Epilogue
It had been a month since Jackson had spoken to Thomas. His friend had told him his trial was to be in two weeks’ time. But thirty days had come and gone and still here he sat. None of the prison guards would give him any indication of what was going on. He desperately wished to see Thomas or Sophia. Even Olivia or John Foster would be a welcome sight in this dank prison. Elliot had had plenty of time to think about Thomas’ words since his friend walked out a month ago. The faces of the three women he’d killed haunted his nightmares. But every time his guilt over his actions threatened to overwhelm him, the beautiful face of his Sophia—his wife Sophia—came to his rescue. Visions of her filled his thoughts. He spent every waking moment wondering how she was, what she was doing, what she was thinking and feeling. He knew that he’d never see her again, but still he wondered. But what tormented Elliot most were Thomas’ last words about his father. Edward Hill had practically raised him, and he certainly hadn’t raised Jackson to be a killer. Did it matter that Jackson had done what he’d done in order to save the man’s daughter? Edward would not have seen it that way, he was sure. Jackson was no longer as confident in his actions as he’d been just a month ago. He wondered, if he could do it all again, if he could turn back time, would he make a different choice? He couldn’t say for sure.
Unlike the other prisoners, who were cramped together in tiny cells, practically sleeping and going to the bathroom on top of each other, Jackson was given a cell to himself. Again, the guards could offer no explanation as to why he was being treated differently. ‘You must have a friend in high places,’ offered one of the guards when he’d come to deliver Jackson’s evening meal and Jackson had pressed him on the issue. But more than that the man wouldn’t say. What ‘friend’ the man could have been referring to, Jackson had no idea. At first, this special treatment caused problems amongst the other prisoners, who continually harassed him from their own cells. But then several of the prisoners recognized him as the doctor who volunteered on Tuesdays at St. Theresa’s, a clinic that nearly all of them, or at least a member of their family, had visited at one point or another. After that, the prisoners took turns peppering him with a myriad of medical questions: could he do anything about this gout, could he fix a broken toe, what should they do for whooping cough. The list went on and on. He offered advice as best he could, but most of them simply needed medicine, a luxury that was woefully unavailable in the squalid environment.
Jackson looked up from his book as heard steady footsteps coming down the hall. The murmurings of his fellow prisoners preceded the visitor’s arrival. He was used to catcalls, threats, insults, or challenges being thrown at the visitors or at the guards, but these sounds were different. These were whispers of awe. Curiosity piqued, Jackson waited, hoping to see what was causing such a fuss among his fellow inmates. Jackson had no family. All of his friends had understandably deserted him. So he had no illusions that the visitor was headed to his cell, but he wanted to see what the commotion was about nonetheless. He was, therefore, justifiably surprised when the visitor stopped in front of his cell door and turned to face the once-promising young surgeon. His surprise turned to shock when he realized that the visitor was none other than Archimedes Tesla himself.
“Good evening, Dr. Elliot. My name is Archimedes Tesla. A pleasure to finally meet you.” Tesla extended his hand through the bars.
Jackson rose from his cot, trying to force his brain to come up with a rational explanation as to why the most powerful man in all of London was standing outside of his cell in Coldbath Fields prison. Nothing came to mind. Hesitantly, Elliot took the offered hand and shook it, noting how calloused it felt in comparison to his own. Though the man standing across from him couldn’t be younger than seventy, his grip was like iron. Archimedes stared directly into Jackson's eyes, and the younger man felt a familiarity with the ancient scientist, a sort of shared madness, that made him shudder. He too was a man driven by passions that ordinary people simply didn’t understand, passions that would be sated, or bring insanity in the striving. Jackson shuddered and stepped back.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Tesla?” he asked at last.
“I’m certain that a man of your talents could do a great many things for me and my organization. You see, the mechanic’s guild is filled with brilliant minds. Talented men who would do almost anything to see their marvelous creations come to life. Almost anything. But very few of them, I fear, would go to the lengths in which you have gone. Very few would suffer what you have suffered.”
“Suffer,” Jackson said the word back to the man. “I’ve not suffered. I’ve only caused suffering.”
“Ah, but you have suffered, and you suffer still. I can see it. It is not easy to take a life, Dr. Elliot. I have taken many myself. I know how it haunts you. I understand the sleepless nights, the voices, the constant weight that you now carry. Lesser men will not understand it. They cannot share our burden.”
The words were agony to Jackson. How could this man be so callous? They had nothing in common. Jackson still wondered if he’d made the right decision. Wouldn’t it be better if he could take it all back? Wouldn’t it be better to let Sophia slip quietly into the next life and then to follow her one day? Who was he to try and play God? He had no right. And in the end, he had lost her just the same.
“But I did not come here to commiserate, Dr. Elliot,” said Tesla, breaking the doctor out of his musings.
“Stop calling me that!” Jackson interrupted. “I’m no doctor. They stripped me of that title when they threw me in here. No, that’s not true. I stripped myself when I lured those innocent women to their dooms.”
“Oh dear,” said Tesla. “You are dramatic, aren’t you? I rather expected you to be a more pragmatic man, given the reason you find yourself here.”
“What do you mean?” Jackson asked, in spite of himself.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Archimedes said. “You are the ultimate pragmatist, the ultimate problem solver. You have solved man’s primary dilemma—the puzzle of death. Men have been trying to unravel that mystery since the beginning of time, Elliot. And you, alone, have found a solution to the problem. Bravo.” Tesla clapped his hands, as if he were giving Jackson a standing ovation.
Elliot clenched his fists and grimaced, as if Tesla’s words were causing him physical pain.
“Don’t you understand?” Elliot replied. “I haven’t solved anything. I had to cause death in order to stop it. So, in truth, rather than solving a problem, I only created three more.”
“That is one way to look at it. But think of how many lives your ingenious invention may save, Dr. Elliot. Aren’t the lives of a few prostitutes worth all of the lives of great men and women that will be saved in the future?”
“I said stop calling me that,” Elliot responded. “I’m no doctor.”
“Which brings me to why I’m here,” said Tesla. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope, passed it through the bars to Jackson.
“What’s this?” asked Jackson, eyeing the envelope warily.
“Open it,” replied the old man. “It’s not a bomb, for goodness’ sake.”
Jackson broke the seal and pulled out a single sheaf of paper. His eyes quickly scanned the page, and his mouth dropped open. He read it once through again, this time out loud.
“To whom it may concern. On this date, the 1st of June, year of our Lord, 1887, the London Board of Medicine, by and through the authority of the crown of the British Empire, do hereby find and decree that Jackson Elliot has been granted a license to practice medicine in the country of England and all of its colonies and territories and has been granted all rights, privileges, and responsibilities thereof.
“What is the meaning of this?” barked Jackson.
“The document speaks for itself, Dr. Elliot,” said Tesla.
“Why would they do this?” Jackson hissed.
“Because your country needs you. We stand on the brink of war with America, Dr. Elli
ot. Your invention will be our saving grace. Imagine … an army of soldiers with metal hearts at our command, charging headlong against our adversaries’ defenses. Bullets don’t stop them. Bayonets, explosions, fire, mustard gas. Nothing stops them. The empire will be invincible.”
“This is madness,” Elliot said through gritted teeth.
“This is the future,” replied Tesla.
“So I come to work for you and I go free, medical license restored, is that it?”
“More or less.”
“I cannot. I will not,” said Jackson, crumpling the paper and throwing it back at Archimedes, who let it bounce off his face and fall to the ground.
“I was afraid you would not see reason, Dr. Elliot.” Tesla turned and looked down the hall, putting two fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly. All of a sudden, a cacophony of screams and jeers began to issue forth from the prison cells closest to the end of the hall. Jackson craned his neck to see what was coming. Now he heard scraping and scuffling coming toward him, the sounds of struggle and, presently, muffled shouts. Finally, three figures came into view, two burly prison guards dragging a bound and gagged Sophia between them, who was fighting the pair with all her strength. Her eyes widened, and she stopped her struggle when she laid eyes on Jackson. They halted next to Mr. Tesla.
Archimedes Tesla sighed and reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver metallic pistol. He looked down it affectionately, as if it were an old lover. The elderly man reached into another pocket and retrieved a small black gemstone—obsidian. He popped open a chamber on top of the pistol and dropped in the crystal. The gun immediately started humming, faintly glowing from within.
“If you do not acquiesce to my request, Dr. Elliot,” the old scientist said as he levelled the pistol at Sophia’s head, “then all your hard work was in vain.”
The End
Acknowledgments
First and foremost we give glory to God for His unwavering love and mercy. Thank you to everyone who was willing to Beta this book and take a chance on us. Thank you to Jessica, Candace, Jamie, Angie, Megan and many others who have helped us stay on track and cheered us on. We truly, truly appreciate it. And thank you to the readers. Without you all we couldn't do what we love or give you stories and characters to love. So thank you from our family to yours.
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Quinn Loftis
Quinn Loftis Books LLC
www.quinnloftisbooks.com
@AuthQuinnLoftis
About the Authors
Bo Loftis is an attorney turned novelist who recently penned his debut novel, The Alloy Heart, with his USA Today Bestselling author wife, Quinn Loftis. Bo lives in the Arkansas River Valley, where he deftly toes the line between gamer and jock, splitting his time between gaming (both board and video) and playing basketball, mountain biking, and acting as a color commentator for local high school football games. He has three sons, each of which love to use him as their own person jungle gym, and he wouldn’t trade them for the world.
* * *
Quinn Loftis is a multi-award winning author of 20 novels, including the USA Today Bestseller, Fate and Fury. Once upon a time, she was a nurse, but God had other things in store for her. In 2011 Quinn published her first novel, Prince of Wolves, and the rest, as they say, is history. She gives all glory to God for her success because He is the one who made her. She is blessed to be married to her best friend for over 17 years and they have three boys, two dogs and a cat that wants to take over the world.
Connect with Quinn
www.quinnloftisbooks.com
[email protected] Quinn’s Bookshelf
More Titles by Quinn Loftis
http://www.quinnloftisbooks.com
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The Grey Wolves Series:
Prince of Wolves
Blood Rites
Just One Drop
Out of the Dark
Beyond the Veil
Fate and Fury
Sacrifice of Love
Luna of Mine
Piercing Silence (Novella)
Den of Sorrows
The Burning Claw
Resounding Silence (Novella)
* * *
Gypsy Healer Series:
Into the Fae
Wolf of Stone
Jewel of Darkness
Wolves of Wrath
(Coming January 2018)
* * *
The Elfin Series:
Elfin
Rapture
Surrender
Queen of the Warlocks
(Coming 2018)
* * *
The Dream Makers Series:
Dream of Me
Dream so Dark (Coming November 7, 2017)
* * *
Stand Alone Novels:
Call Me Crazy
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Quinn and Bo Loftis Novels:
The Alloy Heart
Quinn Loftis, The Alloy Heart
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