Kyle wasn’t sure what to expect when he approached the one-way mirror that made up the front wall of Thomas's cell. Maybe a man weeping, trembling, or pacing at the thought of his horrifying death in just a few hours, maybe even on his knees praying to his God for mercy and rescue. But what he saw instead was a man with upraised hands, smile on his face, tears pouring down his cheeks, singing.Singing?
Leaning on his crutch, Kyle pressed the button that allowed him to hear into the soundproof room.
“Praise the name of Jesus! Praise the name of Jesus. You’re my rock. You’re my fortress. You’re my deliverer. In You do I trust!”
Kyle snapped the sound off, more baffled than he’d ever been. For several minutes, he could only stand and stare dumbfounded at the man who faced an agonizing death praising the God who was allowing it, who caused it! He should walk away. The fear had obviously driven Thomas mad, and there was no sense in talking to a crazy man.
But something kept him there, moved his hand over the door lock and even pushed him inside.Something, because Kyle didn’t remember making a conscious decision to do any of those things.
“Sergeant Cruz!” Thomas lowered his hands and swiped the moisture from his face. “What a nice surprise.”
No sarcasm, no snarkiness infiltrated his tone, but a genuine joy at seeing Kyle.
Crazy. Yup. The man was nuts.
The door clanked shut, echoing through the tiny room that consisted of a cot, a blanket, and a toilet.
“Why are you singing?” Kyle asked.
Thomas smiled. “Because I’m free. I’m saved, and I’m going home.” He waved his arms around as if he were in a palace not a prison.
Kyle snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not going home. You’re going to the grave.”
“Exactly.” Thomas gestured toward his cot. “It’s not much, but it’s all I can offer you to sit on.”
“Why?” Kyle asked.
Thomas raised his brows. “I don’t suppose you’re asking about the cot, right?” He laughed, then grew serious, studying Kyle. “You want to know why I wouldn’t bow to Aali and take his mark. Why I purposely signed my own death warrant. Is that it?”
Kyle nodded. “I just don’t get it. You said we both want the same things, but you’re throwing all those things away. And for what? Some bully God.”
“He’s not a bully, Kyle. He’s everything!” He raised his hands again and lifted his face to the ceiling. “He’s our Creator, our Friend, our Father, our Companion, our Protector, Provider, and most of all, Savior.”
Kyle narrowed his eyes. “They brainwashed you. Tori and the rest.”
“No. They led me to the truth. Don’t you see?” Excitement flared in Thomas's eyes. “I was the one brainwashed… by the world, the culture, Aali, and all our leaders, by religion, by our enemy Lucifer. He is the author of lies, confusion, pain, and death. He is the evil one, Kyle. He wants to drag us to hell.”
“Hell.” Kyle huffed. “Like there is such a place.”
“There is. And there’s a heaven too. And that’s why I’m singing. Because I know where I’m going. My Savior died for me so that I could be there with Him.” Thomas took a step toward him. “And you can too, Kyle.”
???
Arithem could hardly contain his joy. “Behold, he is but a babe in our Lord, and yet already he is a fisher of men!”
“And he fishes for my ward! God be praised!” Zhaviel thrust his club in the air.
Arithem drew his blade just in case. “Still, see how he listens to the demons, he entertains their lies.”
“Aye,” Zhaviel sighed. “He sits upon the edge of eternity, and there is naught we can do to push him in the right direction.”
“Nay, but be on the alert. Thomas uses the weapons the Almighty has given him, the Word of God and the name of the Commander.” Arithem nodded proudly, then glanced back at Thomas. “He sees us. Observe how he smiles our way.”
???
Limping backward, Kyle gripped the handle of the Glock he’d stuffed in his belt.
“Do you think I would hurt you?” Thomas laughed. “I’m trying to save you.” He retreated, staring and smiling at something on his left.
