Outlaws (The Slingers Trilogy, Book 2)

Epilogue

Morticia was looking over the three Dorado Pieces. Their ancient hieroglyphs and golden chrome shine filled the room with a glow. 3 of the 7 Pieces were now in her grasp. She was even closer than before. The Tablet showed that only 4 more remained, and now with these new forms of evidence, she could now decipher so much more of the ancient language that the Markers used to speak to the people of the future. With these Pieces, she could seize control of the universe. She had often contemplated what ultimate power felt like. Would she become a god, or remain a human, but with godlike powers? In either case, she could do whatever she wanted, and would become the most powerful force in all of history. Of course, it had been more difficult when the Wavery boy had lied to her about the scroll. But it was of no concern. She could still do it, but it would just take more time. And as she looked at the ancient artifacts, she knew for a fact, that time was most definitely on her side.

He sat in a dingy bar, where the collective scum and mold that grew over the universe came to gather and grow even more. He was trying to process everything that had happened to him. His entire life had turned out to be a lie. The world he once knew to be real had been revealed to be just a shade to pull over his eyes, to disguise the fact that he was just a glorified weapon, with no other purpose than to kill. But, there was something else now. Something that had changed everything. The Hurting had gone away. Not stopped temporarily like before, but had gone away entirely. He looked back on that day at the dump, where he felt it surge back in his head like a wound reopening, then, as soon as it had reappeared, it was gone. He had looked up, opening his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck. The Hurting was gone. Every bit of him that had felt it was calm. He could somehow tell, like a dog could sense an earthquake. It was over. He felt his mind trying to think of a word to describe this feeling, something that could perfectly explain everything. As the bartender walked up to him, he spoke. "So pal, what'll it be?" Then, the word came to him. "Freedom." The bartender looked confused. "Sorry?" He looked at the bartender and shook his head. As the bartender shrugged and walked away, he repeated it to himself, silently. Freedom.

END OF BOOK 2