Time of Fate (Wealth of Time Series #6) by Andre Gonzalez (books on motivation .txt) 📕

“For all the powers you get as the Keeper of Time,” Chris continued, forced strength clinging to each word, “You have no way of knowing how your life will end. You can jump into the future, free-falling through darkness like a stray astronaut, but we don’t know if that means life or the world has ended. All I know is that my people will always put up a fight.”

“You’re wrong,” Martin said. “Time travelers are good people. You’re the one who has corrupted them. We will all live in a world of peace and collaboration, just like it was intended to be. There is no more room for your grim vision of the future; it’s dying with you.”

Chris tried to laugh, but it came out more like a choking sound. “Humans will always gravitate toward power, Martin… don’t you know? Power is everything, and without it, you are nothing.”

“Only for you. Humans are decent. They may fall into traps, but they can always find the right path. Your death will forever be viewed as the end of a dark era, one where everyone will rise from the ashes.”

“Was this all worth it, Martin? Losing your mother, your daughter, Sonya… your life? All that just to kill me.”

Martin pulled the trigger, blasting a slug through the center of Chris’s forehead. “Yes, it was worth it,” he said to the dead body. Chris’s eyes gazed at the stars above, glossed over with death, his lips parted to deliver one final remark that would now remain trapped in his throat forever.

Martin emptied the rest of the bullets into Chris’s head and torso, the dead body twitching as it absorbed each hit. After the echoes of gunshots faded away, the world returned to its blissful silence, Martin collapsing next to Chris as he broke into heavy sobs.

He had just saved the world from itself, but all he wanted was his old life back.

Chapter 29

Martin had to sit next to Chris’s dead body for the next hour. He tried his cell phone, but as expected, it had no service to place a call to Steffan, leaving him to wait out the clock. He didn’t touch Chris, watching as his face turned a light shade of gray, eyes still gazing lifelessly to the sky above, lips parted half an inch. He sat on the ground, back against a tree trunk, unable to help but grin at the sight of Chris Speidel’s body lying in the snow three feet in front of him, pride brimming at the fact that the deed had been done by him.

While the world remained frozen, oblivious to what had just happened, Martin Briar was the only person to cherish this special moment, witnessing and participating in a historic moment that would forever live as one of the most important days for the Road Runners.

When time finally resumed, the cold weather rushed over Martin in the form of a whipping breeze. Frozen time had caused wind to stop, making his journey through the woods much more bearable, the air still and not quite feeling like the ten-degree temperature when they had arrived. He looked up to see a lone cloud swimming across the sky and wondered what the team was up to. They had no way of knowing when time was frozen, and would be resuming their conversations they hadn’t realized stopped. Arielle would be on her way from the car, hopefully arriving within thirty minutes, as he had done.

A weight had been lifted, knowing the only person who wanted not just Martin, but all Road Runners dead, lay on the ground, now a frozen popsicle. Plenty of work remained, both in the immediate future of handling this corpse, but also long-term, as they needed to lay out what a peaceful world for the Road Runners looked like now that they no longer had a threat hovering above them.

Martin laughed, a combination of exhaustion and giddiness, still trying to comprehend the entire mission that had finally reached its conclusion. A smile remained stuck on his face, a sense of relief blanketing over him thanks to the closure he had received with Izzy. Even if it was only her spirit, she helped save his life. And the world.

He passed the time thinking back on the long ride it had been to arrive to this point, still in awe at how every event that happened within the Road Runners had been a gentle shove in this direction. His escaping the mansion in Barrow had started a chain of events that spun well out of his control. He had only been running for his life, aware of who Chris truly was, and needing to get as far away as possible.

The sound of wood snapping in the distance echoed around him, prompting Martin to jump to his feet. “Arielle?!” he shouted.

“Commander Briar!” a woman’s voice shouted back, flooding Martin with relief as his wait was finally coming to a close. “I’m almost there, hang tight!”

Martin spun around, looking for Arielle, but not spotting her in the massiveness of the woods. Two minutes later, hurried footsteps approached, crunching through the snow until Arielle appeared from the south, gasping for breath as she crouched down in her bundled up attire of a puffy, bright yellow jacket and ski pants. Her eyes fell to Chris on the ground before meeting Martin, a childish smile spreading across her face.

“Oh my God, Commander Briar,” she gasped. “Is that really him? Are you okay? There is blood all over you.” Her eyes moved from Chris to Martin’s blood-soaked shoulder.

Martin nodded, returning a grin of his own. “He’s as dead as the dinosaurs—never coming back. And yes, I’m fine, just a little scratch.”

Arielle took careful steps toward Chris, as if the dead body could still somehow reach up and snatch her ankles. She stood next to Martin, gaze stuck on Chris, jaw hanging open as she shook her head. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”

Martin moved his