~1968~

It was mid September and the city of Chicago was still talking about the riots that happened during the Democratic National Convention. But Father Martin Andrews never cared about politics all that much. No he was more concerned about saving the souls of those involved on both sides of those riots. Father Andrews found himself in a unique position. Just about everyone in his immediate family backed the war in Vietnam. But he found himself siding with his fellow twenty years olds about how pointless this war actually was. His older brother Steve was the only one who didn't give him any grief over it. He had served in the Korean War the decade prior and had no wish to see another one. He saw no need on driving the current generation of young men to an early grave either.

Which was why he felt some confusion when Steve insisted he met one of his old war buddies. So he humored him, thinking he could pass the time away as they talked about some old stories they shared. Their dad and his old WW2 buddies did it all the time. Except for this one individual that kept trying to tell them not to glamorize the war in front of the kids. They called him names but they still remained friends. Intending to go over the sermon he planned for this coming Sunday in his head he entered the restaurant and quickly found Steve, It wasn't hard he waved him over as soon as he entered, "Marty over here."

"I see you Steve," he said as patiently as he could. He may have been a reverend now but his older brother could still push his buttons, like the fact he insisted on being called Martin since Marty was so juvenile in his eyes.

"Another coffee," Steve told the passing waitress, "Black, no sugar." Well at least he still ordered the coffee the way he preferred it. Coming over he saw Steve with a man that was younger than he was expecting. "Marty this is Matt Hawkins. This was my best bud back in Korea."

The dark hair man stood up and offered a hand that Martin quickly accepted. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Steve wouldn't shut up about you back in Korea."

"Hey my little brother had the ability to be the first in our family to do some actual good in the world," Steve said. "Who wouldn't be proud of that?"

"I just became a priest Steve," Martin said blushing a bit. "I'm just a simple man trying to help spread God's word to those who are willing to listen."

"Personally I think this world could use a few more priest and few less soldiers," Matt said as he took a sip of his coffee. Steve grunted in agreement. Martin studied Matt. There was something about him that seemed off. Part of Martin was wondering his Steve was pulling his legs or something. They caught him staring and he quickly apologized for his lack of manners. "I get it all the time," Matt simply said not showing a hint if he was offended or not.

"The company always said Matt was blessed with young looks," Steve joked. "We also called him one of the luckiest SOBs on the planet. Nobody can remember him even getting a scratch back then." Martin watched as Matt shook his head and laughed. Yes the man before him looked young. But there was something about his demeanor and in his eyes that made him look much, much older. At first Martin put it down to the Korean War. Lord only knew Steve looked like something inside him aged a bit when he got home. But this was different, like the individual sitting with them had been in more than his fair share of wars. Then there was his voice, to Martin it sounded like he had an accent that was lost. He almost reminded him of his grandfather who lost his accent decades ago according to his mother.

It wasn't long before Steve was telling him a couple of stories about how Matt saved his life several times. Including one where he would swear on a stack of bible he saw Matt get shot dead in his tracks. Matt looked a little uncomfortable talking about that one and quickly changed the subject, "So Steve tells me you the reverend at the local church. That's quite an accomplishment at such a young age."

"Well when Father Johnson passed away suddenly and I had to fill in. The church decided to give me a chance to lead on a regular basis. Even if some of my views are somewhat unpopular."

"They're a little anti war I gather," Matt said.

"More like pro anything that doesn't get anybody killed," Steve answered for him. "Despite some of the protest he still packs him in." Dinner went well as Steve and Matt caught up with each other. Matt even asked about some of the stories Steve told him about Martin. Of course he chose some of the more embarrassing stories he could think of to tell his buddy. They said goodnight and Martin went home to get some sleep while Steve decided to show Matt one of his favorite bars downtown.

Martin thought that would be the only time he would ever see this Matt person. But to his surprise he saw Steve and Matt in the fourth row of his church that Sunday. Steve looked a little hung over but he gave him a thumbs up. Afterwards he met up with them, "What are you two doing here?"

"I never miss one of my little brother's sermons," Steve said. "Besides after all the talking up of you I did Matt wanted to see you at work."

"I have to say," he said, "what I said the other day is even more true, this world does need more priests like you in it and less soldiers."

"I'm just doing what the Lords wants of me," Martin said. "Any other man would be doing the same as me."

Matt looked like he was going to say something but stopped. He had this weird look in his eyes then looked around a bit. Distracted he said, "You're a better man than I am Father. I hate to run off but I have… to be somewhere soon." He left them without another word.

"What was that about?" Martin asked.

"I'm not sure," Steve answered. "He did the same thing back in Korea a couple of times too. He would get that look and disappears for a while. Then he'd be back like nothing had happened." After talking for a few more minutes Steve started looking up at the sky. When Martin asked what was wrong he said, "The times Matt did that there was usually a freak lightning storm, it didn't last long but it always caught us off guard. I'm just trying to see the clouds coming this time."

A few days later Martin was carrying some groceries home, he had to admit it was more than he could carry but tried to do so any way, when Matt caught up with him. Taking a couple of the bags he said, "Let me help you Father."

"Bless you my son," he said out of habit. But he was grateful for the assistance. "I'm afraid it's been awhile since I shopped for some food."

"I've been guilty of the same thing myself," he said.

"So what are you still doing around?", Martin asked. "Steve gave me the impression that you were only going to be here for a couple of days, a week at the most."

"That was the plan," Matt said. "But I got to walking around the city and decided to stay. Besides it was time for me to move on anyway. I only stay in one place a few years at time."

"That's a very strange life for somebody to lead," Martin commented. "It would be hard to make any sort of connection in that period of time."

"I'm a little nomadic at heart," he said. "Sometimes I stay in one area longer than I usually plan to but it's always temporary. Besides they say home is where you hang your hat."

"Don't you get lonely being on the move all the time?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But I have a few friends that are the same way." He stopped in his tracks and got that same weird look in his eyes before he looked around. This time he found something and Martin saw it too. A mean, almost gangster, looking individual staring right at them. Matt said something in a language he didn't recognize, then dropped the bags he was carrying and pushed Martin into an nearby alley, dropping his bags as well. All he said was, "Run!"

"I got you now McAllister!" the man yelled as he gave chase. Martin, despite his fear, wondered who this McAllister was that Matt was obviously being mistaken for. The alley turned out to be a dead end very quickly as they spilled into an open area with no route to continue. The gangster quickly caught up with them and Matt looked trapped. "No where to run McAllister," he said. "I've been waiting for this ever since Korea. Ever since you killed Soonji." Martin stared at him Matt when he realized he wasn't denying anything.

"She challenged me Rodger," he said. Martin looked at the man he knew, that old look he had was replaced with something else, something dangerous. "That how the Game works, you know that. I didn't want to fight her but she wouldn't let it go."

"Doesn't matter now," Rodger pulled a revolver out of his coat and shot Matt in the middle of the chest. Martin was horrified as he heard him gurgle and die. Despite of what this man might have done Martin dropped to his knees and started praying for him. He looked up and saw Rodger come closer with a machete in his hands saying, "There can be only one."

"What are you doing!?", Martin demanded.

"This doesn't concern you," Rodger said pushing him away. Holding the edge of the blade by Matt's neck he raised it over his head.

"Stop!", Martin grabbed his arm and tried to stop him. He didn't care about what Matt may have done. He didn't even care that Rodger still had a gun on him. But he would not stand by and let some sadist desecrate a corpse. "This is inhuman!"

"I told you this doesn't concern you!" Rodger tried to resist the priest but Martin kept a death gripe on the other mans arms. "Let me go you bastard before he wakes up!" Now Martin was convinced this person was sick in the head. He couldn't hear anything outside of his own heartbeat pounding in his head. Rodger got an arm free and socked Martin in the mouth. He dropped like a bag of bricks to the ground. "Fine you want to die too. I'm happy to oblige." Martin was too scared to even pray, his eyes only on the glint coming off the machete. It came down at him and he squeezed his eyes shut not wanting to see it coming. There was metallic sounding ping and then nothing else happened. Martin opened his eyes and his heart stopped as he saw Matt blocking the machete with a long sword. Rodger looked disgusted as he stared dagger at the resurrected man.

"Shooting a guy dead and trying to take his head is one thing," Matt said. "But attacking priest, now that's just low." Rodger yelled as he tried attacking him with the machete. Matt easily blocked each strike at him, trying to take the fight away from Martin. From where he was Martin saw Rodger go for the gun again. Matt saw it too. In a sickening move Matt cut the hand with the gun clean off the wrist. Rodger dropped to his knees holding the bloody stump with his other hand and Matt stood beside him. Without any hesitation Matt beheaded the man with one stroke.

Martin looked on horrified at what he was seeing. But nothing prepared him for what happened next. Matt screamed at the top of his lungs as it looked like God himself was smiting him with lightning for what he had done. It took a moment for him to realize the lightning was coming from the headless body at Matt's feet. After it was over Matt fell to his knees and looked at Martin. He didn't take the time to decipher what was in the man eyes as he ran out of the alley as fast as he could. He passed a blond hair youth who saw them enter the alley a few moments prior. If he stayed around he would have saw him watch Matt come out from the alley from a distance and study him intently. An English accent saying, "McAllister huh? I know a McAllister, this could be interesting. When the time is right that is."

It was another few weeks before Martin saw Matt again. For the first time he wasn't sure how to act around somebody. He always considered himself a pretty good judge of a person's character but this took him by total surprise. Neither of them said anything for the longest time. "Who are you?", Martin asked breaking the uncomfortable silence. "What are you?"

Rubbing the back of his neck he said, "I'm immortal."

"Are you kidding me?" he said without thinking. After what he saw weeks ago he shouldn't have been surprised he said something like that.

Without another word he pulled a knife out of his pocket. For a brief second Martin was afraid for his life. Then Matt put it to the back of his hand and cut deep. Despite everything saw this man do his first instinct was to help him. But he held up his other hand to keep him at. Martin was sure his eye was playing tricks on him but it looked like lighting was dancing around the cut in his hand for a few seconds. The next instant Matt wiped the blood out of the way and showed him the hand. There was no sign of a cut. Martin dropped into a pew in total shock. Matt, or whoever this was sat in the one across the aisle. A hint of an Irish accent edged his voice as he said, "My real name is Owen McAllister and I was born in the year sixteen fifty-eight."

"Why?", Martin stammered out, "why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm pretty sure I owe you my life," he said his voice returning to normal. He rubbed the front of his neck slightly before continuing. "And I didn't want you to think I was a monster of some sort. And trust me I know the look, I've seen it enough times."

"You took a man's head and…," he could come up with the words to describe what eh had seen. "What was that all about? Who was that man?"

"Rodger was somebody I met back in Korea. We weren't exactly friends but we weren't enemies either. He had a Korean girl friend who recently became immortal at the time. I was on guard duty one night and she tried to attack me by surprise. I tried to talk her out of it but…," he trailed off. "I was trying to scare her. I got the feeling that Rodger glorified the Game to her or something, making it to be something it's not. I was going to come short of taking her head, but she moved when I wasn't expecting it." Martin wasn't sure what to expect but deep down he was positive of one thing. No matter how old a person may be there was no way they could fake the regret he was seeing in this man eyes. "I tried to explain what happened but he wouldn't listen."

"That's twice you said something about a Game. What game?" With some reluctance the other man told him everything. How immortal fight each other to win the prize that nobody what it was. About the Quickening, the lightning he saw, he absorbed and it's purpose. And some of the rules that went along with it. Martin sat there in stunned silence. Then he looked the other man in the eyes. "Why do you do it?", he finally asked. "If you have no idea what it is why risk everything to win it."

"I only fight unless I have no other choice," he said. "But there are some out there, they don't care, they just want to win. In my world it's kill or be killed. You can hide on holy ground but eventually it finds you." Not sure what else to say he got up and left. Martin thought it over and stood up.

"Matt… Owen," the other man stopped and looked at him. "Do you have similar regrets like that one?"

"I've made more than my fair share of mistakes."

"If you ever feel the need to confess those regrets my ear is always open."

Smiling a bit he said, "Thank you father. Like I said you are a better man than I am."

"My job is to save souls Owen, even those as old as yours. Maybe one day you can call me friend."

"I hope I will be able to as well." Thinking things over a bit he said, "I'll see you around Father."

"Thank you for being honest with me."

"I could never lie to a priest," he said. "My mother and Father taught me better than that." He left the church and left Father Andrew alone. He didn't know it at the time but that moment would be the start of friendship both men would treasure fort he rest of his life. And one Owen would always be grateful for.