Unearthly Power (28 page)

He was caught looking around at the furnishings of the cabin itself and lost sight of his partner. He was sure he went down the corridor as he saw a shadow ahead. He decided to wait until he was certain. The next person he saw was Finley. Finley stood frozen when he saw Sean in front of him. Not because he recognized him so much as he saw what he was holding in his hand. Before Sean could act, he turned and ran back the way he had come. That was when the first non-silenced gun shot rang out.

Sean moved ahead, taking his time and making sure he would not be caught off-guard or in any cross-fire. He saw his partner lying down on the floor unmoving.
He must have come out of one of the rooms as Finley ran by
. When another body appeared on the other end of the corridor, it was Finley again. This time he had his own weapon and fired at Sean. Sean ducked into a room and dropped to the floor. Finley continued to fire through the wall itself as it was not thick enough to withstand the bullets. The rounds were going high, so Sean knew Finley must have assumed he was standing. He held the gun in front of his face, stretched his legs out behind him, and turned around the edge of the door. He saw Finley standing much closer than where he had been when he entered the room. With one hand, he pointed the gun down the hallway, without aiming, and pulled the trigger twice. Finley stopped firing. Sean’s eyes locked onto him and he saw that he was not moving. Curiously Sean watched, avoiding the temptation of firing again. Finley dropped to his knees as a small line of blood flowed from his mouth, and then he fell, face first into the carpeted floor.

Sean stood up and walked to him. He nudged him with his foot and was satisfied that he was no longer a threat. He picked up his gun and put it into his waistband at the small of his back.

He could hear the scuffles and the occasional gunshot on virtually every part of the boat. He decided it was safer to remain inside. He cautiously walked around the passageway until he came into a large open room. The room was dark, but he could still make out its borders. When he moved further into the room, he felt before he heard the suppressed gunshot. The round hit him in the meaty part of his shoulder. He dropped his gun, unable to maintain the strength to keep it in hand.

Lights came on in the room revealing Marcel, holding the pistol Sean was shot with, and another man that could only be Silas Chandler. Marcel looked as though he would be more than happy to provide a repeat pe
rformance. Before that happened Chandler spoke.

“You must be the Rylan boy,” he said in a haughty manner.

There was an obvious aura of arrogance about him. Even if it hadn’t been for the events of the last few weeks, Sean would have taken an instant dislike of the man.

“I think very highly of your sister, but it seems as if maybe she is the one with all of the intellect. I don’t think she would ever be so foolish as to do something like this.” He stepped behind a covered box and made himself less of a visible target.

Sean wasn’t sure why he did this, as he was mostly focused on Marcel and the gun he kept pointed at him.

“I must thank you for this,” he said as he patted the covered box. “And this,” he said as he lifted the staff from behind and held it to his side. “Too bad you won’t get a chance to witness it in action. I’m afraid I’ve already kept Marcel long enough from getting his satisfaction
as far as you are concerned.”

Taking that as a cue to action, Sean looked for a way out. When the smile had fully developed on Marcel’s face, Sean knew what was coming next. A sound from the other end of the room distracted him for the precious seconds he needed. Sean used his weak side hand to remove the gun from his waistband, and pointed it at Marcel. He fired three times as quickly as he could pull the trigger. He continued to pull on it, after those three shots, but this provided nothing more than the sound of metal striking metal. Marcel was dead before he fell to the floor.

Leandro walked into the room holding his weapon out in front of him. He nodded toward Sean and then turned to face Chandler. Silas Chandler remained unconcerned at the series of events. He even attempted a brief smile as the other two men looked on.

“You will hand over the ark and the rod,” Leandro demanded with his weapon pointing directly at him.

“I think not.”

Sean stood with his weapon also pointing at Silas Chandler. He remained that way until it dawned on him that it was now useless. He tossed it on a small couch that ran along the wall. He stepped closer to Leandro.

“You cannot harm me while I have this,” Chandler said confidently while holding up the wooden staff.              

“We will not leav
e here without it,” Leandro countered just as assuredly.

To Sean it seemed to be a
stalemate. Neither man was one hundred per cent sure of what could and could not be done with the rod. Sean was sure then that Chandler had yet to attempt to use it. He smiled inwardly. He also recalled what the professor had told him about its use. He now stepped between the two men and looked directly at Silas Chandler.

“Use it. You might as well try because I’m going to wrench it from your hands and do something to you with it that it was never
intended for.” He said this as he walked slowly but purposefully at the man.

In a fit of rage and consumed with power, Silas Chandler held the rod out before him and pointed it at Sean. “Die!” he said with hatred in his eyes.

Sean stopped in mid-stride. He remained that way as if held immobile. A moment later, he saw the incredulous look on Silas Chandler’s face. The hand which held the rod was turning ashen gray. It continued to radiate in dark undertones as his skin slowly peeled away. The effect was continuing up his arm and throughout his entire body. His face was locked into a look of consternation as it was happening. Before he could let out a cry, the rod fell from his hands and his body was fully consumed. In a matter of seconds the person who was Silas Chandler became nothing more than a pile of ashes.

Sean walked over, kicked at the ashes and then leaned down to pick up the rod. As he had experienced before while recovering from the drug he had been given, the rod worked to heal his wound. He stood with it in hand until the damage in his arm was completely restored. Leandro stared in amazement at what had been done, to Chandler and then again with Sean.

He walked over to Leandro and handed him the rod. “I think this belongs to you.”

He reached out and accepted it. After holding it in his hands and studying it he said, “No, it belongs to no man to whom it has not been given. We will protect it and make sure it stays out of the hands of those who would abuse its power.”

Sean nodded his agreement.

When he was at last able to take his eyes away from it, he turned to Sean and said, “Why did that happen?”

When Sean saw that he indicated the pile of ashes he understood the question. “Professor James told me the rod could not be used for anything other than God’s purpose. The power would only reflect the approval of his will. I didn’t think Chandler was part of that purpose, nor part of his will, so I decided to let whatever was going to happen, happen.”

“That is crazy. What if it didn’t work as you thought?”

“It’s not a matter of sanity;
it is a matter of faith,” he said with a smile.

Leandro could do nothing but return it.

Sean didn’t think he had anything to fear. He had used the power of the rod himself and was somehow sure that he was safe, although he didn’t think it would happen exactly the way it did.

Leandro walked over to the covered ark. He threw off the sheet, held the staff in one hand, and pushed on the top of the ark to move its lid. A sharp hiss of air, as if a seal was broken, came as a result. He pushed the cover aside
far enough to allow him to place the rod back into its rightful place. He then closed the lid once more. When he turned to Sean, he was greeted by a strange look.

The hair on his head and his face was as white as new wool. Even his eyebrows were fully white in color. His face was no older, but his eyes appeared as if they had somehow aged as well. Realizing something was different, he walked to a mirror which hung along the wall.

“I guess that means you now have the responsibility of guardianship,” Sean suggested.

“Indeed,” Leandro replied, still considering his changed appearance. “This was from the ark. Only those who were approved can handle it, let alone look inside. The rod protected me.”

When they looked once again at each other Sean said, “Well, that just means no one can take it back out. I think that is a good thing.”

             
Leandro nodded in agreement.   

             
S
ean slept through most of the flight home. Leandro made the arrangements for his flight and the men who were with him all wished him well. They made him feel as if he were one of them, which was quite contrary to their initial reaction to his involvement. He assured Leandro that he could handle his friend in the FBI. Either way, it didn’t really matter. There was nothing they could do about it now.

When the flight attendants drew near to him, he opened one eye to see what they were doing. They had a metal cart between them and were handing out breakfast trays. He decided his hunger outweighed his exhaustion and moved to sit upright. He accepted everything they offered with a smile and was finished with his meal before they completed their service. He looked across the two seats and out the small window to see the sun rising somewhere in the distance, signaling a new day. He thought the least they could have done for him was get him a first class ticket for his ride home,
after all he had done for them
, but it didn’t turn out so bad as the large plane was only half full.

When
his plane landed in Newark, he was anxious about the fact that he still did not have his passport. Leandro assured him that he would have someone take care of him. Sean thought that was dubious at best as it was unlikely they would ever see each other again. When he approached the customs agent he simply handed her his driver’s license and smiled. She raised her eyebrows in question before taking notice of the name. She turned and called someone he assumed was her supervisor and handed him Sean’s license. He came to the counter and asked Sean to follow him. He walked him through that section of the terminal and pointed him to the baggage claim.

He held his hand out and said, “Thank you.”

Sean took his hand and dipped his head once in acknowledgment.
These guys are everywhere
, he thought to himself.

He walked to the baggage area, not to claim any luggage, but to hopefully fi
nd Alex and Dee waiting for him. He called them two days before he flew out and asked them to meet him there. Dee told him that they held Tori’s funeral services in her hometown the day before he called. Her uncle had taken care of all of the arrangements and even saw to their needs.

When she saw him, she ran over and wrapped her arms around her older brother. He returned it and watched over her shoulder as Alex walked over.

Alex shook his hand. “I was willing to stay behind at the hotel for you, but you didn’t mention anything about going out of the country,” he said in a tone of mild resentment.

“Nothing I could do about it. Dee should have told you what happened.”

The look on Alex’s face indicated he had been told, but still he wasn’t happy about it. He shrugged his shoulders as if accepting what had happened, and at having the satisfaction of letting him know how he felt about it. They smiled at each other as only friends who were this close did, indicating that all was forgiven.

They rode west on Interstate 80 until they came to the Danville, Pennsylvania, exit. Sean was bombarded with questions about what had happened as soon as they got in the car. He did his best to answer them even when they seemed to doubt his commentary regarding some of the more extraordinary parts of the story. Dee even asked him to show her his upper arm where he had been shot. After she saw the repaired flesh, she believed him. She recalled the holes in his shirt on the day he had come into Silas Chandler’s house. She would look at his chest the next time he had his shirt off to see if he had similar marks there.

Alex drove them to the edge of town before they turned east on a side road. It led them past a large hospital and through a residential area where the houses themselves nearly came down to the road
side. He slowed the car and turned onto what Sean thought was a paved alley before coming to a sign that hung across the top of it that read ‘Odd Fellows Cemetery.’

“What a name,” he s
aid out loud. No one answered.

Alex pulled near to where the burial plot was located. They had little trouble finding it because of the freshly moved earth. The three of them stood there while Sean moved a little closer to the headstone. It was the first time he had ever been to a cemetery as an adult. The only indication of the person buried below was a name and the dates indicating her lifespan.
Such an unworthy testament to the person who made their mark in life. In the end I guess we are all just names engraved on a stone,
he thought. He stared at the stone marker for a few more minutes before Dee walked to his side and placed her hand in his.