“Moron...” Vincent sighed, gritting his teeth and looking venomously at Purdue. “That was some fancy footwork.”
“You think that is?” Purdue knew he couldn't pull off that stunt again. He was extremely lucky that it had even worked the one time. There was only one option left before another one of those smart arrows found its way to him.
He had to run—and he did.
Purdue turned and sprinted away before Vincent Moore could engage him in a sword duel or that archer, Torsten, could start raining more arrows down on him. Unfortunately, Torsten had already fired another one. Purdue used the Scarlet Sword's great speed to dash through alleyways again but could see an arrow following his movements close behind. He jumped over fences and weaved his way through archways, but that one arrow kept on him, curving and spinning through the air. It would catch up with him soon enough, and would probably go through some place more vital than part of his leg this time.
The streets had some people walking down them, and Purdue must have looked ridiculous zipping past them with a sword and arrow trailing behind him. As he passed by, there were sporadic screams from people who probably thought they were imagining things when they saw the arrow chasing him. After all, it completely defied all the laws of physics. Purdue had to be careful not to weave too much between crowds, just in case someone got caught in the crossfire. These were innocent people, not the big guy with the ax, so he wouldn't be using any of them as human shields like he had with that man.
He glanced back and could still see the arrow zipping through the air. It never ran out of steam, which was both remarkable and utterly terrifying. It would probably follow him to the ends of the earth if it wasn't stopped...but there was no stopping it. Not really...unless...Purdue banked hard to his right and stormed into a store, slamming the entrance door closed behind him. He waited to hear the arrow smack against the closed door, unable to breach through it.
The sound never came.
Instead, he heard glass shatter and the arrow punctured through one of the store's windows. It was too smart, finding an alternate way to get to him. He should have waited until the last second before closing the door, just like he had with Clive, then the arrow wouldn't have had time to find an alternate route. He swore under his breath as the other people in the store shrieked at the sight of the arrow maneuvering around them.
“Everybody get down!” He hollered, and most of the people in the place flung themselves to the floor, covering their heads with their hands.
The arrow was quickly approaching. He had a couple of options. He could flee from the store and continue the chase, risking all of these bystanders. He could try the door trick again, but there was a good chance it wasn't going to work. Or he could try knocking that thing out of the air. He was tired of running, and the longer it lasted, the slower he was getting, even with his improved stamina from the Scarlet Sword's power. If the chase kept up, he would eventually run out of steam. The arrow, on the other hand, didn't seem like it was going to ever tire out.
Purdue raised his sword, trusting that his enhanced speed would be enough to bring it down. He got in a stance like he was playing the most deadly game of tennis ever played. The arrow was close, darting toward him above all of the panicked civilians cradled on the floor of the shop. He readied himself. “Come on, you little bastard! Come and get it!”
The arrow was right in front of him, within range of his sword. In a second it would be piercing his flesh. This was it.
Purdue swung as fast as he could at the arrow, and for a moment, it looked like the blade was going to make contact and knock it out of the way. The arrow had other plans apparently, and suddenly careened downward, out of reach of the Scarlet Sword, dodging it entirely and continuing its trajectory toward his face.
He saw a flash of his own face in the arrowhead as it came to his eye. Purdue's free hand shot upward in one last attempt to stop the bolt, and he managed to wrap his fingers around the shaft of the arrow. He squeezed hard and caught the arrow, stopping it just an inch away from his eyeball. The arrowhead was poking out through his closed fist, like a hissing head of some trapped beast.
Purdue breathed hard, his hand shaking violently as the arrow still tried to push itself forward into him. He could feel its momentum trying to get him with all of its might, but he kept it at bay. It was like he was arm wrestling with an invisible opponent as the arrow's force started pushing his arm back.
Some of the people in the store were getting up from where they lay, looking at him with wide eyes. None of this probably made any sense to them, but he didn't blame them. It wasn't every day that someone saw ancient weapons imbued with old world magic trying to kill someone.
It was taking all of his strength to keep the arrow from reaching him. He gasped for air and trembled as he tried to hold it off. The people standing up were distracting him from what he needed to be focused on.
“Nobody move!” He blurted out, more aggressively than he intended. Some people screamed, thinking they were still in danger. They didn't realize he had already saved them from the danger. He was the one that needed rescuing. “Just-just s-s-st-stay still, aye?” Purdue choked through his own clenched teeth.
He wouldn't die like this; he refused. He'd gotten away from those bastards. He'd even taken one of them down. There was no way he was going to let all of that go to waste to be killed by some magic arrow that didn't know when to stop flying. He wouldn't let that be etched into his headstone: David Purdue – Murdered By Farthest Arrow Shot Ever Taken. That would just be embarrassing without proper context, and it would be giving that Torsten guy far too much credit as an archer. He was probably an awful shot when he was using a regular bow. It wasn't fair at all that his arrow could just find its target.
Purdue's hands were sweating all over the arrow in his grasp. He'd never held something so tightly before, not even the Scarlet Sword. If he slipped up, that was it. He let out a primal roar of effort and spun his body around, keeping a good grasp on the arrow. He flung his clenched hand forward and plunged the arrow into the wall of the store, snapping the arrowhead off of the shaft.
The arrow in his hand grew still without its head. It wasn't trying to push forward anymore. He had decapitated the killer bolt. Cautiously, he opened his fist and let the broken shaft drop to the floor beside the broken tip.
That was far too close.
The spectators all stared at him in shock, looking at his sword nervously. He turned the sword upside down so that its blade wasn't facing them. He could feel himself blushing from all of the attention he was getting for this and laughed nervously. “Please pardon me for the interruption.”
Purdue picked up the pieces of the magic arrow in one hand and kept hold of the Scarlet Sword with the other and then politely saw himself out. Hopefully, his pursuers weren't waiting for him outside. Outrunning an evil arrow had really taken a lot out of him, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to take much more of their assault. Hell, Vincent Moore hadn't even had a chance to join in on the fight.
Luckily, it seemed that he had truly lost them. He looked around carefully and even looked up at the sky, making sure that no more arrows were going to come descending down from the heavens.
9
CHAPTER NINE – THE RIVALS
“How are we going to explain this to Julian?”
Vincent had been wondering that himself. Their ambush certainly had not turned out the way he was hoping it would. Despite having the element of surprise, David Purdue was able to get away. Not only that, he'd gotten Clive killed in the process.
He scanned the streets frantically, needing to find Purdue more than anything. If they could just catch sight of him, here and now, this wouldn't be over. They could fix this without ever having to tell Julian about their blunder. His and Torsten's reputations and dignity could still be salvaged. But as he looked all around them, there was no sign of his target. That sword had given him the speed to make quite a quick getaway.
This sh
ould have been an easy job, but Vincent should have expected that a man like Purdue was going to be far more difficult than he seemed at first glance. He hadn't become the most hated of the Order of the Black Sun's enemies by being a pushover. It was all supposed to go differently. Vincent had assured Julian that it would. Now he looked like just as much of an incompetent fool as his brother had.
No.
He looked even worse than that because unlike Victor, Vincent had two other skilled killers helping him—yet still somehow failed. It would be difficult to live this one down.
Torsten handed him a phone. “This one is your call.”
“My call? You should do it,” Vincent said defensively. He didn't feel like having to deliver the bad news. Julian was most definitely the type of madman who would kill the messenger if they brought him information that he didn't like.
“Why me?” Torsten asked with a slight hint of agitation. “I got the closest to killing him out of all three of us. Clive did nothing but stumble around with that ax, and you...you didn't even make any contact at all with your sword. I was the closest.”
“Well you didn't get close enough to kill him, did you? If you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation. All your arrow had to do was hit him in the head instead of in the leg. It would have all been over then.”
“I can't control its exact mark. Once I release it, those arrows I fire practically have a mind of their own. All they want to do is hit him; I don't think they really care where. You know Julian best. You've known him the longest. It should be you.”
That was tough to argue against.
“Fine,” Vincent said. “But you're carrying that ax back to base then when we're done.”
Torsten glanced down at the battle ax that no longer had an owner. It was long and massive, and he was meek and slender. It would be more than a challenge for him to have to carry it all the way back. It would probably be physically impossible.
“We'll flip for it,” Torsten decided. “That's a fair way to decide.”
“You're a child,” Vincent sneered but went along with the decision. It was better than just arguing back and forth for the rest of time.
Torsten pulled out a coin and determined the rules. If it landed on heads, it would be Vincent that had to call. If it was tails, it would be Torsten. It was the best out of three. The first coin flip rocketed into the air and landed back in Torsten's palm with the head side facing up. The second flip ended the same way—a clean sweep without a need for a third.
“Like I said,” Torsten said with his usual quiet glee. “It's your call.”
Vincent took the phone grudgingly and pressed Julian's contact number. He heard the dial tone and waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, after the fourth ring, Julian's voice broke through the static.
“I hope you have an update for me,” Julian said expectantly. It wasn't a question. He wanted a status report immediately, and he wanted it to be good.
“I do...” Vincent hated having to be the bearer of bad news, but someone had to—and he had lost the coin toss.
“Well?” Julian hissed. “Don't leave me in suspense. Shall I expect Purdue's corpse?”
“No,” Vincent said, feeling a small sting of shame. He quickly added, “Not quite yet.”
There was silence on the other line for a moment. Vincent could practically see Julian's rising fury through the phone. The Black Sun leader had probably just decided how he was going to kill Vincent for this failure.
“But you made contact, then?”
“We did,” Vincent said honestly, trying to sound at ease. “We found Purdue. We threw what we had at him...but he ran...” Here was the test to see how Julian would react to the full story. “But not before we took a casualty. Clive is dead.”
A long exhale came through the speaker. “You're certain?”
“I'm looking at his big, dead body right now.”
Julian sighed again. “Purdue killed Clive.”
“Not exactly. Clive made a pretty big mistake and got himself killed.” That wasn't a lie, Vincent reminded himself. Clive had gotten in the way trying his hardest to be the one to kill Purdue. It was his own fault that he ended up with an arrow in his face. His death wasn't on him and Torsten, even if Torsten had been the one to fire the shot that killed him. “There was nothing we could have done for him, but he died all the same.”
“Why are you talking to me when you should be out there tracking Purdue down again?” Julian snapped, obviously frustrated by the whole thing. “You're wasting your time and giving him a chance to get even further away.”
“Maybe that's a good thing,” Vincent said calmly. “The sword can still be tracked. We let him think he got away, give him a little time to rest up, and then hit him when he least expects it.”
“I don't have time for that,” Julian said sternly. “I said I needed him dead as soon as possible. He needs to be dealt with immediately. No stalling. No buying time. No waiting him out. Pursue him. Now.”
“You tasked us with handling this,” Vincent replied, getting angry. “This is how we're going to handle this...because every time we've rushed in to kill him, he's come out on top, and one of us has died. First my brother. Now Clive. Torsten and I will get this done, but we're not going to do something stupid and get ourselves killed like they did.” Vincent suddenly felt like they were back to how it used to be, before Julian was the leader of the entire order, and when he could speak to him more as an equal. “If you have a problem with that, Julian, you can come out here and handle it yourself. You want to tag in? I'll gladly slap your hand if you do. You can take your shot at him. See how you fare.”
Torsten's mouth fell open as he stood by. He probably couldn't believe anyone would speak to Julian like that, but Vincent didn't care if he was in charge. He was still that same guy that he had never liked. He didn't have to kiss his ass like the rest of them did, especially when Vincent had plenty of support within the order.
Julian was quiet on the other end. “Very well.”
It was more reasonable of a reaction than Vincent expected, but he knew that Julian was actually probably simmering with rage. He hated being questioned. He'd always been that way, even before he was the top dog of the Black Sun.
“I have a feeling that I know exactly where he'll be going. He needs to return the Scarlet Sword to its proper resting place. There is only one place he can go to make that happen.”
Vincent appreciated that they were slowing down the attack. They had to play this smarter this time, and knowing where Purdue was going to go would be helpful. They would have time to set a trap for him, a proper one and not just an ambush that relied on their superior numbers.
“Where?”
Julian told him all about the origins of the Scarlet Sword and how the Black Sun had retrieved it. He warned him of every possible scenario he might come across and how best to prepare for Purdue's arrival.
When their conversation ended, Vincent had a good feeling about the plan. He might even have a chance to try out the katana he'd been given this time.
“We'll head there now,” Vincent said. “If that's okay with you, of course.”
“It is,” Julian said confidently. “I have a situation here that needs to be handled but then...then I will be heading there myself as well.” Vincent wasn't looking forward to that. He didn't need to see Julian out in the field. Julian offered one last message, and it was very clearly a warning. “Don't fail me again, Vincent. Be smarter about this than your brother was.”
Vincent had never been as strong as his brother. Victor was older, taller, and far tougher than Vincent could ever manage to be. Even from a young age, Victor impressed all of their peers with his athletic prowess. He could run faster and for a longer amount of time than anyone else their age. He could jump higher and farther. And, as they learned as they grew up in a rough neighborhood, he could hit much harder than most other people as well.
Vincent spent most of his life trying to break free of
the enormous shadow his elder brother cast over his life. Everyone expected him to be so similar to Victor and were always left severely disappointed. Vincent had plenty of talents of his own, but they were different things that most people didn't notice at first. They only cared about the things that he couldn't do as well as his brother. While his brother jogged, and leaped, and grappled people with his bare hands; Vincent thought, spoke, and thought of more efficient ways to get an advantage in a fight. He was handy in a street brawl but not in the same way Victor was.
The two brothers grew up proving their mettle. They had to. Their parents were gone, and they were left with an uncle that had debts to collect and people to swindle. Their Uncle Isaac was not a good man at all, and he raised them to be much the same way. Most parents would have cautioned their children against using violence to communicate, but Uncle Isaac encouraged it. He wanted them to express themselves with as much brute force as possible. This made Victor a golden child as he had so much brute force to express. Vincent could handle himself in a fight, but he did so with more subtlety than his brother.
Uncle Isaac never respected the younger brother's style. He didn't like how much he talked to people or how he had this aura about him that made others like him. He wanted someone like Victor, a powerhouse who spoke with his fists much more than he spoke with his words. Uncle Isaac was one of the primary detractors of Vincent growing up, and the one most vocal about how much of a letdown he was when compared to Victor.
As they grew in both age and strength, they helped their uncle more and more with the street operations he had running. He was a small-time crook in the grand scheme of things, but he had quickly gained a reputation for himself thanks to the two enforcers his nephews had become. No one dared to touch him for fear of those two young men.
When the Order of the Black Sun came knocking, looking for recruits, the brothers initially had no desire to join them. They were content with helping their Uncle Isaac and all of his seedy businesses, knowing that without them, he would fall back into being a nobody again. Isaac, especially, understood this and was glad that they wanted to stay by his side.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 10 Page 26
