Read Matt Archer: Redemption Online
Authors: Kendra C. Highley
“Other than graduate from West Point, go to medical school and spend your days saving lives?” He raised an eyebrow. “What indeed?”
I stared at the trees. “It’s still not enough.”
“To assuage your guilt? Maybe not. But it will be more than enough for the people you save, and for their families.” Jorge eyed me keenly. “Why did the demons take Mamie, do you suppose?”
“Because she was The Archer. The proxy of all light,” I said. “To set us in motion for the final battle.”
“Killing her would have had the same result, yes?” Jorge asked. “Why take her and keep her alive? That always seemed odd to me. He could’ve ended the war right then, so why not kill her?”
I froze. “He wasn’t going to kill her, was he? ‘My special pet’ he called her.” I got short of breath. “I thought he was taunting me, but he planned to keep her alive.”
“Yes,” Jorge said. “Brent could die. So could you. Mamie could not. Killing her would’ve allowed the Light to rise, to reclaim its rightful place. He wouldn’t survive that. Once he knew who she was, he had to keep her contained—and
safe
. Mamie figured it out in D. C.. I could see it in her eyes the day we interrogated Ann Smythe. She understood that to close the rift, she’d have to let go of this life.”
Sick, I asked, “So, she had the burden of knowing how this would end for her?”
“It was a burden, but not one she would ever shirk.” Jorge gave me a long look. “Matt, did your sister ever do anything morally reprehensible? Anything that could compromise her innocence?”
When I’d insisted that I’d beat the crap out of any guy who touched her, my sister’s response had been that I didn’t have to worry, she was saving herself for something special. Not someone. Some
thing.
Then there was her sweet gullibility. Her kindness, even to strangers. And her anguish over someone else’s pain. No matter what power she revealed to us the last few months, her whole life had been something beautiful.
“No, she never did.”
“Then you can’t blame yourself,” Jorge said. “She prepared herself for her role, much as you prepared for yours. You can’t let it eat your soul. Three parts to one puzzle, each with your own part to play—one to fight, one to guard, one to shine. Mamie’s was to break the cycle of darkness. Yours was to fight off the onslaught. And Brent? His role was to protect her with all he had.”
“Brent was a defensive player on his football team,” I said, as a clammy drop of sweat dripped down my back. “Guarding against an enemy was his life’s work. You should’ve seen him fighting off those demons when they invaded our house. He was amazing. I still wonder why the knife chose me. He would’ve been an incredible wielder.”
“Because you fight for what’s right, Matt,” he said. “You always have. Brent might’ve been suited to guard what was important down to his dying breath, but you were the one who had the drive and patience to hunt down our enemies, to contain the war until Mamie’s time came. You also had the strength to follow through to the end, even when it was hard. That is a rare quality.”
I shuddered. “My uncle said something like that a long time ago. That intense situations gave me strength and focus.”
“Truly.” Jorge reached out to grip my forearm. “Now your part is to live. That’s your burden, so make the most of it. Earn the gift you’ve been given.”
He reached for a paper sack at his feet. “I brought you something.” After laying the parcel on the table next to my chair, he said, “Be whole.”
Jorge disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived. If it weren’t for the paper bag, I might’ve believed the whole conversation was a hallucination to soothe my conscience. When I reached for the bag, though, chills ran down my arms and I knew it was all real. I tore the sack open and pulled Jorge’s gift free.
My knife’s handle flashed blue—the same, familiar bone handle as before. The blade was whole, remade, but not exactly as it had been. The metal had a different cast to it, and it was heavier. I wondered if Jorge had melted down the sword to make it. If so, this wasn’t just my knife—it was all of them.
“Thought you were lost in the cavern,” I said.
We thought you were, too
, all five voices answered, perfect in their harmony. Bought by Mamie’s blood.
I couldn’t decide how I felt about holding it, knowing the price. “I have half a mind to bury you in the yard. You killed my sister. All of you.”
And we wept.
I closed my eyes against yet another round of tears. I thought about the sixteen-year-old Matt who wouldn’t cry at Schmitz’s funeral because he thought it made him look weak.
Boy, was I stupid back then.
“So what now?”
This time, Tink’s voice rose over the others, and the depth of her pain was audible.
We will stay with you. It is what she wanted. We honor her sacrifice, so we will watch over you for your lifetime.
I wiped my eyes, hearing my dad slam the front door. He exchanged hellos with Mom. A silence long enough for a kiss followed, proof that Brent and Mamie had done the impossible. They’d saved the world.
And they’d brought Dad back to us.
“You know, the Dark Master underestimated my brother and sister,” I said. “He didn’t know my family at all, did he?”
But I did.
Four Years Later
“Lieutenant Matthew Jonathan Archer.”
I stood and straightened my cadet uniform jacket. My black shoes shone blinding-bright in the sun as I crossed the stage at Michie stadium. I’d never forget that split second—a moment that would be forever distilled in my brain—when I understood how far I’d come in the last eight years.
General Richardson handed me my diploma—his right as the new Superintendent of West Point. “Well done, Lieutenant. Carry on.”
I saluted. “Thank you, sir.”
He motioned me ‘at ease’ and broke the solemnity for a moment by pulling me into a hug. “Work hard in medical school, but have some fun, too. You’ve earned it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good luck to you, then, Dr. Archer.”
I saluted him again and took my seat. Dr. Archer had a nice ring to it. Maybe in three years I’d deserve that title. We’d have to see what the USUHS medical school taught me first. After all the death I’d seen, saving lives would be an amazing change.
At the end of graduation, my class prepared to take part in an old tradition, and I was lucky that Katie was old enough to participate with me.
Earlier in the day, I’d torn a hundred dollar bill in half. I kept one half and the other went inside the lining of my cadet uniform cap. On that half, I’d written my new address in Bethesda. Children, aged six to ten, waited at the edge of the field, knowing that pretty soon we’d toss our caps in the air, and they’d be allowed to take one.
If the kid who got my hat wrote to me, I’d mail him or her the other half of that hundred dollar bill.
The graduates gathered together, all of us a little shaky with emotion, and on the count of three, threw our caps toward the sky. Little kids scrambled madly to catch them as they came back to earth and all I could do was smile. Mamie would’ve loved this.
After the ceremony, Mom cried all over my uniform. I laughed. “Mom, it’s okay.”
“My baby, all grown up.” She cried harder.
“Dani, save some of those tears for the wedding, would you?” Uncle Mike said. Shaking his head, he squeezed my shoulder. “You find a tux big enough for Will yet?”
“He bought Armani suits for all the groomsmen as part of his wedding gift, so he had his custom tailored.” I said. “He offered to buy me one, too, but I want to wear my dress uniform.”
“
Part
of his wedding gift?” When I nodded, Mike asked, “What’s the rest of it?”
I grinned. “A BMW. Just a 3 class, but I like it.”
Mike barked out a laugh. “Well, I guess the Vikings pay pretty well, on top of the trust fund. Seriously, is there anything he can’t do? All-American first string at USC, first round draft pick, richer than God, former knife wielder. Makes you want to hate the kid, doesn’t it?”
I laughed, too. “Yeah. If he weren’t such an awesome friend, he’d be pretty easy to hate.”
Katie ran up, towing Aunt Julie behind her, and wormed her way in between us. She clutched a cadet cap tight in one hand and her favorite possession in the other. “Pick me up, Matt!”
I scooped her up, always quick to move at her command. “Demanding little critter, aren’t you, Katie-bug?”
She shook her brown curls before give me a big, wet smacker right on the chin. “I wuv you!”
Still having trouble with her L’s and missing a couple of front teeth wasn’t helping her much. But Katie was such a sweetheart, my heart melted straight through. “I wuv you, too. How’s that horse working out for you?”
Katie giggled and held up her stuffed pony. It was half as big as she was and from what I’d heard, she refused to leave the house without it. “He’s good. I fed him some hay so he wouldn’t whinny during your fraduwation.”
“Graduation, honey,” Uncle Mike said.
I grinned at him. “And you thought I meant a
real
pony.”
Aunt Julie kissed my cheek. “All I can say is thank God. The thought of cleaning up after a pony in addition to the twins made my head hurt.”
Said twins—Brent and Toby—proceeded to blow spit bubbles at each other in their stroller. I had a feeling they were showing off for their mom. “Yeah, I can imagine a pair of two-year-olds qualifies as a hazmat event.”
“You have no idea,” Uncle Mike said. “Yesterday, I found a dirty diaper in—”
“And that’s not a story we want you to finish here. Or ever,” Mom said. She nodded at Dad making his way through the crowd. “I wondered where he wandered off to.”
“I’m proud of you, son,” Dad said. Smiling, he shook my hand, then took his place by Mom. She blushed and smacked his arm. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he pinched her ass.
Finally, Ella came, her auburn hair blowing in the breeze. I stared for a moment, enjoying the view. She caught me gawking and rolled her eyes, but smiled too. Some things never changed.
“Hey, beautiful,” I said. “Everything set with the new school?”
“Yes. The principal even showed me my classroom. Teacher prep starts the last week of August.” She twisted her engagement ring around her finger. “Sorry to miss the party last night. You packed?”
“Yeah. Will said he’ll help get us moved. I think that means he’s paying movers to hand-wrap all our crap and carry it to Maryland on the backs of golden llamas,” I said. “Bastard.”
“Well, we have one thing he doesn’t—the summer off. He has to go to training camp.” Ella wound her hands around my neck. “Two weeks from now, we’ll be in Hawaii.”
I kissed her, long and hard, ignoring the catcalls from the cadets milling around. “Wearing as little as humanly possible.”
“Public beaches frown on that kind of thing,” she whispered.
“Not where we’re staying. The general freed up some private house the government owns.” I ran my fingers through her hair. “Giving us a decent honeymoon was the least they could do.”
She kissed me again as a large mass blocked out the sun.
“Break it up, break it up.” Will dropped a two-ton arm around my shoulders. “Dude, I’m starving.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Me, too.”
Will wrapped his other arm around Penn’s waist. He had to stoop to do it and she smacked him in the side. “When haven’t you been starving?”
Ella’s laugh rang out. “Never.”
Bickering while trying to defend our honor as men, we followed my family to the parking lot. It hit me hard then, watching Mike push the twins in their stroller with Katie skipping behind. My whole life was ahead of me, and it looked so bright—bright as a star.
The knife buzzed in my jacket pocket.
And somewhere, Mamie smiled.
-the end-
When I started on this journey, I wasn’t even sure how many books would be in the series. All I had was an idea, a great character, a beginning and an ending. There have been a lot of ups and downs in this process, but a huge number of people have stuck with me the whole way, and I offer them my humblest, heartfelt thanks:
First, you—the readers. From the artwork, the emails, the cheerleading, and the offers of chocolate to the cause, you’ve been the reason I was able to keep going. Matt’s story wasn’t always for the faint of heart, so I thank you, and salute you, for sticking with us both.
Second, the professionals who make the magic happen. My editor, Cassandra Marshall, has done wonders helping shape the final drafts of all five books. My cover design team, Streetlight Graphics, led by Glendon Haddix, has created some of the most hauntingly beautiful covers I could ever ask for. The
Redemption
cover may be my favorite of the lot, but each has been amazing.
Third, my tireless, wonderful crew of crit-partners and beta readers. From those who read early drafts of
Monster Hunter
on OWW, to the readers who read multiple versions of every single book, thank you. I’d especially like to thank J. R. Hochman, Lindsay Buroker, Becca Andre, Arthur Stewart, Crash Froelich, Ladonna Watkins, Elizabeth Hull, Rebecca Smotherman, Jeanne Haskin, Maria McConnaughy, Deanna Stanley, Liz Coley, and my most awesome proofreader, Ryan Highley. You guys are the best. Seriously.
Fourth, to all the experts who’ve helped me with military details. In particular, Captain Jeremiah Parker. The epilogue was for you. And to all the supporters of the Kickstarter campaign to launch
Monster Hunter
as an audiobook. My special thanks go to Amy and Ben Blakeney. (Hmm, wonder where I got that character’s name?)
Finally, my family has stood by me during every mood swing, every absent-minded moment, every frantic rush during launch week, and every good (and bad) review. My children, Tanner and Alexandra, have grown from elementary school kids to young adults during this process, and I’m so proud of their good hearts and their love for all things geek. My father gave me my start. Without him, Matt never would’ve made it past the first book. My sister, who I love as much as Matt loves Mamie, has been Matt’s number one marketer since before the first book even came out.