Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel)

by Rubart, James L.

  Dana’s head snapped back. “It can’t be. That can’t be true. It’s a lie.”

  “No, it is true,” Brandon muttered.

  “Do you think it’s true, Reece? What do you believe, Temple?”

  “No, I won’t believe that . . .” The words sounded like Reece spoke underwater and he gasped for air as he pushed his thoughts out. “I believe this voice lies. I believe all that we see here is deception. I believe we have the power to take these thoughts of evil captive to the obedience of Christ.”

  The voice of the stocky man spoke again. “Pretending doesn’t make things real. We told you before you went in that if you chose wrong, you would be separated from everything and everyone you’ve loved, forever. There was no deception on our part. You chose this destiny for yourselves. Now you must live with the consequences of your decision.”

  Dana sank to her knees. Her fault. They would stay here forever because of her. Despair buried her and tears came. She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, but at some point Reece’s voice reached her. “‘And who shall separate us from the love of Christ?’”

  She raised her head and opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. But Dana refused to surrender and she pushed the words out as if lifting a massive stone off her chest. “‘Neither death nor life.’”

  “‘And who shall separate us from the love of Christ?’” Reece repeated slightly louder.

  “‘Neither angels nor demons,’” Dana said, the words more easily sliding off her tongue.

  “‘And who shall separate us from the love of Christ?’”

  “‘Neither the present nor the future.’”

  “‘And who shall separate us from the love of Christ?’” Reece’s voice went up another notch.

  This time Brandon answered. “‘Nor any powers.’”

  “‘And who shall separate us from the love of Christ?’” The big man was almost shouting now.

  “‘Neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’”

  “The voice lies.” Reece’s voice sounded out like a clock striking midnight, and the thick, constrictive air around Dana loosened. “Though we stay here forever, the unquenchable love of the Trinity will never leave us.” Reece paused and she heard laughter in his voice. “‘Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.’”

  Nothing changed in what Dana could see, and her feet were still mired in whatever she stood upon, but inside a peace grew till she knew if her face could be seen by the others it would be radiant.

  She closed her eyes. “‘Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? . . . No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.’”

  Dana repeated the verses and halfway through Reece joined in. The third time through, all three of them spoke the scriptures with power. As they began the verse for the sixth time, a light the size of a needle point appeared. So small yet so bright in the midst of the darkness it seemed like she stood right in front of a massive lighthouse, its mirrors throwing off a million beams of light. The pinprick of brightness grew to the size of a spotlight, then the light was a torrent, a giant vortex pulling them forward, drawing them into its tunnel.

  The instant Dana passed the edge of the tunnel, a feeling of joy and power and love surged through her. Laughter broke from her mouth and she spun and raced through the light at a trillion miles an hour, and still she wanted to go faster.

  Their speed slowed and the light parted in the middle of the tunnel, and they were now flying over a series of vast mountain ranges far taller than Mount Everest, then down into valleys that reminded Dana of Hawaii, but these valleys were far wilder, the greens deeper, the churning of the waterfalls much whiter, and the rivers running through them more powerful.

  Their speed slowed more and she looked at a mountain maybe a mile away, far below them. As they came closer, Dana spotted two dots on a ledge about halfway up the mountain that morphed into men, and then into Marcus and a man surrounded by a thin, swirling curtain of darkness.

  She didn’t need the Spirit to tell her they were about to go to war.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  “I’VE CHOSEN.” AS MARCUS SPOKE, A THIN SMILE GREW ON the man’s face. “I will release the Warriors, let them go. I can rebuild with them. I can’t give up Kat or the girls . . . and to have Layne back . . .” The words tumbled out of Marcus’s mouth as if they were tiny lead anchors, but even after he spoke them, his jaw still seemed to be weighed down.

  “Excellent.” The man clapped Marcus on the back and pointed behind him. “This is so good. I’m so happy for you. It will only be moments now till you’re with them in that valley forever.”

  The man wrapped his fist in the palm of his other hand. “You’ve chosen the right pill this time.”

  “What?” Marcus frowned at the man. Was he quoting from—?

  “Yes, Professor, I’m quoting from The Matrix. Some choose the blue pill, some choose the red. You know that scene by heart.”

  He did. It flashed into his mind fully formed and he saw Neo taking the red pill and turning his world into insanity and pain and great triumph and truth. Red pill. Blue pill. Red cards. Blue cards. Red backs, blue backs. Simon! The magician’s words rushed into his mind. “He doesn’t play fair. Every choice is his. Every choice leads to death.”

  Neo had chosen the truth. Marcus fell onto his knees, his hands and arms limp at his sides. And he, Marcus Amber, was about to choose a lie. He was about to insert himself into a world that would lobotomize his memory and bury the lie so far down, it could never be dug up, but that was a lie too.

  It didn’t matter if Kat would never know. It didn’t matter if even he himself couldn’t remember it. It had happened. It was real. It was true. And nothing could wipe that out of existence. He stared at the man, his breaths came more rapidly, his hands formed into fists.

  “Is there a problem?” The man eased toward Marcus.

  “You can turn the backs of the cards whatever color you want to, can’t you? It’s your game and I can’t win. The blue pill is the way of the lie.”

  “No, Marcus, it is the way of salvation for you, for your daughters, for your wife, and for Layne.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am your friend. And it’s time for you to go.” He glanced at something over Marcus’s shoulder. “And if you don’t go, I will help you for I am truly a man who desires the best for you.” His eyes grew darker.

  Marcus’s heart pounded and perspiration seeped down his back. “I’ve allowed my eyes to be blinded.” He stood and stepped back from the oncoming man.

  “If you don’t follow through on your decision, just like Reece, your eyes truly will be blinded.” The man glanced over Marcus’s head and reached out his hand as if he were about to grab Marcus around the neck. “Be it your choice or not, you will . . .”

  The last of the man’s words were drowned out as a flash of light and the sound of boulders smashing together filled the air. The concussion of sound thrust Marcus back and he slammed into the cliff wall. When he regained his balance, he looked up and found himself staring into the dirt- and blood-smeared faces of Reece, Dana, and Brandon.

  Brandon strode forward and grabbed him in a firm hug. “It’s good to see you, Professor. I hope you haven’t been bored since we last saw you. We haven’t been.”

  “I apologize for taking so long, Marcus.” Reece riveted his gaze on the man and spoke in a low voice. “Leave. Now, Zennon. In the name of the Christ.”

  “Hello, Reece, it’s wonderful to see you. So sorry to disappoint, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  The demon stared at Reece, his eyes on fire, the veins in his head and arms pulsing. “You think you can control me? Tell me to leave with a simple sentence? No, Reece Roth. You have no power over me. Not here. Not in this place. Or have you forgotten what happ
ened eleven months ago?” Zennon tapped his skin next to his right eye.

  He grinned and stepped toward Reece and the others, his feet stopping with each step as if a great weight were wrapped around his ankles. “This is my domain, not yours. Your simple religious phrases are no help here.”

  “You have spoken truth. I have no power worth speaking of in this place or any place on heaven or earth or any other realm. But the authority I have in every place because of the Spirit that lives within me is far beyond your ability to fight. Go. By the blood of the Lamb, by the Son of the Creator of the heavens and the earth, and by the authority that rules the universe.”

  The demon kept coming but Reece didn’t move.

  “Really? You truly aspire to that belief? And when I reach out seconds from now and draw my finger across your heart and destroy more than your eyes this time, what will you believe?”

  Another heavy step and the cliff seemed to tremble with the weight of the demon’s foot. “I feel it.” A guttural laugh sputtered out of Zennon’s throat. “The fear racing up your legs into your torso and into your mind. Yes, embrace the fear, Reece, embrace the truth of my power over you.”

  Their leader shuddered and his brilliant blue eyes blinked again and again.

  “I will have mercy on you and your friends. I will allow you and the others to live if you leave this place now, but I will not make this offer again.” The air around them grew hot.

  Reece staggered back two steps and glanced at Marcus, Brandon, and Dana. Fear and strength were both reflected in Reece’s eyes, but the strength seemed to flicker like a dying TV.

  “The panic growing inside you is the truth.” Zennon was now only five feet from Reece. “Make your choice. Leave or Die. I suggest you choose wisely.” The demon turned and smiled at Marcus as the air around them grew hotter.

  Marcus turned back to Reece. “He’s right. Choose wisely. Choose truth.”

  Brandon stared at Marcus, the musician’s face an odd mix of fear and confusion and wonder and risk as if something inside wanted to burst out, but Brandon wasn’t sure if he wanted it to. Brandon’s hands balled into fists—he closed his eyes and lifted his head to the heavens. He pulled in a long breath and held it.

  A moment later Brandon opened his eyes and stared straight at the demon. He began to hum, a high lilting melody that couldn’t have been more than four or five notes but somehow sounded like it was made up of thousands of crystals ringing out amid a soft wind.

  T he demon rose up, seeming to grow three inches taller, and growled. “Desist, Brandon Scott—before I rip your throat out.”

  Brandon sang it again, louder, and his voice didn’t sound like the voice of a man but that of an instrument made of water and glass and air and forest. Reece grinned at Brandon. “Nice to have you back, Brandon.” Then he stepped toward the demon, who stopped, labored breaths pouring out of his mouth. “More. You are the Song.”

  Brandon grinned and joy spread across his face like a boy getting his first baseball glove. It was the first time he’d sung since his surgery, and the doubt Marcus saw moments earlier was gone.

  Brandon glanced at each of them and his eyes shone with the knowledge his voice had been fully restored in the physical realm and that its power was even more potent here. He was the Song, and the music poured out of him like it was the last time he would ever sing.

  Brandon raised his hands high and the melody grew louder and more complex and somehow out of his mouth poured melody and harmonies that seemed to sweep around them in tighter and tighter circles. The demon’s eyes grew darker—if that were possible—and he lifted a shuddering hand toward Brandon as if to crush his throat.

  “No.” Reece spoke the word in a whisper, then again louder. “No.” The third time it was a shout that reverberated off the mountain like a cannon shot. “No!”

  The big man stepped toward the demon, lightning in his eyes. “By the power of his resurrection and ascension, we come against you and your lies and the poison you’ve tried to spread. By the name of the King of all, Jesus Christ, I command you to leave!”

  A low guttural scream came out of the demon. “This is not over. It will never be—!” Zennon vanished. There was no sound, no flash of light, and nothing left behind. A hawk cried far above them and the air cooled in seconds. Marcus slumped to the ground.

  “I almost made a profoundly poor choice.” A chill raced down Marcus’s back as he stared at the valley he’d almost vanished into.

  “As did I,” Reece said. He stepped to the edge of the cliff and stared down at the valleys. “Forgive me, Marcus.”

  “For what?”

  “For allowing this to happen. For letting my selfishness send you here.”

  Marcus clasped Reece’s hands in both of his. “It’s over. Forgiven. There was purpose in it.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Dana said. Brandon, Reece, and she joined hands, but the professor held up a finger and walked to the edge of the cliff and stared down into the valleys below.

  “Marcus?”

  He turned, his heart heavy. “I have been rescued in this moment, but it doesn’t change the future. I’m still faced with a choice I don’t want to make. One I feel must be made soon.”

  “What is the choice?” Brandon asked.

  “If I’m going to tell Kat.”

  “Tell her what?”

  Marcus didn’t answer, and he had no doubt his eyes told them not to ask again.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  “WHEW. THAT WAS A RIDE ON THE FAR SIDE OF EXTREME.” Brandon squeezed his legs as if he were feeling them for the first time. “Kinda, sorta, extremely glad that pup is over.” His body felt like lead, and if he were home in his bed he had no doubt he could crash for twelve hours without moving. The workout they’d just completed in the spiritual realm had been fully absorbed into his physical body.

  “It’s not over.” Reece lurched to his feet and strode away from the fire pit toward the back of his house as if the experience hadn’t affected him at all.

  Brandon slowly rose from the bench, Dana stood, and they followed. For a guy who couldn’t see, Reece moved fast. Not over? Brandon felt like they’d just finished sudden-death overtime in the Super Bowl and they weren’t done?

  He broke into a sluggish jog till he caught up with Reece. “Care to expand on what ‘not over’ means?”

  “Yes, as soon as the four of us are together. I want to make sure the professor is okay.”

  The three of them reached Reece’s back door together and if Brandon didn’t know better, he’d swear the big man was seeing again. He reached for the door handle without hesitation and pushed through.

  “Marcus?” Reece called the professor’s name twice before he got an answer.

  “I’m here.”

  Brandon slogged into the living room and stared at Marcus. His complexion was paler than usual, but other than that the professor looked well. “You’re all right, Prof?”

  “I’m good.”

  He stood, then sat back down on the couch his body had been lying on for almost five hours. Marcus breathed like he’d just finished a marathon. Good, Brandon wasn’t the only one ready for a break.

  “It will take an abundance of time to process the complexity and spiritual implications of what I just experienced, but yes, I truly am well.”

  “Regretfully, for all of us, there isn’t any time for processing.” Reece stood like a statue, his long arms folded across his chest.

  Marcus gazed up at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s two of us, bro.” Brandon eased over next to the professor.

  A voice rang out from above them. “It’s time to go after the Wolf in the heavens, Marcus.”

  Doug eased down the stairs and came to a stop next to Reece.

  “Now?” Brandon said. He glanced at Dana. Her eyes told him she wondered the same thing.

  The professor looked down, then raised his head slowly. “It’s not.”

  “It is,” Dou
g said. “I’ve never heard more clearly from the Spirit. The time is now. I believe Reece agrees.”

  Marcus shook his head. “Proceeding into that course of action is not a path I’m able to take.”

  “I realize you’ve been through a harrowing journey and need time to analyze what has happened.” Reece lumbered toward Marcus. “I realize what we all just came out of has exhausted us physically and emotionally as well as spiritually. But there isn’t time for recovery right now. You don’t think you have it in you to enter immediately into another battle, but you do. You have the strength, Professor, his strength.”

  Marcus shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant to indicate.” He rubbed his hair. “Confronting the Wolf is not my path.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not to go in with you and the other Warriors.”

  “It’s the path for all of those of the prophecy.” Reece took a step forward, his arms still folded. “We cannot do this without you. The Spirit has told me more than once that you are the key to victory over the Wolf. That without you, we are lost.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Reece turned. “Dana? Brandon? Am I missing something here?”

  Brandon hesitated before answering. Missing something? Yeah. Any hint of sanity. Reece and Doug wanted them to go after the Wolf right now? After what each of them had been through? Brandon was at the point of collapse. Dana had to be as well. But it didn’t seem that way when she spoke.

  “I think Reece and Doug might be right. I feel like Jesus told me the same thing. The time to go after the Wolf is now. Believe me, I don’t want to, but I have little doubt of what we are to do.” She turned to Brandon and stared at him for several seconds before speaking again. “Brandon, have you asked the Spirit? If yes, what has he said?”