Sure, evil forces were out to harm everyone they possibly could today, Jess included. But Ray Anne had to have been their prized victim. The bull’s-eye Molek had been determined to hit all along. He saw the power and purity in her, and he hated her for it. And like a blind fool, I fell into his trap. Led her right to him.
I continued through the dense woods, crying so hard I was shaking, my injured face leaking blood all the way down my shirt. I felt myself breaking on the inside in a way that I never had before. Never even thought possible.
I got so light headed, so exhausted, that I literally couldn’t take another step. My knees buckled, and I hit the ground, one palm pressing down on pine needles and mud and pebbles, the other clutching Ray Anne’s journal. Both hands stained with her blood.
I was done. My self-reliance incinerated by absolute defeat.
And for the first time in my life, I let go.
Completely.
“God. I know you’re there. Please . . . don’t turn away from me.
“I see it now. My stubborn pride. My hard heart.
“I know that you are merciful, that you shine love on humanity. But we push you aside. I have . . . all my life. I never took the time to know you. Didn’t want to. Just blamed you for every bad thing. But I’ve seen the way your Watchmen look at evil—the contempt in their faces. And how they look at us . . . with such compassion . . .
“I have questions—lots of them. But I want to tell you something right now . . .
“I’m sorry—sorry for trying to control everything. And for thinking I somehow didn’t deserve a shackle.
“I’ve failed miserably at trying to rescue people—I admit it. I’m the one who needs saving.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath.
“I’m asking you, God—if your Son really died . . . died for me—please help me. Save me. If you’ll have me, I’m giving my life to you. I mean it this time.
“And please—please, God—save Ray Anne. Spare her life.”
It occurred to me that my request might be too late.
“No matter what happens . . .” I curled up on my side. “I surrender.”
FORTY-SIX
WHEN I OPENED MY EYES, my face was lying in a pool of blood. I just lay there beneath the towering trees, having no desire or strength to hold myself up. I felt like at any second my eyes might close again and I’d fade out of this life forever.
The sunlight had been replaced by overcast hues of gray. All was calm and still. Gusts of wind skimmed the side of my face, and it took me back to that lakeside carnival. I’d had an unforgettable time there with Ray Anne, but while lying here now, all alone, slipping in and out of consciousness, I dreamed of the evenings I’d spent there as a child, with my mother.
I recalled the sound of her laughter and the feel of her hands lifting me onto the rides when I was too small to climb up on my own. How I’d begged her to stay a little while longer, over and over again, and she had. Over and over again.
How was it that I’d spent all these years despising her every day for her shortcomings, rehearsing her failures—while overlooking the ways she’d cared for me? No denying she’d made some serious, costly mistakes. And had lied to cover her shame.
But so had I.
I decided right then that if I survived this day, I would show my mom the same mercy Ray Anne had shown me. Forgiveness without conditions.
If I survived . . .
I was trembling uncontrollably now, battling the sensation that there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air.
I wanted to hate Dan for what he’d done, but somehow I couldn’t. I was still angry at him, but my rage was mixed with an unshakable awareness. Dan’s soul had been victimized long before he opened fire at our school—beaten and bruised over and over by the one man who was supposed to love him. Dr. Bradford had made gaping wounds in his son’s soul, and evil had rushed in.
A shrill whisper echoed through the woods, and my body tensed. The trees rustled, then gave way to a flurry of movement. Creepers moved among the branches like ravenous shadows. And here came my relentless adversary, staring down at me, lips drawn back and fangs exposed.
Death had come for me, once and for all.
I didn’t want to go out like this, a weakling lying limp in the dirt. Twice I tried to stand, but twice my strength failed. Molek paced circles around me like a prowling lion. I was on my back, but I shouted up at him, “I’m not afraid of you!”
For once, I truly wasn’t.
I closed my eyes and waited for his next move—the ripping away of my soul as my body bled out.
It never came.
Instead, I felt someone pick me up. I was lifted high off the ground. My stomach dropped, and my equilibrium spun. I swayed with each step taken by whoever—whatever—had hold of me.
I strained to see, but I was disoriented. Just soil and ground cover below, mixed with flashes of blinding light.
I made a final effort to lift my chin, and there, where I’d been lying, was Molek, fuming and eyeing me with revulsion.
He dropped to the ground and slammed his fist into the earth, raging like a caged bear.
He wouldn’t rest until he tasted retribution. But for now, I felt safe—a sensation that made me drowsy. I tried to stay awake but couldn’t.
Darkness overtook me.
I was too weak to open my eyes, but I sensed warmth on my face. Sunrise? I felt the grit of dirt under my elbows and fingertips. Desperate to see where I was, I blinked and balled my hands into fists, fighting to gain strength. And finally, little by little, I could see my surroundings—the wooded clearing, only now it was radiant with light. The water well stood there, as scenic as a postcard picture.
Energy surged through my veins, rousing my body. I drew in a long breath, inhaling the most invigorating scent.
I knew it well.
I managed to lean onto my side. There, sitting beside me, was an enormous Watchman, with glistening skin and gleaming eyes.
Peering down at me.
When he spoke, it felt like a massive waterfall reverberating against my chest. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.” He was smiling at me. Actually smiling!
He stood, and I marveled at his commanding presence. No armor, but enough majesty and light to dispel the darkest of beings.
He turned to go.
“Wait!” I just wanted to understand. “Where were you yesterday? Why did you let evil win?”
He turned back to me, his gaze unwavering but kind. So kind. “They didn’t win. They fell into a carefully planned trap. You’ll see, in time.”
“But all those students . . . And Ray Anne . . .”
“She interrupted evil’s plan. Chose to offer herself to protect other lives.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that Jess could have been Molek’s intended target all along. Not just Jess, but the tiny light she carried. And Ray Anne had taken Molek by surprise.
“Is Ray Anne alive?”
He lifted his eyes to the sky. “Trust, Owen.”
Peace poured over me like a soothing summer rain.
I didn’t want him to leave, but he wasn’t subject to my orders. He disappeared into the forest.
I was willing to trust—to have faith that Ray Anne would survive and we would be together, and that somehow, some way, yesterday’s tragedies would result in something good.
I stood, and that’s when it hit me.
There was no sunrise pouring into the clearing like I’d assumed, no Watchman here now to infuse the space with light. It was still night, yet it wasn’t dark.
The light I was seeing—
Was emanating from me.
It glowed on the ground all around me. And that miserable chill in my stomach . . . was gone. Finally, completely gone.
I felt warm and wonderful all over, like I’d come to life. More than that, I felt free—free to live and love and light the way for others by telling my crazy, incredible story. Like I’m doing with you now. But this is just the
beginning.
There’s more.
Much more.
You do believe me, don’t you?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
AS I CONSIDER ALL THE incredible people who have helped to bring the vision of this book to pass, I am humbled and overwhelmed with gratitude.
I’d like to thank my literary agent, Don Jacobson, for being among the first to believe in this project, even when others doubted, and for encouraging me with God’s promises when I myself battled doubts. Throughout this winding journey, you have proven to be a person abounding in wisdom, integrity, and faithfulness.
I’m so very grateful for the talented team at Tyndale House! Linda Howard, I thank God for the day we met and am so appreciative of how you’ve championed this project. Sarah Rubio, your editorial expertise did wonders for this book, for which I will always be thankful. (You truly are the bomb dot com!)
I’ll never forget the support shown by Kim Andrus, Linda McClendon, Griff and Mindi Jones, and Adam and Jennifer Cole. You have blessed me more than you’ll ever know!
I’d like to thank Corey and Dana Grindal and Jon and Kay Nicholson for going above and beyond to see this message travel far and wide. You’ve stepped out in faith with me in big ways!
It’s impossible to express how truly thankful I am for the “Delusion Dream Team”—an extraordinary group of ladies who’ve offered endless prayers, support, advice, and encouraging hugs. I have learned so much from each of you. We’re in this together, and I wouldn’t have it any other way!
Rachael Donohoe, you have made a lasting mark on this project. I treasure the fountain of inspiring words you so often share and am honored to travel this road with you.
Kelley Allison, your enthusiasm and passion for this project are second to none, and I’m sure I could write a book thicker than this one if I were to list all the ways you’ve blessed my life. You’ve taught me invaluable lessons about faith and friendship and have brought ongoing joy as you’ve walked beside me every step of the way.
Patrick, you’ve made countless sacrifices—small and big—to allow me to pursue the call of God on my life. There’s no one I love and admire more than you.
Madison, Avery, and Levi, my love for you inspires everything I do, and I couldn’t be more proud of the spiritual champions that you are.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
In a culture intrigued by the paranormal yet often skeptical of biblical claims, Laura Gallier seeks to bring awareness and understanding to issues surrounding the supernatural. Having battled her own enemies of the soul throughout her teen and young adult years, she is on a mission to expose deception with the light of truth, bringing hope and healing to a generation in need. Laura lives in the greater Houston area with her husband, Patrick, and their three children. Get to know Laura better at www.lauragallier.com.
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Has this book made an impact on you? Share your story with author Laura Gallier by emailing [email protected]
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Curious about the author? Learn more about Laura and her speaking events at LauraGallier.com. To inquire about booking Laura to speak, email [email protected].
In need of help? If you or someone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, talk to a parent, teacher, pastor, or youth leader, or contact a suicide hotline. Remember, God loves you and there is hope, even in seemingly hopeless situations.
THE HOPE LINE
www.thehopeline.com
1-800-273-8255
NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION LIFELINE
suicidepreventionlifeline.org
1-800-273-8255
The Delusion Page 29