shouting curses at her. He stormed towards her, ready to reclaim his bike.

“Sorry, but I need to borrow this,” she said curtly. Her words further provoking him.

“I’m calling the fucking cops,” he replied, cell phone in hand and already dialing.

Lyn sighed and took off; a trail of smoke behind her as she weaved through traffic, stopping for no one. Leaves and trash scattered behind her and she passed a blockade of police, blowing past their vehicles before they could react. No way in hell could they chase her through these congested streets. The clock tower came into view.

Lightning struck the city, burning trees and blowing chunks of buildings. A massive slab of stone came tumbling down on the streets. People screeched as they fled, chunks smashing parked cars and the sidewalks. She shifted her weight to dodge the bolt of lightning striking a car just a few feet ahead.

The car exploded, flaming wheels rolling down the street, vehicle now a molten heap of metal. She continued full speed as more lightning descended, shattering windows and sprinkling glass on fleeing civilians. One bridge stood between her and the tower, filled with cars as expected. But it didn’t deter her in the least.

Drake, I’m coming. This time — I’ll be by your side…


9:45 p.m.

From where Drake stood; he could see the entire city, red lines carved into it where lightning struck. Plumes of smoke and fire burst in every direction. He watched a massive bolt strike Big Ben, incinerating its face and the iron hands of its clock. Then the layers of stone and steel collapsed. Another bolt smashed into London bridge, cutting it in half and sending cars into the river. Steel coils supporting the bridge snapped like whips.

He crushed the scarab, and it ignited into a burst of flames, red blade glowing and trilling. But this time, he changed its shape, fusing the scythe’s blade with his arm, a serrated chain with a weighted ball. Rain’s grip tightened on her two-handed blade.

The four horsemen broke formation, and from behind them, Drake saw Anna. He blinked. She was still there, face sullen and golden eyes pleading for justice.

“Tristan, you were the one who killed Anna. I killed you once. I can do it again…”

He thought of the hollow in her heart and the blood painted on her face; Tristan’s hand emitting purple lightning that protruded from her chest. The crucifix in his other hand glowed.

“Then as you would say,” Tristan replied, placing an arrow in his bow. “Make it happen…”

Lyn’s voice broke his stupor of vengeance. He looked to the side to see her standing at a doorway, breaths labored, hands on her knees, and green hair drenched in sweat. Still beautiful as ever.

Drake tilted his head. “How did you find us?”

Lyn formed a grin. “I followed Anna.”

Drake gasped. In her, he saw Anna’s face. The same warm smile and softness in her eyes. He fought back his tears and his voice broke for an instant. “Anna…”

Rain placed a hand on his shoulder, and glared towards the four horsemen. Lyn took her rightful place by his side, Rain on the other. Drake handed Lyn the crucifix, the only thing capable of absolving their adversaries.

A dark aura emitted from the four horsemen; blank and purple smoking lingering over them. The same aura resonated from Drake, sullying the battlefield. Lyn felt an overwhelming pressure descend upon her and she nearly dropped the crucifix.

The ground beneath Drake and the horsemen splintered, and pieces of stone from walls chipped away and floated. The massive gears rumbled and dislodged, hanging askew or falling. Deep fissures formed in the ceiling.

Lyn’s eyes widened. This pressure that’s coming from them is so heavy. It feels like it’s going to crush me…

“Don’t think we’ll go easy on you because we’re old friends,” Sir Mordred quipped.

Drake narrowed his eyes. “At least try to make this an interesting fight…”

Tristan and Drake stepped forward, and they clashed.

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