Lightning

by Dean Koontz

Disoriented by the blazing sky, thunder, wind, and billowing white curtains of the storm, Markwell abruptly felt drunk for the first time that night. He wondered how much of the bizarre electrical phenomenon was real and how much was alcohol-induced hallucination.

“Lightning Road in this case,” Stefan said. “The road through time. The road to the future.”

she at last asked her guardian the question she had wanted to ask him from the moment he had come out of his coma: “Why? Why did you focus on me, on my life, and why did you want to help me along, to save my butt now and then? For God’s sake, how does my fate tie up with Nazis, time travelers, the fate of the world?”

Destiny struggles to reassert the pattern that was meant to be.

In tragedy and despair, when an endless night seems to have fallen, hope can be found in the realization that the companion of night is not another night, that the companion of night is day, that darkness always gives way to light, and that death rules only half of creation, life the other half.

She was granite. She was iron. She was steel. She could not be broken.

“Share the secret?” “I’ve learned the third great lesson, that’s all. As a kid I learned to endure. After Danny was killed, I learned to fight. Now I’m still an endurer and a fighter—but I’ve also learned to accept. Fate is.”