by Stu Jones
“Deflect this,” Kane said as he jammed his Glock under Malak’s chin and fired. Kane fell, smacking on his back against the mud, where he scrambled backward. Malak stumbled, clutching at the gaping, crimson hole in his face as the blood sprayed from it.
Hope swelled in Kane’s chest mere seconds before it was replaced with absolute horror. With a wet, smacking sound, Malak worked his jaw, and the jagged hole in his face began to mend. Kane crawled away in terror as the surrounding goons cheered and laughed. Malak moved toward Kane once more.
“No,” Kane stammered. “That’s not possible.”
Malak’s guttural laugh sounded far from human as he continued to stalk forward, the last bit of his face coming back together. “Your weapons can’t hurt me. Nothing can.”
In a flash, Malak lunged forward, seizing Kane by his face, suffocating him as he lifted him into the air. Kane’s legs kicked franticly beneath him as he clawed at the iron fingers that seemed to stretch around his head.
“Behold! This is what awaits the followers of God!” Malak roared as the crowd cheered. Malak swung Kane down, slamming his head hard against the mud-soaked earth. Malak raised the weakened man again and again, slamming him against the earth headfirst, as each impact threatened to crush his skull.
Then, it was over. Kane gasped, his head vibrating with pain, his vision and hearing returning to him. He wasn’t dead yet. He managed to swing his arm in order to roll onto his belly. A shooting pain stabbed at the base of his neck and raced to the tips of his toes. Malak laughed as the crowd of thugs cheered for their champion. Susan cried and covered the eyes of her twins.
Don’t fail them now.
“My family,” Kane muttered as he began to crawl.
“Well, make a path for him,” Malak encouraged, as the goons laughed and hooted. The crowd rushed forward, lining either side of Kane as he crawled through the muck. It wasn’t long before the urine and spit cascaded down on him as he dug his fingers into the mud. Pushing to his hands and knees, Kane moved faster between the rows of boots. A violent kick to the ribs sent him falling back against the unforgiving terrain. A second kick struck the side his head, and he felt himself fade.
“Let him up,” Malak growled. The men immediately stopped and hauled Kane to his feet. “The man wants to see his family. Why should we deny him that?”
The thugs grabbed Kane under his arms and dragged him toward Susan and the children. As he went, Kane watched through mud-caked eyes as his feet carved a path through the filth behind him.
“Give them a minute.” Malak motioned, and the thugs dropped Kane to his knees in front of his family then backed away.
“Kane? Kane, honey, are you alright?” Susan’s voice cracked as she leaned in to cradle her husband’s bloody face in her hands.
“Suz…I thought you were dead,” Kane mumbled.
“No. We survived for you, to see you again,” she said, weeping.
Kane looked up and touched his children’s faces. Even under such dire circumstances, they smiled. “Hey, guys. I missed you so much. I never gave up on you.”
“Did those men hurt you, Daddy?” Rachael asked with eyes full of fear.
“Daddy’s okay, sweet pea. Daddy loves you.”
“Kane.” Susan caught his eyes as her face hardened. “I had to do what I had to do to keep them safe. I hope you can forgive…”
“I know, honey. I don’t care about that. None of that matters.”
“Oh,” Malak said, stepping in and wiping away a fake tear. “This is beautiful, sacrifice and forgiveness—the cornerstones of the Christian faith. Why don’t we see how deep it runs?”
“Wait. Just wait. Give us another minute,” Kane pleaded, as the bandits yanked him from his family and his children began to scream.
“Wait, damn it! Stop!” Kane yelled, as a sack pulled over his head and a devastating impact landing behind his right ear, bursting night into day in a flurry of stars.
The jostling of the vehicle woke Kane. For a second he panicked as the bag restricted his breathing and threatened to smother him. He was facedown, his wrists and ankles tied with rope. The sound of the rumbling engine didn’t quite drown out the coarse laughter of the bandits, the muffled prayers of his wife, and the sobs of his precious children.
Inside the hood, Kane felt the burlap scratch against his skin and a warm trickle of blood run down his face from his right ear across his jaw. As he tried to twist against the bonds, his heart burned in his chest, the pain radiating down his arms.
“Susan, I love you so much. Always remember that, no matter what happens.”
“I’m so scared, Kane,” she whimpered amid the low hum of the vehicle.
“We’re going to—”
Kane was interrupted as the vehicle came to a sliding stop and the doors opened.
“Everyone, be strong!” Kane managed, as someone grabbed hold of him and snatched him from the vehicle. His body fell free of the vehicle then smacked hard against the earth, the impact stealing the air from his lungs. Kane had only a moment to adjust before he was dragged across the ground to some unknown destination. He was left lying on his face, his mind reeling with the fear of things to come. He listened for recognizable sounds. He heard the sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, bandits laughing, Malak giving instructions to someone, and his wife and children as they sobbed louder.
“What the hell is happening? What are you doing to them?” Kane cried.
He was jerked upright and forced back into a kneeling position.
“You’re going to be cut loose, but if you so much as move an inch, your family is dead. Nod if you understand.”
Kane nodded and felt his hands and feet come free.
“Do you remember the first time we met? Right before I killed that sweet little girlfriend of yours.” Malak’s voice whispered in Kane’s ear. “Do you remember what I told you?
Kane shook with fear and anger. “You said…”
“Yes?”
“You told me sacrifices must be made.”
“Exactly. And then what did you say?”
“I said you were finished. I told Molly it was going to be Okay,” Kane said, shaking.
“Yes, that part! That’s what I was looking for,” Malak said, as he snatched the hood from Kane’s head. An overwhelming sense of dread poured over Kane. Blinking his eyes as the wind whipped his face, he saw his family trembling and sobbing before him.
“No,” Kane sputtered. “Don’t…do this. I’m begging you,” he pleaded, shaking as his wife and two children knelt before him on the edge of a seaside cliff. Susan was tied up with a heavy hemp rope, the end of the strand trailing from her to him. Next to her, their children whimpered as they sat bound together with rope in a similar fashion, the end of their strand leading from them to Kane.
“Now,” Malak spoke with a dark vigor, “tell them like you told Molly. Tell them it’s going to be okay. Lie to them.”
“No. I won’t play your game.”
“Do it,” Malak roared, “Or I’ll cut them to ribbons while you watch.”
“I…I…” Kane stuttered as tears ran down his face. “I love each of you.” He swallowed. “It’s going to be all right.”
“Now choose!” Malak said. “You have ten seconds.”
“No! Please, no. Dear God, no, no…” he mumbled, his eyes blurring with tears.
“Kane,” Susan’s voice reached out to him, soft amid the chaos.
Kane blinked through the tears and saw the calmness in her face, a serenity that knew no end.
“Susan, I can’t choose.”
“You have to. Everything I’ve done up to now has been to save our children. Don’t let it be for nothing.”
“I can’t lose you again!” Kane wept.
“You never lost me. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to save them.”
“I…I promise,” Kane gasped, as the thugs closed in on his family.
“Kane,” Susan called out, “I never stoppe
d loving you.”
“Daddy!” the twins cried.
“Choose!” Malak raged, as his thugs placed their feet against Susan and the children and, in one violent movement, shoved all three of them over the cliff.
As they fell, time seemed to slow. Their screams shattered the fear that bound Kane to inaction. He threw himself forward and grabbed a strand of rope in each of his hands, clenching his fists down.
Screaming with terror, Kane dragged toward the cliff’s edge as the fibrous rope burned through his hands, the rough strands carving trenches in the meat of his palms. He heard Susan and the children screaming as they fell, and he knew he had only milliseconds to either die with them or save one of them. The thought of letting it all go and taking the easy plunge with them seemed one of sweet release, but as he considered it, something surged within him and denied him that path.
His body, wrapped in mortal terror, flew toward the edge as he cried out. Forcing his right hand to open, Susan’s rope whipped free and disappeared over the edge. He heard her scream again as she continued to fall, faster now, and as he placed his free hand on his children’s rope and dug his feet into the wet soil, he heard the sound of his dear wife as her body struck the rocks below.
Why have you forsaken me?
Locking his body down, Kane slowed to a stop. He wrapped the hemp around his mutilated hands, crying as he drew his children to him. They were all that mattered to him now. He had made a promise, a promise he never would forget.
Struggling, his heart hammering with violent blows inside him, Kane labored for the lives of his children. Inch by inch he pulled them up, the meat of his hands falling in chunks to the ground. Raising them just to the rim, he lunged forward and grabbed a handful of coiled rope, dragging his children up and over the edge as they cried out. The wind blew in gusts as he pulled them against his chest and listened to them call his name.
“Shh,” he cooed, as the tears streamed down his face. “Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s got you now.”
In a movement that surprised them all, they were yanked apart. Malak’s goons pulled the children from Kane and held them back, the boy and girl bawling in terror.
Defeated, Kane raised his pulpy hands, “You hateful bastards! What do you want? You’ve taken everything from me!”
Malak stepped forward and leaned in close. “I want you to know that your God has abandoned you.”
Hanging his head, Kane wept, his body quaking.
“I want you to know that because you couldn’t stop me, I’ll continue to torture, murder, and enslave every oxygen-stealing Christian, Jew, and religious zealot I come across. The voice will empower me, and I will rule this world without mercy. This is the dark future that you and your God could not prevent.” Malak knelt to look Kane in the eyes. “Of course, I also want you to die, and I want you to do so knowing that your children will be raised beneath the hand of cruelty. In time they will resent you for your weakness and your failure. Their lives belong to me.”
Kane looked at Michael and Rachael as tears streamed down his face. “Listen to me, children,” he said, shuddering. “No matter what happens, do not lose faith. I will come for you. I will find you.”
Malak shrugged and motioned for Saxon to come forward. “I’m not going to waste any more of my power on this Christian maggot. Shoot him in the face and force the children to watch.”
Kane raised his eyes past his sobbing children and past Saxon, who drew a crude semiautomatic pistol and pointed it in Kane’s direction.
“Don’t hurt my daddy!” Rachael screamed as a foul wind whipped at Kane’s hair, causing the tears to streak across his face as they fell.
“It’s okay, baby,” Kane whispered. “Close your eyes now,” he mumbled as he locked his eyes up toward the sky. “Forgive me, Father. I failed you. I failed everyone.”
The flash of a muzzle preceded the rolling echo of gunfire. Kane was struck by a crushing blast of pain that seared its way through his chest. Another blast followed, then another, as the air left his lungs and he began to feel weightless. The children screamed as Saxon raised the gun to Kane’s face and fired again, the blast snapping his head back with a spray of blood. Kane teetered, hanging on to the edge of gravity, as his body began to sway, and he felt a coldness descend upon him.
“When you see your whore of a wife, tell her I’ve got her kids now,” Saxon sneered as he kicked Kane viciously in the chest and over the edge of the cliff.
Then Kane was falling, suspended for an eternity in the open air. As he fell he saw the faces of his father, his mother, and his dear Susan as they welcomed him home with open arms. He felt a sense of calm cover him as he plunged toward the rocks, the surf rising up with a mighty crash, receiving him into its loving arms forevermore.
EPILOGUE
Momentary sparks of light danced like flecks of gold in the darkness. The smallest flare of recognition soothed the hidden fears of his heart. Something moved inside him, and his heart beat within his breast once more. With a distant hum, a grand warmth flowed over him, causing every fiber of his being to tingle. It was then that a voice, ethereal yet as familiar to his heart as the voice of his own father, spoke to him.
Kane, my child. Why would you hide your face from me? There is nothing you could do to cause me to turn from you. My son has interceded on your behalf, and his blood redeems you. Everything has happened for a reason, from the moment of your birth, to your survival, to your place among those whom I have chosen, and all the horrors you have experienced. This pain was not my desire for you, but you are mine, and I claim you as mine. You are not yet finished.
With a fresh blossom of overwhelming pain, Kane groaned in agony as a pair of massive hands hauled him from the surging tide and onto the rocky shore. His battered body hung like a torn bit of cloth in the enormous arms that cradled him as his many wounds continued to ooze blood and fluid.
“I’ve got you, brother. I found you. I don’t know how, but I found you,” came the soothingly deep baritone. Pulling Kane up onto the beach, Courtland dropped to his knees against the sand and cradled his broken friend against him.
“Look how the enemy aims to destroy a man whom the Lord God himself has raised up.” The giant touched the bullet’s entrance wound on Kane’s forehead. With the tip of his finger, he traced where the bullet grooved its way under the scalp and across the dome of the skull to where it exited through the flesh on the back of his friend’s head. “Your hard head is intact,” Courtland muttered.
The giant grabbed Kane’s shirt and tore it open, the buttons popping away to reveal the blue face of a bulletproof vest. Two rounds were lodged in the central trauma plate, while a third hit low and to the outside, just passing through the Kevlar. Courtland pursed his lips into a smile. “The Lord doesn’t want you dead yet, my friend.”
Kane moaned, unable to move or respond.
“Save your strength. Courtland will take care of you. I know it was Malak who did this to you. I think I found Susan nearby on the rocks. I can’t tell you how heavy my heart is for you.”
Courtland’s tears fell without restraint as he held his brother to his breast. “They designed it this way.” The big man’s voice quivered. “They wanted to break you all the way down. Right or wrong, I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, and seeing this happen to you and your family is my punishment.”
The wind lashed at them from a darkening sky, the storm flinging droplets of water against their huddled frames. Courtland squinted and leaned in close to Kane’s ear.
“Brace yourself, brother. Now I have to carry you, and it’s going to hurt.”
Courtland lifted the dripping wet, near lifeless body of Kane Lorusso in his arms, causing Kane to give a weak cry. Holding him close, the way a father carries his child across his chest, Courtland trudged upward, toward the sandy bluff above. As he went, his brow bent with concern and determination, and he allowed his deep, fatherly voice to well inside him.
“Seize now the shards of
your broken faith, my brother, and fear nothing, for the living God has assured us the victory,” he said, the words drifting down, a hymn of encouragement over his closest friend. “We are not yet defeated. Our purpose is not diminished. And though this task may take us into the jaws of hell itself, we will not rest until your children are safe and this demon has tasted the justice of the Lord.” The giant set his jaw in righteous anger.
“This, my oath, I swear to you.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost I must give thanks to my lord Jesus. My hero. My savior. It is because of him that I am or have anything. I, for one, am a man who is grateful for second chances.
To Kara, whose constant love, support, selflessness, and patience is an indispensible commodity in my life.
My proofreaders, David Jones and Gareth Worthington (author of Children of the Fifth Sun)—your thoughtful, constructive criticism has enhanced this novel beyond measure.
The editing team at CreateSpace who handled my manuscript and did a wonderfully professional job tightening the narrative and removing all the small inconsistencies that plague any creative effort.
I also owe a great many thanks to any and all that contributed to this work in ways large and small. It is because of you and your support that this project is a reality.
Finally I thank you, the reader. The sheer fact that you hold this book means you had the heart to take up this journey in the first place. By purchasing this book, you are also an instrumental asset in the war on human trafficking. Thank you for your support.
TAKING A STAND AGAINST HUMAN TRAFFICKING
“We cannot simply bandage the wounds of victims
beneath the wheels of injustice.
We must drive a spoke into the wheel itself.”
—Dietrich Bonhoeffer
One hundred percent of the profits from every physical and digital book sold in the Action of Purpose series will go toward combating the epidemic of sex trafficking in the United States.
Buy a copy of Through the Fury to the Dawn, Into the Dark of the Day, or Against the Fading of the Light, and an equal contribution will be made to Blanket Fort Hope and/or The Wellhouse, two faith-based nonprofit organizations dedicated to stopping the sex trafficking of women and children and assisting in the recovery of those affected by this evil practice.