If Marcus was his other half, then he would come and put an end to this. If Ackerman’s suspicions proved to be true and there was meaning to the universe, Marcus would save these people.
Ackerman raised Maggie’s gun and took aim at the propane tank that he had placed by the back door. He had draped a flaming towel over the tank, in order to ensure that the escaping gas found a spark.
He stood at the back corner of the Asherton Tap and prepared to run—not only to get out of the path of the explosion, but also so he could get to the front of the bar before the people began to pile out.
He squeezed the trigger and rounded the corner. He wished he could have seen the explosion, but that wasn’t part of the plan. He had to settle for auditory gratification in the form of the shocked screams emitted by the bar patrons.
He reached the front of the building and took aim. Here they come. Like lambs to the slaughter.
The first person out was a young, blonde woman, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He squeezed the trigger, and the woman’s head snapped back.
The next victim was a thirty-something man with wavy black hair, who had apparently never heard of “women and children first.” A squeeze and a pop, and the man joined the blonde on the pavement.
Apparently still in shock from the explosion and not comprehending what awaited them, the people kept coming.
He aimed and squeezed with cold, mechanical movements. Pop, pop, pop. A couple members of the group escaped and ran down the street, but he expected some stragglers. They weren’t important. He had plenty of playmates still within his grasp.
Finally, the herd seemed to realize that the act of stampeding carried them into the jaws of a predator, and they retreated away from the doorway. So far, everything had gone as anticipated. By now, he surmised that the fire from the explosion should have eaten its way through the back portion of the building. It wouldn’t be long before it reached the main part of the bar, but that was far from the only concern with which the establishment’s patrons would have to contend.
They also had to worry about the madman blocking any escape from the front. Unfortunately for those trapped inside, there were only two ways out. One was into the jaws of the fire, and the other was into the jaws of a wolf.
But he wasn’t satisfied with waiting for them to come to him or burn inside. That was just the beginning.
While keeping a watchful eye out for anyone trying to escape or be a hero, he walked over to where he had left the can of gasoline. He reached down to pick up the can but caught movement in the bar’s doorway.
A pale, young man with red hair tried to make a break for it. He raised the gun. A squeeze and a pop.
The terrified screams and shocked gasps were music to his ears. He wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else trying that again, at least not until they saw what he was about to do. By that time, they would be past the point of no return.
He retrieved the gas can, walked to the front door, and doused the front of the bar with gasoline. He almost emptied the large can but left just enough in reserve to run a trail of liquid to act as a fuse.
He tried to stay in the moment, but his true thoughts wandered away from the events taking place around him. His inner ponderings remained fixed upon the young man he had met earlier that night.
He wondered whether Marcus would show. Maybe his epiphanies of meaning and preordained purpose were only delusions conjured by a warped mind and a twisted perception? Maybe the grand ideas of meaning and destiny were only what he wanted to believe?
He reached into his pocket and retrieved a lighter. He fired a few shots into the building, just to let them know that he was still there, and flipped open the top of the Zippo held in his left hand.
He struck the flint and lowered the beautiful flame toward the trail of gasoline.
Then, he paused. The flame hovered less than a foot from the gas. A sound had come from behind him, and with it, all of his prior doubts faded away.
“Don’t you move,” the voice behind him repeated.
He had heard that voice earlier in the evening.
Marcus.
Maybe there is such a thing as destiny after all?
He turned to see two men standing about twenty feet from him. One of the men, the one with the sandy blonde hair, pointed an H&K 9mm pistol at his head. The other man wielded only a fierce look of determination. Given the choice between them, he would have rather gone up against the man with the gun.
He had outrun bullets and beaten armed gunmen in the past, but he had never faced someone that filled him with a sense of dread the way that Marcus did. He wondered if this was the same sensation that his victims felt when they met his gaze. He couldn’t explain from where the feeling stemmed, but when he looked into Marcus’s eyes, he saw death.
*
Marcus stared into Ackerman’s eyes and tried to anticipate the killer’s next move.
“Slowly close the lighter and drop the gun.” He saw the gas can and knew what Ackerman had been about to do. He also knew that, if Andrew fired, the lighter’s flame would fall into the stream of gasoline and burn everyone in the bar alive. Unfortunately, he didn’t know if Andrew had seen and realized all that he had.
“I knew you would come,” Ackerman said. “You were meant to come. Both of our lives up to this point have been leading to an inevitable confrontation. You’re one side of the coin, and I’m the other. It’s who we are, who we’re meant to be.”
He and Andrew moved closer and tried to slowly circle Ackerman. But he didn’t want to get too close. As long as Ackerman held the flame, they were at the killer’s mercy. “Just close the lighter, and then you can tell me all about our destinies and how we’re connected.”
“How about I keep the gun and the lighter, and I tell you about your friend, Maggie.”
Marcus shivered at the mention of her name.
“She’s a real sweet person, Marcus. Beautiful, of course, but she also possesses a certain undeniable charisma. Quite a catch. I’m sorry I had to take her from you. After you’re finished here, why don’t you come by the abandoned school down on the edge of town and see if you can stop me from turning her insides outside. Come alone … those are the rules. Just you and me. Dark and Light. Yin and Yang. If you break the rules, then she’ll die. I promise you that. And you had better hurry. Patience is not one of my virtues.”
On the last word, Ackerman dropped the lighter.