The New Magic - The Revelation of Jonah McAllister - Landon Wark (bill gates best books TXT) 📗

would overwhelm him and so the thought was largely ignored as he approached, step after step. The front door yawned open, a sign of relief. It had not yet burned off its hinges. Someone must have gotten out.

They must have.

Something else caught his eye, a sight that knocked the wind clean out of him. A more manageable thought than that of the others trapped inside that blaze, but also one that he would have to deal with.

The cabin, his sanctuary, his research, was burning.

He swallowed harshly, running towards it without thought.

“Jonah!” Sandy yelled.

“Check the house,” he called back, turning at a run to look at her. “But don’t go inside.”

Ahead of him where a pair of police cruisers . Partially hidden in the shade of some of the denser trees ringing the house, they had missed them upon first approach. Jonah slowed, seeing a pair of figures lying in wait inside.

Long trails of blood dripping down the word "Sheriff" emblazoned on along the side in a grisly river made him stop. The figures sitting in the driver and passenger seats made no move and as the fire flared behind him he could see the head of one leaning against the partially rolled down window. Dark streaks flowed down the window and onto the side of the door below his head.

"Holy shit..." Jonah exhaled before his attention snapped back towards his goal.

The cabin loomed up before him. It was not as far gone as the main house, but another minute or so and the whole thing would be a lost cause. His body slammed into the door, barely pausing to turn the knob. The inside was alight with small fires, creeping in from the outside. He looked up to see fiery holes eating their way through the roof and knew it would not be long before the whole thing came down.

He scrambled for the spot where a stack of blue notebooks ought to have been, but found nothing. The same was true for a second stack, but a pair of them in the corner told him that whoever had rummaged through his possessions had not completed their task.

The thought of it caused his fingers to curl and his brain to race for a moment before it refocused on the urgent task.

Pulling the books from their place he flung them out of the door.

A beam crashed through the roof about five feet away, sending a shower of sparks through the cabin and igniting some of the carpet and the drapes on the far window. The heat caused sweat to pour down the sides of his face and his heart to beat rapidly as he grasped the dial on the safe in the corner of the room.

The black notebook. It was too important to leave it to chance. If the book was destroyed he would have lost a large chunk of his research. If it survived and was found by someone who didn’t know what it was…

He had just pulled the door open when a force grasped him and hurled him face first into the wall. A loud whistle erupted through his head, accompanied by a sharp splinter of pain. The world spun for an instant and the heat grew dull. The same force grasped him by his neck and spun him where he stood. Eyes glared into his, surrounded by thick red scars and full of rage that would have bowled him over if he had not been backed against the wall and knocked the air out of his lungs had he been able to breathe.

His mind reeled for an instant. The giant hand tightened around his neck and for a moment he was certain it had crushed his trachea.

“McAllister,” the giant hissed, leaning his burned face in so close he could smell the lymph leaking from the flesh around the scars.

Jonah’s eyes bulged, though whether it was from surprise or asphyxiation he would not know even if he had been able to think.

His hand grappled around the wrist that held him, desperate for a breath that would allow him to speak, to release a word that would save him. After a moment he was desperate for a word that would allow him to breathe.

The corner of the room collapsed, allowing a thin glimmer of the outside through the ruined wall.

“Payback,” the huge man croaked over the destruction around them.

A thin stream of fire snaked it way up the carpet on the floor and the giant’s eyes turned away from a brief second. Jonah struck out with his foot, striking what felt like a slab of granite in the huge figure's abdomen. His fist came down with all the strength he possessed, but it was like pounding on an iron bar, there was no give.

Fire crept up the wall beside him, a wave that inched and swelled its way along to where the arm held him against the wall. His vision began to dim and the blood squirted through the veins in his ears until the sound of it mingled with the crackling of the fire. He could smell the cinders and the drywall. There was one last surge against the powerful muscles that held him in place and then he collapsed, near exhaustion.

“Jonah?” he heard the voice through the roar of the fire and with it the shape of Sandy filled the doorframe. Her hand went to her mouth as the surprise of the scene overcame her.

She took a single step forward and he could see the anger in her eyes, the knowledge that she would march into the fire without worry if she thought he was in danger.

The giant growled at her and there was uncertainty. She would do (almost) anything for him, but there was no idea what that anything was. He had taught her well, but taught her only how to