One Blood

Chapter Eighty-Three

Chapter Eighty-Three

Lincoln awoke to large chunks of plaster falling from the ceiling in a torrent. He was lying in several inches of water that was rising steadily. His handcuffs had broken in the fall and he was able to rub his sore wrists. Remembering the noose, he reached for his throat. Then he thought of Isaac.

We broke the cycle. Somehow, we did it.

A blast of heat brought him back to reality. The mansion was on fire. He had to get out before it was too late.

What about Brandon? Coral? Karen?

Lincoln struggled to sit up and was greeted by a searing ache in his lower back. He didn’t know if he could walk, but he had to get up or die trying.

Sharp metal sliced into his shoulder. Lincoln screamed.

“Thought you were rid of me, Boy?” Randy Lafitte said from behind him.

Randy swung the blade again, just narrowly missing Lincoln’s torso. Another chunk of ceiling crashed down next to Randy, knocking him off balance.

As adrenaline coursed through his veins, Lincoln lunged at Randy, slamming him into the staircase. Randy lost his grip on the knife and Lincoln could tell his adversary was weakening.

A giant funnel of wind was headed directly toward the house. Another explosion divided the men and threw Lincoln onto his back. The floor rumbled beneath them as the tornado rushed onshore and tore through the house. The bay windows buckled and then imploded, sending thousands of glass shards leaping at him. The roof flexed downward as if something heavy had landed on it, and then rippled upward. Lincoln stared into the center of hell as rain and glass whipped him.

As the roof went, the chandelier broke free and nearly crushed him. Randy was not so lucky. He’d recovered the knife, only to be stopped in his tracks by the falling fixture. Randy grunted and went silent.

Thankfully, the knife was just out of Randy’s reach. The collapse had also knocked off his mask. Amazingly, not only was Randy still alive, his hand was floundering for his weapon.

Lincoln made his way back to Randy, and the knife. He was about to pick it up and finish him off when a thought gave him pause.

“Who would want to kill their own father?”

“Aren’t you trying to do the same thing?”

Was he? Lincoln had never hesitated to kill in the past. In the hood and in prison, that type of hesitation got you killed. He wasn’t in prison anymore though.

The patio door blew open and the lake poured in, interrupting these thoughts. Before he could reconsider, Lincoln cleared the chandelier off Randy, pulled him to his feet and carried him to the front door before the water dragged them both to their deaths. He got Randy outside and closed the door on the chaos, only to see the tree where Isaac had died completely engulfed in flames.

He dropped Randy in a heap on the front steps. He couldn’t believe what was happening right before his eyes.

The tree was burning and surrounded by an ominous red glow. There was a square opening in the trunk. It appeared to be a doorway. As he watched, Karen Lafitte ran across the yard and into the mysterious portal while Brandon held her hysterical mother back.

“Karen!” Coral screamed. “What are you doing? You’ll die in there!”

A moment later, Karen was swallowed whole by the void. It might have only been his imagination, but as she entered, Lincoln swore he heard the tree howl in agony. Then the rain, raging wind, and fire shut off like someone threw a switch. Seconds later, Kris Lafitte stepped out of the hole and walked toward Lincoln.