Puzzle Master Book 3: Missing Pieces by T.J. McKenna - HTML preview

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Chapter Thirty

 

The light from the map continues to glow behind me.

“I believe it’s now been about six minutes, Henry, and I feel fine. Are you ready to believe in miracles now?” I ask.

“How is it possible?” he asks. “You should be dead.”

“My father never conspired to commit mass murder. When he wrote ‘distribute it through the water’ in his notebook, he was referring to the vaccine - not the toxin. Four hid the vaccine in spring water and has had over a decade to take it all over the world, and give it to the faithful.”

“But the toxin dose I gave to you was five times what we’ve been giving through the air or water. I was enough to kill even someone who’s vaccinated. We tested it.”

“That’s true for someone who took your ‘Mark of the Beast’ vaccine; but the extra bit of DNA you put in there as a family legacy makes the vaccine less efficient. Go ahead and release your toxin if you like. It’s nothing more than dust.”

For a moment, Henry is stunned beyond speech, but regains his composure.

“Perhaps martyrdom will become you after all,” he says.

He nods to the guards.

“You two. Nothing fancy is necessary. Just shoot him in the head.”

I remain standing as solid as a cross. The guards don’t draw their guns. They don’t even move.

Please, Lord. Let their empty hearts be filled with Your love.

“What are you waiting for?” Henry asks.

They still don’t move. It’s as if they can’t see or hear us.

Henry approaches the nearest guard and draws the stunner from the man’s belt himself. Even on its lowest setting, a point-blank shot to the head will generally kill. In my weakened state, there’s no doubt about the outcome. He raises the gun, but his hand is shaking.

“You’ve killed millions; but this is the first time it’s actually your finger pulling the trigger, isn’t it Henry? Christ taught me that death is supposed to be personal, and I suspect right now, you’re feeling just how right He is.”

His shaking intensifies.

“May I have a moment to pray for your soul, Henry? Jesus commanded us to love one another. He even loved the men who nailed Him to a cross. So before you do this, I need to tell you that Jesus loves you Henry - and so do I.”

He can no longer aim the gun, and lowers it to his knees.

“If God’s purpose for me and my family was to destroy religion, then what was your purpose?” Henry asks.

I was sent to open hearts and stir souls, which is all it takes to destroy your religion, Henry.”

I instantly regret my words and my tone, as I see Henry’s heart harden.

“You’re wrong, Cephas. There’s no going back,” Henry says. “People won’t live without enhancements. They want sex and drugs, and to be told by the government who they are and what to do with their lives. They love all the things you call sin, and don’t want to stop doing them.”

“That’s been true since before God walked among us,” I reply. “He gave us free will, and allows us to choose our own paths. But now that the world’s eyes have been reopened to their choices and His love, I think you’ll be surprised by how many will choose to live His way.”

His hand has steadied somewhat, and he raises the gun again.

“Without you, they’ll be back to their videos tomorrow,” Henry says.

A loud shot rings out from across the room. Henry’s right wrist explodes with blood and the stunner flies from his hand. For a moment, he stares at his bloody wrist. I don’t think he’s ever seen his own blood, or felt intense pain, before now.

Across the room is my beautiful Martha, holding the ancient pistol Henry sent back in time to kill me. I guess I was right that it could be taken into secure Federal facilities undetected.

Behind her are Cameron, Cindi and a large team from Four. They secure the room without any more shots being fired, but I can see Cameron, Andrew and my cousins Geoff and James have each taken multiple stunner hits in order to get here. If I know the hearts of these men, they used themselves as shields to protect Martha and Cindi.

Dozens of people begin streaming into the room. I see many of my old students; I see mothers and their children; and I see grandmothers who remember the things their grandmothers told them about the Lord. I see people who’ve been sitting in a fog in front of their screens for decades, whose hearts are now ready to do more with their lives.

They’re not here seeking me though, they’re all here to seek the Lord.

The cameras are still on, capturing everything for the world to see.

Henry drops to his knees, holding his wrist.

“It went right between your radius and the ulna, Henry. Not a bone was broken. Sometimes the messages are subtle … but not this one.”

Federal officials from the Secret Service are the next to arrive, but other than taking Henry and his people into custody, they do little to interfere with the scene.

Martha runs to my side and unchains me. I hold up my left hand and show her my wedding band.

“Nobody takes it off but you.”

As I say it, I feel consciousness starting to slip away from me, as if I was being held up by something outside myself that’s done its job and is now needed somewhere else.

The last thing I hear is Martha yell “Cephas!” before I hit the floor.

*****

I wake up to a small light flashing in my eyes. I’m on a medical gurney that’s moving quickly down a well-lit hallway. My head is secured on either side so it won’t roll around, and a doctor is flashing a light in my eyes.

“Pupils are non-reactive,” the doctor says. “Keep pumping fluids into him. His internal organs are shutting down.”

I try to speak, but the only thing that seems to be working properly is my brain. I can’t even move my eyes; I can only stare blankly up at the ceiling. Someone has pumped me full of pain killers that have a paralytic effect.

Someone is holding my left hand, and out of my peripheral vision, I keep catching glimpses of blonde hair. Martha is running alongside the gurney. She has a com in her ear and is calling out instructions.

“Cameron, we’re on the sixth floor. Put someone on each stairwell and elevator.”

She listens to the response.

“I don’t care what the Secret Service says. If the President himself shows up on the sixth floor, I’ll stun him personally!”

She listens again.

“Okay, you’re right. You take over command … and Cameron? Thanks.”

I feel someone gently take my right hand, and Jocie’s face comes into view.

“I’ll say it again: Oh, how I envy Martha McLeod! You need to stand up to this like you stood up to me. Fight, Professor! Your body is shot; so you fight with that blazing fire of a soul and don’t you dare let her down.”

Jocie fades away, and I feel a tear run down my cheek.

I was wrong about one thing: Even full of painkillers, you can still feel love.

“His heart is in V-fib. We’re losing him,” the doctor calls.

Thomas comes into my view.

“If I could give you my old, enhanced heart, I would,” he says. “You’ve given me so much more …”

He also fades from view and I feel another tear. I love him too, for the role he played.

“Blood pressure is dropping,” a nurse calls out

Jesus comes into my view.

“Life in this world is an amazing series of choices, don’t you think, Cephas? You can choose a vaccine that will mark your DNA, or you can choose a deadly toxin - and have faith that God’s plan will save you from it. Why don’t you choose to stay in this world a little longer? Time means nothing to me; so I’m in no hurry to see you in person.”

Jesus gazes at me with those deep brown eyes; then smiles.

“Besides, I’m always with you.”

Many more tears roll down my cheeks as Jesus reaches down and puts his hand onto my chest.

“His heart is stabilizing,” the doctor says.

It would be so much easier to just let go.

“Who promised that life would be easy?” Jesus asks.

“Doctor, look at his brain activity,” the nurse says. “It’s through the roof.”

“He’s conscious,” Martha says. “Look at the tears.”

“It’s probably just an autonomic response,” the doctor says, as he again gets in my face with his little light.

Martha pushes him out of the way.

“You may not be able to say it to me, but I know you can think it, Cephas Paulson! Think ‘Not Today’!” Martha orders. “Do you hear me? NOT TODAY!”

“There’s no guarantee he can hear you, or understand you,” the doctor says.

“I know you hear me. Not today,” Martha repeats softly.

What was it that Martha said about me in class all those months ago? It seems like forever. She said that when I have something to say, nobody can shut me up.

My mouth still won’t work; so I focus on my left hand, which Martha is still holding. I feel her jump a little, when I manage to move my thumb.

“He moved his thumb!”

The doctor mutters something about nerve damage.

I stay focused on my thumb and continue to painstakingly move it, until it touches my wedding ring.

“That’s right,” Martha says, with tears rolling down her cheeks. “Nobody removes that ring but me.”

Not today, Martha. Definitely not today.

*****

I wake up, but leave my eyes closed. I’m in a soft bed, rather than the cold floor of a cell, and there’s a warm sunbeam on me. It seems like a good start. I can feel an I.V. running to my left arm, presumably pumping fluids and nutrients into me. I hear the turning of the page of a paper book, and soft breathing beside me. I wiggle the fingers of my left hand, my wedding band is still there.

I crack open my eyes and am surprised to see that I’m in my own bed, in my own house in Colorado Springs. I thought for sure that I’d be in some sort of Federal facility, or - at best - that Four had smuggled me out of government control and I was in one of their safe houses.

Martha is sitting beside me in the sunbeam, reading the 2029 Bible that belonged to Mrs. Pierce. Her hair looks like living gold in the sunlight and I can see sparkles dancing in her eyes as they move back and forth across the page. I’d be content to just lie here and watch her all day.

“I must be dead - I’m seeing angels,” I say.

My whisper startles Martha enough that she jumps a little.

“Cephas Paulson dead? Not today.”

Tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“Fine? You think you’re fine? You’ve been unconscious for over a week. When we got you to a hospital, you were on the edge of death. Even when you touched your thumb to your ring, they said there was nothing they could do … and to bring you home and make you comfortable. The entire world has been on deathwatch, waiting for what they think is inevitable. Doctors have spent days on the news talking about the extent of your injuries and your chances of surviving.”

“How are we here in my … I mean our house?” I ask. “We’re not safe here.”

I struggle to sit up, but Martha easily holds me down with just a light pressure on my chest.

“You’re under Federal protection, ordered by the President. All Christians are under Federal protection. Outside our front door, there’s an outer ring of Federal agents who won’t let anyone through, and an inner ring of protection from Four that won’t even allow the Feds through. Cameron took your request to play offense to heart. He even shot down a news drone that hovered too close to the house yesterday.”

My cousin Cindi walks through the door without knocking, holding a tray with a sandwich and a drink.

“Martha, it’s been days since you slept or ate anything…”

Her jaw freezes open when she sees that I’m awake.

“Hey, Cuz. I see you’re still protecting my protector, like I asked.”

I smile and think to reach out and place my hand on Martha’s stomach, even though the movement is painful. There’s a noticeable baby bump now.

“Geoff! James!”

I hear the sound of feet running up the stairs in response to Cindi’s yell.

“Oh, God, no. Please, no!” I hear Geoff say, just before he and James appear in the doorway next to Cindi.

“No, Geoff. I’m not dead yet.”

I answer his fears and watch his eyes go wide.

“I don’t believe it,” Geoff says.

“There’s no way I could have been on the edge of death,” I say. “I remember how strong I felt - standing straight and tall in the shape of a cross, with the light behind me.”

Like an immovable puzzle piece

“The doctors have wondered about that too. They can’t explain it,” Martha replies. “They say you were a dead man standing.”

“I can explain it. Does anybody feel like doing a little hacking?” I ask.

“Hacking? We don’t need to hack,” James says. “The deal for you to come home to die was that the Feds put a camera on you around the clock so the world can see you’re safe from Henry, and people like him.”

He points to a camera on the wall.

“You’re being watched right now, Cephas. Say something to the world.”

“For anyone who wonders how a man who was nearly dead stood up and formed the sign of the cross, open your Bibles to Second Timothy, Chapter 4, verse seventeen:

But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth.

“Thank you for your prayers; but now I need to go back to sleep. Please don’t worry about me. My personal angels are watching over me.”

I smile, and indeed fall back into a deep, restful sleep.