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Messages

Page 27

by John Michael Hileman


  The last thing he saw was the pistol handle hovering in the air above him.

  Then the world went dark.

  Again.

  Chapter 59

  It began as a low buzz, like an insect circling the room, but grew steadily until the sound filled his head. And with the sound, came the pain. An enormous amount of pain. David tried to determine if the sound was the source of the pain. A voice spoke, but whether it came from inside or outside his body, he did not know.

  But he couldn’t resist it; the authority could not be denied.

  It spoke again. “David! Get up!”

  His eyes opened to slits, and the expanse of the hangar ceiling shimmered above him. Gradually the sound of the buzzing became the sound of an engine. He turned and tried to roll over. The tractor, it’s still here. Pushing through the pain, he got to his knees, with the urgency of the voice still ringing in his mind.

  Alex was driving toward the open hangar bay doors.

  David’s heart jumped. A yelp of desperation came from his lips. “STOP!”

  Alex turned back with a weary expression, but the cart continued forward.

  “Don’t do this!”

  Alex wasn’t listening.

  Then David’s eyes fell upon the pistol lying on the ground.

  And he remembered.

  The bullet! The one he’d picked up at the hostage house! Trembling violently, he scrambled onto his knees, picked up the pistol, and fumbled in his pocket. It was still there! Relief and dread struck him simultaneously. Relief that the bullet was still there; dread, because he was going to have to use it. He slid the bullet into a chamber, it fit perfectly. He peered back up at the tractor.

  This is it. There’s no turning back.

  “Alex!” David stood on shaky legs. “The messages told me to pick up a live round!”

  The cart came to a stop, the engine slipped into idle. Alex twisted in the seat and looked back, his face clearly displaying the bitterness he felt. “Do I need to remind you that I have your wife and children?”

  The words stabbed at David’s heart. “You wouldn’t hurt them.”

  “I wouldn’t be the one hurting them. You would!”

  David tried to wrap his mind around the words.

  “Your family is with Afif. If you kill me, David, and I don’t return, he’ll have no further use for them. Your actions here will determine whether they live or die. That’s how it works. We make choices, and those choices go beyond the moment. If you kill one person, three could die. If I kill a plane full of people, hundreds could live.” He turned in his seat. The engine sound filled the hangar again.

  “NO!” David screamed. But the cart continued to move away. In the distance, the roar of a jet engine grew louder. He needed more time to think this through. There had to be something he could say to Alex to stop him. But what if he didn’t stop? He gripped the gun and squeezed his eyes tightly. I need to know––will you protect my family? Please! He looked around frantically. From the few sources of text in the hangar, nothing spoke to him. The words were silent. How can you NOT answer? I’ve done everything! Everything you’ve asked! His hands wobbled as he sighted in on Alex’s shrinking form. I can’t do this! I CAN’T do this! He’s my BEST FRIEND!

  In seconds he would be too far away.

  MY FAMILY! He tried to focus on the moving luggage cart. Please don’t let Alex die. Please! He reemphasized his grip. Heart pounding. Eye blurring. There was no more time. The message said to stop him. He had to trust the words; they had never let him down before.

  CRAACK!!!

  The sound reverberated through the hollow hangar.

  Alex slumped over, and the cart came to a stop.

  David stood staring, then slowly allowed the weight of the pistol to draw his arms down. The release of adrenaline had left him numb. In the enormous cavern of the hangar bay, he floated in the reverberating echo. As it diminished, he felt as though it was he who was diminishing, growing smaller with each faint pulse. The distant figure remained motionless as the roar of the jet engine came closer. Through a river of tears, through the open bay doors, Air Force One taxied into view. David sank to his knees, and the pistol fell to the cement with a sharp click. It was over. He had done what the words said. He had saved the President. But at what cost? He stared at the still figure in the distance, and a sharp pain pierced his heart.

  He closed his eyes. “Please speak to me,” he whispered, chin quivering. “Will my family be safe?” Opening his eyes, his gaze fell on a paper lying near him on the ground, an old campaign flier. On it were the words, Vote YES on Question One. A flood of tears came as the familiar feeling of confirmation washed over him. It said YES. His family would be safe.

  God’s answer had been there all along.

  God, had been there, all along.

  Chapter 60

  “We interrupt this program to bring you a special report.”

  “Hello, I’m Cindy Coulter reporting from Channel Seven News. Authorities converged this afternoon on the home of Alex Blackstone, an ex-Navy Seal who, police say, is allegedly the mastermind behind the Boston Bomb Threat. We go live now to Karen Watson on location. Hi Karen, tell us what it looks like there on the ground.”

  “Thank you, Cindy. This morning, in a startling turn of events, police, acting on an anonymous tip, raided this residential Marlboro home and took into custody Afif Al-Qadir, the man who is considered to be the financier for the terrorist cell operating in the Boston area. Also uncovered were Jerry Cook, his sister, and her two children, who were being held hostage in the basement of the home. Jerry Cook, a Harvard Chemist, and as we reported yesterday, considered to be the creator of the terrorist bomb, was exonerated today from all wrong doing. Authorities inform us that Mr. Cook had been working closely with them from the beginning of their investigation, and that he took part in the undercover sting operation which ultimately thwarted the terrorist plot. Afif Al-Qadir is believed to be the last of the Arab terrorists operating in the Boston area, but Alex Blackstone is still at large. However, authorities are working on leads and feel confident they will soon have him in custody as well.”

  Cindy came back on the screen. “It’s certainly been a grim two days here in the greater Boston area. It’s good to know Homeland Security is on the job.”

  “Yes, Cindy. It sure is. There is one person, however, I would like to thank personally. While authorities conducted their investigation, he was working behind the scenes, risking everything to follow a series of mysterious prophetic messages which helped law enforcement seize the Ace Wrecking Company, and then ultimately led him to disarm the second bomb. David, if you’re watching. Thank you on behalf of a grateful city. Thank you for trusting. Thank you for not giving up.

  “Now back to you, Cindy.”

  ~Authors Note~

  Messages is a work of fictional allegory, that means it's not meant to be taken as fact. If you think God is sending you message through your plants, your lava lamp, or your neighbor's dog, you may want to get that checked out. That's all I'm going to say about that.

  If you want to read some non-fiction accounts of how God interacts with us, try Maine Miracles. My wife and editor, Joanie Hileman, has compiled thirty-two true stories of God's miraculous intervention.

  If you would like more mind-bending fiction from yours truly, you might try my first novel. VRIN: ten mortal gods

  If you would like to know when my next book is coming out, you can email me at johnhileman@gmail.com, and get on my authors friend list, or visit my blog: http://mysterynovel-blogspot.com

 

 

 
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