“Keep me informed. I want to be there when she is executed. Call the press. I can hop on a plane and be there within two hours.”
“Yes, sir.” A huge, impenetrable lump swelled in Thomas's throat. Breaking Deviants or sending them to their deaths had been the main focus of his job the past two years. And he’d been good at it. He’d rid the world of hundreds of them, making it a safer place, a world of progress and peace. Yet they kept multiplying somehow. He could make no sense of it. What was the lure to follow a God with endless rules and regulations when it would only get you killed?
“You have an hour, Thomas. One hour. I want this finished quickly.” The phone clicked off before Thomas had a chance to say anything else. Setting it down on his desk, he opened a drawer, grabbed his bottle of Five Malt Bourbon Whiskey and took a long drink.
Heat spread though him as he waited for the expected numbness to encase his heart. It never came. He took another sip and another and another.Crap. He felt no better. Certainly not calmer, nor able to make the horrible decision set before him.
Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes for a minute, suddenly wishing he had some higher power to pray to, someone who cared and could help. He laughed. No doubt the alcohol was affecting his reason.
???
Arithem folded arms across his powerful chest, watching his ward make one bad decision after another. ’Twas not like he wasn’t used to disappointment when it came to this particular son of Adam, but he had to admit, he oft wondered why the Commander had him remain on task. There’d been no enemy attacks to ward off, no demons to battle, no messages to give, no sustenance to provide. Arithem felt useless, and he didn’t like feeling that way. Especially when there was so much to do, so many worthy tasks to perform for the Kingdom of God.
Now, when faced with a pivotal decision, one that could affect his eternal soul, Thomas turned to alcohol, instead of to the only One who had all the answers. The liquor would only inhibit him from thinking clearly and rationally, from hearing from the Commander, and worse, it created openings for even more demonic beings to flood his already saturated body.
Still, Arithem could only stand by and watch as the dark shadows mocked him before they entered his ward. He’d grown accustomed to it with this one.
His one and only hope was that someday he would have a chance to battle these wicked spirits and thus wipe the grins from their evil lips. The Commander had told him such a battle would occur, though He’d withheld the outcome.
Regardless, Arithem must be ready. For there was much at stake—this son of Adam’s eternal soul.
I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.
Galatians 2:20
Chapter 4
Tori was not surprised when an hour later two guards crashed into the interrogation room, unlocked her shackles from the floor hooks, handcuffed her, and yanked her to her feet. Neither was she surprised when they led her down a narrow hall in the opposite direction from her cell. Thomas had made his decision. She was to be executed. Rather than fear, all she felt was pity…along with incredible sorrow for him. Her heart had taken a blow seeing him again, but even more so knowing that if he didn’t repent and turn to Jesus, he’d spend eternity in hell. Alternatively, in just a little while, she’d be escorted to her heavenly home to see her Savior, her Prince, and the One whom her soul loved more than anyone. She grew excited with each step.
No doubt they’d make a spectacle of her and there might even be some pain. A spark of fear tightened her nerves, but she doused it with a simple prayer. “Not my will, but yours be done.” Wasn’t that what Jesus had said in the garden of Gethsemane before He was crucified? The pain and suffering He’d endured for all mankind eclipsed any of man’s pain since. And whatever they threw at her, she could endure it because her Father was with her.
The guard to her right released her and stopped to wave his hand over a door. The lock clanked. He opened it, and Tori stepped outside to the most gorgeous night she’d seen in a long while. A half-moon smiled at her as if it were proud of the splatter of twinkling diamonds spread across a black velvet sky. A rare sight these days with all the smoke, pollution, and chemicals that often made things too hazy to see. So engrossed in the beauty, she tripped over a rock.
“Watch where you’re going!” The guard to her left uttered a curse and wrenched her forward onto the courtyard where prisoners were allowed fifteen minutes a day. Fifteen minutes to see the sky, smell the air, feel the sun on their faces. Surrounding the compound, a tall fence, topped with electric barbwire reminded her she was a prisoner. Yet, in body only.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
One of the guards, a young burly man, spat to the side. “You’re a special one, you are. You get the privilege of being crucified for all the world to see.”
Tori gulped. Did Thomas hate her that much? Fear began to spearhead its way into her heart. Not the best way to die.
The other guard, gray haired with a hefty paunch, laughed. “Just like the God you worship. What an honor.”
Oddly, the man’s taunting words spread a blanket of peace over Tori, smothering her fear. Yes, itwasan honor, a great honor to die as her Savior had.Please give me strength, Lord.
This is not to be your end.
The words filled her thoughts. She recognized that voice. It was her Savior’s. “Thank you,” she whispered into the night air.
“Did you hear that, Frank?” the first guard said. “She’s thanking us for crucifying her. That’s a first.”
“Crazy Deviant,” the other remarked, adding a vile string of more colorful adjectives.
They led her through another door, down a hallway, lit by blinking fluorescent lights, and then into another room, windowless, with one bench against the far wall. “You’ll wait here until the Regent arrives. He wants to conduct your crucifixion.” He shoved her onto the bench, locked her ankle shackles onto the floor hooks, and then promptly backhanded her across the cheek.
Pain radiated over her face and down her neck. Something warm trickled from her lips as the taste of blood filled her mouth.
The other guard laughed.
