As Marcus stood in the open window, the rain pelted him as if some unseen supernatural force willed him to turn back. He knew, however, that he could never run away. He didn’t run. He didn’t back down. He never had.
He didn’t see anyone running from the building, and the ladder that allowed someone to reach the ground was still raised. The only direction they could have gone was up.
He inched forward onto the fire escape. The term fire escape seemed funny to him at that moment, considering that he was jumping into the fire rather than escaping from it.
He looked up and saw two shadowy forms on the fire escape’s upper most platform. They weren’t moving. They were waiting. A bottomless pit opened in his stomach. Ackerman had something up his sleeve.
He slowly moved up the metal-grated stairs toward whatever madness awaited him.
Ackerman stood against the back railing of the platform and held Maggie as a human shield. He couldn’t get a clear shot. Even if he saw an opening, the killer would take Maggie over the edge with him when he fell.
Marcus was a few stairs shy of the platform when Ackerman said, “That’s far enough.”
He stopped and stood with his gun trained upon the killer.
His eyes locked with Maggie’s. Fear had replaced the usual warmth he felt from her gaze. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he said to her.
“Do you believe in destiny, Marcus?”
He moved his eyes back to the killer and chose his words carefully. “I believe that we’re here for a reason … that our lives mean something.”
“Meaning. That sums it up, doesn’t it? It’s what everyone from a priest to a serial killer is searching for. Meaning. I never even knew I was truly looking for meaning until it found me … until the realization came.”
“What realization?” he said, playing along, waiting for an opportunity.
“My meaning. The purpose of my existence. You see … I am the darkness.”
He didn’t know what Ackerman meant by that, and he didn’t want to know. Trying to understand the philosophy of the insane sometimes meant sacrificing a piece of what made you sane in the first place. He knew from experience.
“I’m the villain, the dark half, or even more simply put … I’m the bad guy. I was meant to be who I am. Without evil, how do you define good? Without darkness, how do you know the light? Without a villain, there can be no hero. And when I met you, I knew. That is my purpose.”
Ackerman’s eyes gleamed with passion as he spoke. “It takes a fire or a disaster to create some heroes, but there are also myself and others like me who force ordinary people to realize that they are capable of extraordinary feats of bravery and courage. My purpose is to make you realize your own purpose. We’re two sides of the same coin. So you see, Marcus, I am the darkness, but you … you are the light.”
Marcus hated to admit to it, but at least a small portion of what Ackerman said had made sense. Without a villain, a hero was just an ordinary man or woman, no different from anyone else. The way that a person reacted to a villain was how he or she became a hero. He had always been afraid of his abilities, but maybe he possessed them for a reason? Maybe he was meant for something more?
“If you have everything all figured out, why don’t you tell me how this ends?”
Ackerman chuckled. “You kill me, of course. You are the hero, after all.”
“This is the real world, not the movies. Good doesn’t triumph over evil. There is no riding off into the sunset, and happy endings are few and far between.”
“Oh, ye of little faith. You can shine the light into the darkness, but you can’t shine the darkness into the light. In the end, good triumphs.”
“If that’s true, then things aren’t looking up for you. I hear hell is warm this time of year.”
A moment of silence passed. “Do you believe that anyone can be forgiven?”
The question caught Marcus off guard. He had often wondered the same thing. After a moment, he said, “You’ll find no forgiveness from me or from the people you’ve hurt. But … I like to think that God is wiser and more forgiving than any of us. So … maybe. I don’t know.”
Ackerman’s face turned somber. “I have just one more question. Nothing really important in the grand scheme of things, but something I was curious about. I overheard the Sheriff say that you used to be a cop in New York. Why aren’t you one anymore?”
Silence.
Ackerman grabbed Maggie’s throat with his free hand and began to crush her larynx. She issued a sharp scream before the breath left her.
“I asked you a question!”
“Because I murdered someone!”
Ackerman released his grip and let Maggie breathe again.
She looked up at Marcus with shock born not from the attack, but from his response.
He wanted to explain, but he said nothing. He couldn’t change the past. He could only ask forgiveness for it.
Ackerman didn’t seem surprised by his declaration. Somehow, the killer had known his answer before asking. “One of the only lessons of value that my father taught me was that you always finish what you begin. I’m leaving now, but keep in mind that if you think like my father, then you’ll know where to find me.”
Marcus stepped forward. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Ackerman smiled and said, “You’re going to have to do better the next time we meet. Play time’s over.”
Without warning, Ackerman swung out a powerful arm and swept Maggie backward over the railing.