CHAPTER 35

The dusty, green El Camino rocketed down the dark expanse of highway. Its new owner sat behind the wheel, the madness in his eyes shining out like two unholy torches and giving him a different perspective on his surroundings than anyone else who had ever traveled that particular road. His gray eyes shone with a newfound purpose and a frightening determination.

Ackerman had always felt that a strange causal and reactionary relationship bound all things together, but he had been sure that there was no real purpose or plan for any of the events. They were merely strings of random occurrences that perpetuated the day-to-day cycle of a world without meaning. He had never before seen any correlation or found any reason to believe that a grand design or higher power of the universe connected all the dots.

But now, he felt differently.

He had begun to see meaning, where previously there was only despair. He had begun to see design, where previously he had only seen chaos. He now believed that he had caught a glimpse of his own purpose and felt that his life held meaning. It was an exciting revelation. He felt like a speeding train traveling full blast into a head-on collision.

He knew what he had to do. Everything seemed so clear to him now.

He had tried to delude himself. He had tried to deny his true nature, but now he embraced the darkness within. He wasn’t a broken man. He was a demon forged in pain and blood. He couldn’t run from his true self.

Ahead lay the sleeping town of Asherton, the place where his story had been meant to go from the beginning. No doubt, the town was going about its business as usual, unsuspecting and unprepared. He intended to set the peaceful town on fire—literally.

So many things awaited him in Asherton.

He would exact his revenge upon the Sheriff. He would find a way to hurt the man who had intended to use him and then murder him. He would discover whatever he cared about most and destroy it. When he had drained the man of all hope and broken him completely, he would grant him the gift of death.

So much to do, so little time.

But there was more than just revenge awaiting him. There was purpose. He knew that the collision course he had been upon his whole life rocketed toward its pre-ordained conclusion. He knew that this path would bring him to his other half. Even now, he could feel him. He wouldn’t even have to seek him out; the other would find him.

His revenge and his destiny lay ahead, and he couldn’t wait to see them both to their conclusions.

He felt as if he had become the living personification of evil. He was the dark man now. He was the night, and it was time for night to fall upon the unsuspecting town of Asherton.