Marcus moved toward his destiny. He wondered if everything really did happen for a reason. He wondered if everything in his life up to this point had been preparation for the situation in which he now found himself. If that were so, then maybe some of his gifts—although violent in nature—could serve a purpose.
Maybe his abilities held a similarity to the concept of a gun. A gun wasn’t inherently evil. It was merely a tool. The soul of the person who wielded it determined the nature of the tool’s use. If that was true, then maybe Ackerman was right, and they were truly reverse sides of the coin. Two men with similar gifts, but polar opposites. One man with righteousness at his core, the other harboring a darkness inside.
Then again, maybe he was just seeking justification for all that he had done and was about to do.
As he pressed forward, the school came into view. The building appeared to be in decent shape. It was apparent that someone had kept up moderate maintenance of the structure and grounds. Various shades of gray bricks with white bricks thrown in as accents covered the exterior. One end of the school was rounded and filled from top to bottom with translucent glass blocks. What appeared to be a gymnasium comprised the school’s south side. A fire escape, which ran from the ground up the building’s three stories to the roof, clung to the north edge.
He saw the playground in front. It wasn’t hard to imagine children laughing and running, playing four square, and swinging across the monkey bars. He felt glad that there were no children present now, considering the monster that had taken up residence within the halls that gossiping pre-teens and the clangs of closing lockers once filled.
As he moved toward the building, he heard thunder in the distance and felt the first few drops of rain. The wind increased in intensity. A storm was brewing.