The Surgeon: The Luke Titan Chronicles #1

by David Beers

  But now, staring at the television screen, perhaps she’d found the reason. The man standing on stage, to the left. How long had the preacher spoken about this moment? For how many years had her and Daddy (and Momma, though to a far lesser degree) prayed for worthiness, to be shown exactly what Lucy now saw?

  “Who is that?” She stood, ignoring the orderly next to her, and walked to the television, placing her hand directly on the man. “Who is he?” She looked around the room, but she saw only blank faces. “What is his name?”

  Lucy was growing angry at these people, the fact that no one would answer her.

  “His name is Christian Windsor,” another orderly said. Three more nonessentials had come into the room, ready to calm Lucy Speckle if she couldn’t do it herself. “He’s an FBI agent.”

  There, that was all she needed. Lucy stepped a few feet back from the television and stared at Christian Windsor. Even the name seemed … Godly.

  Her right eyebrow twitched upward, and her head jerked down slightly before regaining its usual place. Lucy didn’t notice.

  She stared at the screen for a long time, until the ceremony ended and the next show started. Only then did she break her concentration.

  Lucy walked to a corner in the large room and found a chair away from everyone else. She sat and thought about the man on TV.

  The next few weeks were turbulent ones for Lucy. She often found herself angry at those around her, which meant she ended up in one of those jackets that wouldn’t let her move. They called it a straightjacket. She called it ‘fucking bullshit’ (one of the few times Lucy Speckle used such language) and then she spat at the orderlies who put it on her. God didn’t like curse words, but Daddy had used them when he was mad — though he always repented.

  They were nonessentials, but she still couldn’t help the anger she felt toward them. She shouldn’t be in here, not with all the rest of these crazies. She didn’t know how long she had been here; she hadn’t been good at keeping up with time since Daddy died, but now that she had seen Christian Windsor, she knew she’d been here too long.

  No one ever visited her and that was more than fine. She didn’t want to talk with anyone. Not her family — though they all pretty much disowned Daddy decades ago. Lucy never really had any friends. She didn’t need any besides God, and He was always with her.

  Those weeks were awful, especially when locked away inside the straightjacket, because she felt God trying to speak, but she couldn’t hear Him well inside this place. It was like the walls were built with a material that kept God out. Lucy knew that couldn’t possibly be true, that the God of Abraham did whatever He wanted, when He wanted.

  Perhaps the walls simply interfered with her ability to hear Him. That made more sense.

  Either way, the result was the same. Lucy knew that the person she had seen on the television screen — Christian Windsor — was the one her and Daddy (actually, the whole church) had been searching for, but she wanted more confirmation.

  Finally, Lucy quit fighting the orderlies and doctors that came around. Just as she had realized years ago how nonessential the kids mocking her at school were, she understood that fighting these nonessentials was keeping God at bay. So, she lay down on her bed and quit caring about this ephemeral world, which was only a test from God, and one she had to rise above.

  She urinated and defecated on herself during this time. Her eyes never left the ceiling. She didn’t move at all when the orderlies came to change her clothes, her arms and legs pliable as they undressed and redressed her. Only a few more hours would pass before more bodily functions occurred, and the orderlies had to do it all again. She didn’t care; truthfully, she didn’t even notice. Lucy had gone to God. For once, she was able to do it without the instruments Daddy had given her.

  God was talking to her.

  And in the end, it was glorious, because Lucy finally understood Daddy hadn’t been lying all those years. They had been chosen, even if Daddy wasn’t here to see it. The nonessential fell away for good, leaving only room for the essential.

  And that was Christian Windsor. He was what God wanted for Lucy Speckle, what this whole hellish world had been about: to prepare her for him — God’s sword.

  You’ve started the journey. Get a step closer to finishing it in: The Priest!

  On Purpose and Other Things

  Thanks for reading, and I mean that wholeheartedly. I love telling stories and without you, that wouldn’t be possible.

  I know at the end of books, a lot of writers offer you something free if you sign-up for their mailing list. What they’re doing, essentially, is buying your email address.

  I don’t want to do that.

  I think having a purpose in life is important. It adds clarity and meaning to what you do. I’m lucky to know mine and that purpose dictates my life: I’m here to tell stories. Nothing else even comes close to the happiness this job gives me.

  With that said, if you like reading my novels and want to know when the next book comes out, sign-up below. No tricks. No buying your address. Just me telling stories and you enjoying them.

  The way these relationships should work.

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