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Through the Fury to the Dawn (Action of Purpose Book 1)

Page 2

by Stu Jones


  It was going to be a good day after all.

  GREEN COUNTY, TENNESSEE

  Kane’s house sat in the western end of Green County, about a twenty-mile drive east of Knoxville. It was a beautiful place, 12.7 acres of Bermuda grass, oaks, and pine trees, with the peak of Crenshaw Mountain visible from the front porch. His refurbished country home was two stories tall, not large but still roomy, with a cozy cedar sitting room and stone fireplace. It had belonged to his grandparents, and Kane and his father had worked hard to get it into shape, making some welcome additions. Kane had grown up in Tennessee. What was a state of hillbillies and rednecks to a lot of people was home to him. The people that branded the Southeast this way misunderstood it. It was a place of rolling mountains, quiet streams, and humid summer stillness. It spoke to his soul. He had always loved it there.

  He lay in his bed, looking out upon the yard as it faded into dusk, a crisp breeze blowing in on him from the cracked window. In a moment of frustration, he had gotten up and left the hospital. Regardless of what they promised, they weren’t going to be able to do anything for him anyway. Why did he have to stay and be uncomfortable in that wretched hospital bed if they couldn’t help him? So he had gotten up, removed his tubes and IV, shrugged off the coercive nurses, and left.

  Forget them, they had nothing for him anyway. They could bill him.

  When Susan found out about his little stunt, she had come apart and insisted upon having a nurse at the house to look after him. He’d refused, knowing all the while it would do no good. Susan called it “in-home care,” but Kane called it something else because he knew what it was. Hospice.

  The telephone was trilling softly in the kitchen. Kane looked back to the TV and turned it up a few bars to hear the anchor for the nightly news.

  “This just in. I’m getting reports that we now have video of the latest of a string of what the Sword of Destiny is calling their proclamations to the West. The Secretary of Defense in a statement earlier said that they had upgraded the terror alert to orange and that these proclamations were blatant terrorist threats aimed at the United States and her Allies. Here’s what The Sword had to say in the most recent video.”

  The news cut to a taped address featuring a masked speaker in a darkened room holding a machete. The video quality was so bad that Kane squinted to decipher the image.

  “We believe that Fate has intervened in the lives of the chosen.” The man spoke in a strong Middle Eastern accent. “We have allied with our brothers in suffering in other nations to stand against the Jewish and Christian pigs. We have risen to strike fear into the fat hearts of the nonbelievers who dictate. There will be no negotiations. If you do not agree to submit yourselves to our authority, we will strike with terrible force at the core of your nations. Do not believe that we are incapable of this—”

  Kane clicked the TV off. He chuckled at how the terrorist’s boldness was somehow supposed to add legitimacy to the message and trump the fact that they were broadcasting from their hiding place deep inside a cave. The world was screwed up, and Kane was beginning to realize that he couldn’t care less about the world and its problems.

  Kane’s father rapped on the door to his room and entered with a slight limp, a memento he’d retained from the war in Vietnam. At sixty-four years old, he was a tall man with sturdy forearms and a beer belly. As he hobbled in, Kane observed him and was thankful that his father had been around for him for so long. He had stayed with Kane while Susan and the kids were in Florida, arranging a place to stay and communicating with Dr. Fisk.

  “Susan should be calling any second.” His father said motioning with the cordless phone. “How are ya feeling, buddy?”

  “I’m okay, I guess.”

  “Your sister called all the way from California while you were sleeping. I told her you’re recovering well.” His dad smiled. “Why the long face?”

  “I don’t know, I just…I dunno.”

  “Everything happens for a reason, Kane. If I hadn’t been shot in ‘Nam…”

  “I know, you’d have never met mom in the hospital.”

  “The love of my life,” his father smiled.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Kane said, “For everything.”

  “No problem. Hey, so you know, I put the stuff you had on that list in the kitchen in the storm bunker.”

  “Dad, you didn’t have to do that. That list has been sitting out there for weeks.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d go crazy around here all day with nothing to keep me busy, so it’s done.”

  “Well, I appreciate it, then.”

  The phone rang.

  “You bet. I’ll be in the living room if you need me,” his father said as he handed Kane the phone and turned toward the door. “Oh, and I was going to go fishing for a while early in the morning. I should be back by lunch.”

  “Okay, Dad,” Kane said, as he raised the phone to his ear and hit the talk button. “Susan?”

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Honey, I’m sorry about the other day at the hospital,” Kane blurted out. “I was reeling from the news about my condition, and I was a little harsh with what I said. I’m sorry—me leaving and all. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “It’s okay, baby. I know that you’ve had a lot on you. I just wanted to help.”

  She was being gracious to him, but Kane knew he had wounded her. Her faith as a Christian was important to her.

  “I just wanted you to know…” Kane started.

  “Kane, it’s alright. Listen, I’ve got two hungry three-year-olds here, so let me tell you what the deal is. I met with Dr. Fisk today, and he said because Dr. Rosen referred you, he’s going to work you in the day after tomorrow. I’ve arranged for you to be flown down tomorrow afternoon, and your initial surgery to help stabilize you will be the following morning. Your dad has offered to take you and the nurse to the airport.”

  “Jeez,” Kane said. “Is it necessary for the nurse to accompany me? I’m fine. I’ll take it easy.”

  The nurse, Charlene, was an obese woman in her fifties. Kane was sure that she had good intentions, but she treated him as if there was nothing he was able to do for himself. She had even offered, to the point of insistence, on giving him a sponge bath. He adamantly refused.

  “She will be along just as a safety precaution during your trip,” Susan said.

  “Well, that’s fantastic. I’m looking forward to being treated like a child some more.”

  Susan was quiet for a minute. Kane couldn’t tell if she was worried, tired, or just preoccupied.

  “Just take care of yourself and don’t stress getting down here. We’ll have it all taken care of.” She paused. “I’ve got two munchkins who want to say hi to Daddy.”

  “Put them on.” Kane smiled unconsciously. From the day the twins were born, Kane had been completely in love with them. They were the most wonderful things that had ever happened to him, and he cherished them as such.

  “Daddy!” they chimed together on the other end.

  “Hey, how are my monkeys?” he said, beaming.

  “We wuv you, Daddy,” said Rachael.

  “I love you both so much.”

  “Mommy is taking us to get ice cweam,” Michael said.

  “After dinner,” he could hear Susan say.

  “Aftur dinnur,” Michael repeated.

  “Yummy! Eat some for me, and be good for Mommy,” Kane said.

  “Yeh sur,” they said.

  “Daddy?” Rachael started. “Are you feewing better yet?”

  Kane felt his eyes tear up and his throat turn to stone. He could read them like open books. Michael had taken it well, knowing that his daddy was strong and would be okay. Rachael, was wary and upon seeing him in the hospital bed, burst into tears. The thought of them having to grow up with him sickly, and eventually not there, was like a cold knife in his heart. He cleared his throat.

  “Daddy’s feeling better today, sweet pea, don’t you worry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
>
  Again in chorus, “We wuv you, Daddy!”

  “I love you both so much!”

  “Hey,” Susan said taking the phone.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you all set?” she asked. “Don’t worry about anything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Susan I just need to tell you something.” He paused “The other day, I…I love you, and I respect your faith, it’s just not my faith.”

  “I know, Kane,” she said. “Faith isn’t something to fear. When you’re ready, I think you will welcome it. I love you.” With that, she hung up.

  Kane laid his head back and set the phone on the nightstand. This Christianity thing was new with them, and Kane was still unaccustomed to it. Susan had begun going to church after the twins had their second birthday. She had said that God had opened her eyes to Him and wanted to talk to him about it. He stopped all that nonsense before it got started. Faith and God—and faith in God—did not have any place in his life. He believed in what he could put his hands on. He believed in science, mathematics, and history; in the mental fortitude of a prepared and dedicated individual; in the power of the human spirit in the face of adversity. He had seen enough pain, death, sorrow, and misery to make him wonder why a good God would do these things to good people. And now this.

  He had noticed a change in Susan, though not one that had taken a negative toll on their relationship. If anything, she had been more loving, giving, and content. As if the gaggle of problems and cares that the world pitched upon her were no longer quite so heavy.

  Kane sighed, shut his eyes, and listened as Charlene lumbered down the hall and knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  “Time for your nightly medications!” she said in a singsong fashion that irritated him.

  “Thanks,” muttered Kane.

  He was just so tired, and no matter how much rest he got, he continued to feel the energy flowing from him like blood gushing from an open wound. He was broken inside, and no one—neither man nor God—could save him now.

  “Here we go,” he said out loud to Charlene as he tossed the pills back and toasted her sarcastically with his water glass. “To the beginning of the end.”

  THE UNIVERSITY OF TENNESSEE KNOXVILLE, TENNESSEE

  Jenny Velasquez walked through the front door of the dormitory with a dramatic feminine swagger, the way only a shapely nineteen-year-old in a dance uniform could. Her raven-black hair swished back and forth with the confident rhythm of her hips. She smugly checked her fingernails, flicking her hair out of her face as she entered and rode the musky elevator to the fourth floor of Davis Hall, the largest coed freshman dorm on campus. With a bing, the tarnished elevator doors separated, and Jenny stepped into the fluorescent hall, walking past several guys who made no attempt to conceal that they were studying every inch of her tall, firm frame.

  Stopping at room 431, she opened her small handbag and pulled out a bronze key attached to a sorority keychain. Inserting it into the lock with a snick, she turned the knob and entered her room.

  “Oh, hey, Molly. I didn’t think you’d be here,” she said, tossing her bag onto her twin bed as she began shrugging out of her dance outfit.

  “Yeah, just relaxing a little.” Molly brushed a small wisp of short blonde hair out of her face and peered over the top of her suspense novel at her roommate.

  “Did you get the message from your grandma? The one she left on the machine about sending some money for your school expenses?” Jenny asked as she stepped into a pair of worn jeans.

  “Yeah, I talked to her this afternoon, thanks.”

  “Oh, okay. You don’t have plans with Eric tonight?”

  “Nope, he’s got a big chemistry test tomorrow bright and early.”

  “You do too, don’t you? Chemistry?”

  “No, it’s biology. I’m not too good with chemistry.”

  “You’re not going to study?”

  “Ugh, no, I’ve had all the studying I can take.”

  “I hate science,” Jenny said, picking up a lightweight black sweater. “I don’t know why you take those classes if you don’t have to. You’re a religion major, for goodness’ sake.”

  “I think it’s fascinating, especially the study of the animal kingdom. Insects and their behavior, for example, are so much more complicated than you might think. It’s amazing to analyze it scientifically, but also know that there was a divine Creator behind the orchestration of it all.” Molly leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up on the desk.

  “Yeah, well, whatever.” Jenny paused. “Hey, you want to go out with us tonight?”

  Molly shrugged. “Who’s us?”

  “Ben and Allen, a couple of guys I don’t know, and some of the girls on the dance team. We’re going to RJ Mahoney’s to get plowed.”

  Molly made a disgusted face.

  “If you don’t have a fake ID, it’s no problem, I mean, we can get you whatever you want.”

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks for the offer and all, but I’m not really a ‘go out and get plowed’ kind of gal,” Molly said with a smile. “You know.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I keep asking, thinking that you’ll loosen up sooner or later,” Jenny said, smiling back.

  “It’s not about loose. I’m loose,” Molly said, reclining. “It’s just not my thing, that’s all. But if you guys need a ride back later or something, give me a call. I’d rather you wake me than drive when you shouldn’t.”

  “Thanks, Molly,” Jenny said, opening the door. “You’re very thoughtful, you know that? For two people who don’t have a whole lot in common, I think we get along famously.”

  “Yeah, me too. You guys have fun!”

  Jenny gave a wink and a little wave as she allowed the heavy door to latch behind her. Molly took a deep breath and leaned back in her comfy chair, shaking her head. Getting plowed was definitely not her idea of a good time. She was exhausted, and anyway, she had to finish this novel before it turned to dust. Molly leaned her head back and pulled the open book to her face. With eyes half closed, she breathed deeply the musty scent of the binding. It smelled like quiet libraries and busy bookstores and… Dad. Her daddy had read to her every night as a little girl; even when he had been away on business trips, he would call and read to her over the phone before she went to bed. Molly’s eye twitched. But that was before….

  A knock came at the door, and Molly sat up sharply in the chair. Closing the book, she stood and crossed the room and, keeping the security latch in place, cracked the door.

  “You and your security latch, you’re killing me,” came the familiar voice through the crack.

  They stared at each other for a moment through the cracked door. “Hey, I just wanted to apologize for being kind of a selfish jerk yesterday,” Eric said.

  “You know, you were kind of acting like a selfish jerk yesterday.”

  “I know. It wasn’t a really good day for me. Coach told me that he’s putting me on third string. I took it out on you, so, I’m really sorry,” he said.

  “Apology accepted.” She paused as if deliberating on whether to let him in or not. “Hey! Shouldn’t you be studying?” She added with a sly smile.

  “Yeah, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He smiled back as he stuck his arm through the crack and pretended to grab at her.

  “Better stop your grabbing; don’t think I won’t shut your arm in this door. I’m still a little mad at you,” Molly said as she unlatched the door. “Besides, you could be the campus stalker!”

  “You’ve discovered me! But now you will be my next victim!” he said dramatically as he grabbed her in a bear hug that only a football player could give.

  “Okay, you’re freaking me out now,” she said as she pushed her hand against his chest. “You sure you don’t need to study anymore?”

  “Nah, I can’t take any more. Seriously. I’m losing my mind looking at that book. And I wanted to come make up.”

  “Well, alright, I guess you can stay for
a while. But just a while, and then you’ve got to go,” she said as she collapsed into him and laid her head against his chest.

  “Go?”

  “Oh yeah, you’ve got to go. Hey, we both have big tests tomorrow, starting early.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “And then…” she mumbled.

  “And then what?

  “I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

  “What? Does it have to do with my birthday? Why can’t you tell me?”

  “Be-cause it’s a surprise, just like I said. You’ll just have to wait and see. It’s going to be crazy.” She smiled and kissed him.

  DAY 1

  A flash of light blazed on the horizon, and a deep boom sounded in the distance. The house shuddered. Kane sat up and tried to rub the chemical haze from his eyes. He was having trouble focusing.

  What the hell?

  He strained his ears, hearing only the night sounds and a strange whining that was growing louder. Kane lay back and shut his eyes once again. He was just so tired, maybe the drugs….

  The explosive blast wave struck the house with the force of a category 5 hurricane. The windows disintegrated, sending fragments of glass like tiny daggers in all directions, and there was a terrible splintering sound as the roof peeled away like the lid on a sardine can. Thrown, into the far wall along with everything else in the room, Kane wedged horizontally into the sheet rock, where he lodged for a moment before slamming to the floor. The early morning darkness around the house was replaced by a fiery nightmarish thing that bore down upon him and seared itself into his consciousness. He raised his head to get his bearings, gulping lava into his lungs, everything burning. The entire rear side of the house was gone.

  Completely gone.

  He dug his fingernails into the carpet and began to crawl toward the door, instinct taking over. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the truck rolling across the yard as his heart hammered in his ears. Getting out was the only primitive thought in his head and it drove him through the door and into the hallway. Kane crawled on his belly, forcing the broken, bloody nails of his fingers into the wooden floor, trying in desperation to maintain the only point of stability around him. The wind screamed and his body half floated in the hallway, threatening to blow away at any moment. The structure cracked, lurched, and came apart, tilting and causing him to slide backward into the stairwell and tumble down to the first floor. Kane’s body landed with a brutal smack against the marble floor of the kitchen where he slid into a pile of mangled furniture. He watched as Charlene’s severed upper torso slid past him and into a gaping hole in the floor, the frozen look of shock still on her face. Using the cabinetry, he began climbing up toward the rear of the house.

 

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