I'm about to turn back when I notice that some of the rocks on this ledge form what could almost be a natural stairway going down. And I decide to try a few careful steps, wondering if the stones will hold or crumble. But they seem to hold, and I'm thinking this is just the sort of place my dad would've loved to hike and explore around in.
I take a few more cautious steps down, then pause and look back over to where the cars are parked, waving to Ebony as she comes my way with our bottles of water.
Before I know it, I'm down on this lower level. While it's interesting in a geological way, I don't see anything of real interest. I'm about to go back up when I hear a sound.
I'll Suddenly I remember Tony's warning to watch out for snakes that might be sleeping in shady niches of rocks, and I jump away from the rock staircase, worried that I might've disturbed a rattler. But as I move I see something that's even more frightening than a rattlesnake—I see a short cement block building tucked into the back of this ridge, and it's painted in a peeling tan-colored paint. My heart is pounding as I look up to the top of the low ridge, expecting to see Ebony coming down the rocky trail, but she's not there.
My heart is pounding like a jackhammer now, and fully expecting to come face-to-face with the repulsive man from my dream last night, I am ready to run for my life. But I don't know which way to go—left or right or back up the rock stairs?
I feel certain that this monster must be directly behind me right now and that, if I turn around, I'll see his vile pig face smiling at me—maybe just a few feet away! And then to get away from him, I'll go backward. And I will back straight into the building, just like in my dream.
And I will be trapped!
Twenty-One
Instead of making the same mistake that I made in my dream, allowing myself to become trapped against the building, I take in a deep breath, pray a quick prayer, and let out the biggest, loudest, wildest scream that I've ever made in my entire life.
I just keep screaming and screaming like that until first Ebony and then the others scramble down the rocky staircase toward me. As soon as Ebony is at the bottom, I run to her, and only then do I turn around to see if Colby is lurking behind me. But to my amazed relief he's not.
“What?” says Ebony, breathlessly. Her gun is drawn and ready, as are the others', prepared for anything as the four of them huddle protectively around me.
I nod over to my left, to the building that's hidden beneath the ledge. “It's right there!” I whisper. “The building in my dream!”
They look slightly unconvinced, and I can't blame them since nothing appears to be there but a pile of stones that have tumbled down the ledge over the centuries. But with guns still drawn and ready, Ebony and the FBI agents slowly move around to a perspective where they can see what I've just seen.
I wait, barely daring to breathe, trying to remember exactly what I saw that set me to screaming. And suddenly I start to wonder if perhaps I just imagined the whole thing. Perhaps I'm suffering heatstroke or having hallucinations or am in need of the counseling services of Dr. Paula Stone once again.
But I can tell by their expressions and quick move ments, as they get themselves into position, that all is not well. Then I hear Tony's hushed voice on his radio, calling for more backup.
I must've been right after all.
Ebony is back to my side in a flash, her left arm protectively wrapped around me as she looks in every direction. With handgun still firmly in hand, she slowly backs us up against a boulder, making a quiet shushing sound to me as she does so.
Every hair on my neck is standing on end now, and my knees are shaking so hard that I'm certain I'll collapse if Ebony should let go of me.
“Open up!” yells a man's voice. “Police!” This is followed by a loud bang and a thud, which I suspect is someone kicking down a door.
Then I hear muffled voices and some yelling, and the sharp sound of several gunshots stings my ears.
I jump, clinging even more tightly to Ebony, terrified that Tony or the other agents may have been shot or injured. What will we do?
It's the longest five minutes of my life as I stand here with Ebony, waiting to see the outcome of this thing, but finally Tony is back with us.
“We got the creep,” he says, his dark eyes shining with excitement. “And the girl is in there. She's okay.”
“Can we go to her?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes, please do; she looks terrified.”
Ebony and I rush around the corner, where we see Kevin o and Willie standing over a man who's sitting on the ground, o” his hands cuffed behind his back. I quickly look away. I don't want to see that face—I just want to forget him.
Then we hurry toward the short block building that I can now see has been built right into the side of the ridge, and with the stones piled over the roof, it is very camouflaged, very easy to miss.
The door is wide open now, and there, on a decrepit mattress on the floor, sits Kayla with her knees pulled up to her chin. She has on a dirty T-shirt and a pair of boxer style shorts. She looks stunned and ghostly pale, perhaps even in a state of shock.
“Kayla!” I kneel beside her and wrap my arms around her. “You're alive! You're safe!”
She looks even more bewildered when she realizes it's me. “Samantha?” she says in a hoarse-sounding voice. “Samantha McGregor?”
I nod.
“What are you doing here?”
“It's a long story, but you're safe now, Kayla.”
Then she collapses onto my shoulder and just sobs and sobs like she may never stop crying again.
Soon Kayla and I are in the backseat of an air-conditioned SUV, where she is drinking a bottle of water and Tony is retracing the maze of dirt roads to get us back to the highway. The sheriff and medical assistance are on their way, but Tony felt we'd make better time to meet them.
was so stupid, “ she tells me, her voice still hoarse, I'm guessing from dehydration. “So incredibly, freakingly stupid…” Then she goes on to tell me about how she'd been communicating with this guy she'd met online through one of those weird matchmaker websites.
“I only did it to make Emma believe I had a boyfriend, so she would think I didn't care about Parker anymore. It started out as kind of a joke, you know? But this guy sounded so totally amazing in his e-mail…he was so mature, and his life sounded so awesome, his car, his condo…he told me there was an Olympic-size swimming pool. And his photograph…he looked so hot, so handsome… I honestly thought I was in love, Samantha. Can you believe it?”
I sigh. “You were tricked.”
“Back then it seemed like Mom and me were fighting nonstop…and then I'd open up my e-mail, and there would be my dream guy saying all the right things. He told me that he loved me and that he wanted to take care of me. I thought he was my answer…my escape…so stupidi”
“He lied and manipulated you.”
“But I came here of my own free will. Like a total idiot, I walked right into Colby's horrid little trap.” Then she makes this awful face, and I'm afraid she's going to throw up.
“You okay?”
She takes in a quick breath and another swig of water.”I just can't stand to say his name. It makes me want to hurl. hate him so muchi”
“Don't think about him. Just be thankful that you're okay.”
“I can't believe you guys found me.” She peers at me o curiously now. “But I don't understand why you're here, Samantha.”
“Well, you remember that my dad used to be on the police force in Brighton?” I begin, all ready with the explanation I've prepared for her.
“Yeah?”
“I'm in a special program with Detective Hamilton,” I say, which isn't untrue. “I'm sort of interning with her, and I got involved in your case.” I shrug. “I guess they thought I'd be useful since we're the same age—and friends.”
“Friends?”
“Well, we used to be friends. And I still consider myself your friend.”
She actu
ally smiles now, for the first time since we found her. “Thanks, I appreciate that. And that's cool, Samantha, about you being an intern with the police. I didn't know they had stuff like that in high school.”
“The thing is, you can't tell anyone, okay? I mean, my internship is kind of an undercover thing, and it will mess it up if anyone else knows about it.”
“Don't worry, I won't tell.” Then she begins to cry again. “There's so much I will never tell…”
“It's going to be okay. Really, Kayla, I have this strong sense that God is going to bring good out of this for you.”
She turns and looks at me with watery eyes. “I've been praying a lot, Samantha. I mean, really, really praying. About all I could do was pray.”
“Well, God was listening. He answered your prayers.”
“That's for sure,” Ebony says from the front seat. “You have no idea what a miracle it is that we found you today, Kayla.”
Tony nods. “Yep. It was a real honest-to-goodness' miracle. And you can be thanking God that you'll probably be home for Christmas too.”
“When is Christmas?” she asks.
“Tomorrow,” I say.
“Really?” She sighs. “Is it okay if I call my mom?”
“Of course,” Tony says as he pulls over to the side of the gravel road. “But that's the sheriff and emergency crew just up ahead. Let's put you into their hands first. They'll want to give you some medical treatment, and then you'll have to answer some questions and whatnot.”
“And someone from my department has already called your mom,” Ebony tells her. “She knows you're safe and that you'll be calling her soon.”
“Oh, good.”
“I asked them to call your mom too, Samantha.”
“Thanks!”
And suddenly we're swarmed by medical professionals and sheriff's officials, and Kayla is swept away with barely a chance to wave a quick good-bye. I feel stunned and slightly deflated as I watch her being ushered into the back of an ambulance by a uniformed woman. Meanwhile,
Tony seems to be giving some kind of directions to one of ft the officers.
“Will she be okay?” I ask Ebony.
“She'll be better than she's been in weeks,” Ebony says in a tired and slightly sad voice. “But it's probably going to take a fair ampunt of time and some good coun- 5” seling before she'll really be okay, Samantha. And her life will certainly never be the same again.”
I sigh, “Yeah, I know. But at least she's alive—and at least she's talking to God again. That's something.”
“She's going to need God now more than ever.”
As Tony drives us back to the hotel, I think of all that went into rescuing Kayla. All.because she made one incredibly stupid decision. It kind of blows my mind.
Oh, it's not that I regret my involvement in any of this. I don't at all! And I'm so totally thankful that we found Kayla before it was too late. But it's pretty overwhelming to think of all the effort and expense that went into this search—so many people who put their lives on hold or at risk or whatever, and on Christmas Eve too…just to rescue this one girl who made one very bad decision. It makes no sense.
“There was a shepherd who had one hundred sheep… “ The words of the old story, the one my dad used to tell at bedtime sometimes, begins to roll through my head. And I remember the parable that Jesus originally told—the one about the good shepherd who went to a great effort to search for one lost lamb. I remember how he left his other ninety-nine sheep behind and took off in the middle of the night just so that he could find that one lost lamb. And I guess that's how it was with Kayla. God loves us that much!
And like that ecstatic shepherd who threw a big party after finding his beloved lamb, and just like Jesus when He rescues just one lost person, I'd have to agree that it was worth it. Totally worth it!
Ebony and I just took off from Phoenix, and we're on our way home. I recline my chair and close my eyes. I am so ready to just kick back for a while. The flight won't arrive in Portland for a couple of hours—perfect for a nice long snooze. It looks like Ebony has the same idea. I let out a deep sigh and feel myself slipping into a state of what I hope will be comatose slumber…
Suddenly I feel a sharp bump on my elbow and look up to see the stainless steel beverage cart attempting to move past me.
“Excuse me,” says the blond flight attendant. “Your arm's in the way.”
“Sorry.” I pull in my arm and sit up straighter as I rub the spot where she ran into me. You'd think they'd be more careful with those carts. Anyway I'm wide-awake now. So much for my nap, although it looks like most of the passengers ane fast asleep. Lucky them.
I watch the flight attendant slowly work her way up the aisle, and I can't help but think that that must be a boring job. Not only that, but a lot of the passengers, particularly during the holidays, are pretty rude and impatient.
She leans over to give a dark-haired man a cup of coffee, but as he reaches for it, the little tray is bumped and hot coffee spills all over him. He instantly leaps to his feet and attempts to brush it off, and the flight attendant apologizes and r>tries to help him. She finally takes him up to the front, where I o assume she'll find a towel to dry him off. Poor guy, not only did o he get scalded, he's probably sopping wet now too.
Then just as I think it's settled down, the man grabs the flight attendant by her arm. This is turning into one serious case of flight rage. I start to nudge Ebony in case this gets out of hand, but it looks like I'm too late. The angry man now has one arm wrapped tightly around the woman's neck, and her eyes are bulging as if she can barely breathe. But worse than that, he has a knife in his other hand! It looks like he's actually threatening to kill her. All this over a cup of coffee?
“Nobody move!” he yells with a strong accent. “I have a bomb!”
Just then I hear a scream from behind us, and I look back in time to see another man running forward in the aisle. Ebony is wide-awake now and looks just as shocked as I am. I wonder if she can help, although her gun is in her checked bag. Or maybe the man moving down the aisle is an air marshal who is armed and prepared to stop this crazy thing, but then I see that this man looks Arabic as well. And in his hand is a knife!
I'm about to stick my foot into the aisle to trip him when Ebody gives me a shove from the other side. And that's when I wake up!
“Are you okay?” asks Ebony.
I blink and look at her then look around the plane. All appears perfectly normal, and everyone is still asleep. No knives, no bombs…just peace and quiet.
“Bad dream?”
I nod and take in a deep breath. “Yeah, thank goodness. It was just a dream.” Then I see the blond flight attendant up in front, and she's pouring a cup of coffee for a dark-haired guy, and suddenly I'm not sure.
Was Wjust a dream?
Discussion Guide
The book opens with what turns out to be a prophetic dream. What did you think when Samantha saw the news of the wreck that morning? What was your reaction to her dream?
Why do you think Sam wants to keep her gift a secret? What would you do in a similar situation?
Olivia Marsh is very supportive of Sam. Do you have someone like that in your life? Are you a friend like that? Explain.
Do you ever experience a “sixth sense” where you get an instinctive feeling or an intuition that later proves true?
Do you believe this gift of intuition comes from God? Why or why not?
How do you react to things that seem “supernatural”? Do you have a way to discern whether they are from God or something else? Explain.
Do you believe God gives special gifts to everone, or just to those He considers special? What gifts has He given to you?
Why do you think God gives His children spiritual gifts? What does He want us to do with them?
Do you think most people live to their fullest potential, using all the gifts that God gives? Why or why not?
List as many gifts as you can think of.
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Do you think that everything about God is explainable? Why or why not?
SO YOU WANT TO LEARN MORE ABOUT VISIONS AND DREAMS?
As Christians, we all have the Holy Spirit within us, and God speaks through His Spirit to guide us in our walk with Him. Most often, He speaks through our circumstances, changing our desires, giving us insight into Scripture, bringing the right words to say when speaking, or having another Christian speak words we need to hear. Yet God, in His sovereignty, may still choose to speak to us in a supernatural way, such as visions and dreams.
Our dreams, if they are truly of the Lord, should clearly line up with the Word and thus correctly reveal His character. We must always be very careful to test the words, interpretations of circumstances, dreams, visions, and advice that we receive. Satan wants to deceive us, and he has deceived many Christians into thinking that God is speaking when He is not. So how do we know if it's God's voice that we are actually hearing?
First we have to look at the Bible and see how and what He has spoken in the past, asking the question, Does what I'm hearing line up with who God shows Himself to be and the way He works in Scripture? Below is a list of references to dreams and visions in Scripture that will help you see what God has said about these gifts:
Genesis is full of dreams and visions! Check out some key chapters: 15, 20, 28, 31, 37, 40, 41
Deuteronomy 13:1-5
Judges 7
1 Kings 3
Jeremiah 23
Several passages in the book of Daniel
Joel 2
The book of Ezekiel has a lot of visions
There are a lot of dreams in the book of Matthew, specifically in chapters '1 and 2
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