by Bill Myers
But, like most people, they had erred in assuming that multiple killers were ignorant animals with underdeveloped mental skills. After all, here he sat—ribs taped, nose broken, one eye still swollen shut. How could somebody like this possibly be an intellectual equal? Unfortunately, neither of them had taken into account an inmate’s worst enemy: time. Next to sleeping, the best killers of time were reading, writing, and learning the skills of fellow prisoners. Whether it was the careful, step-by-step procedure for making a bomb, courtesy of Hector Garcia, or the intricate nuances of the Nebraska legal system, garnered from the books in the prison library, years of reading and listening had sharpened Michael Coleman’s intellect to a razor’s edge. Then, of course, there was the psychological gamesmanship he’d acquired in running the Row. All this to say, that in less than half an hour, he had reduced Murkoski, the boy genius, into an agitated knot of frustration.
The kid was flailing; O’Brien decided to step in. “Mr. Coleman. Regarding the identity of the blood. We can only say that it is extremely old, and that—”
“‘A couple thousand years,’ you said.”
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“Yes, but—”
“So how were you able to keep it from disintegrating? And don’t tell me you found it inside some mosquito embalmed in tree sap. I saw that movie, too.”
O’Brien took a long breath, but before he could answer, Murkoski jumped back into the fray. The kid never gave up.
“The blood was sealed in candle wax. A small section of vine with fragments of bloodstained thorns was encased in the substance. We suspect it was revered as some sort of religious artifact for centuries. Kept on an altar where dripping candles inadvertently covered and sealed a portion of it.”
“And what altar would that be?”
“Pardon me?”
“Where?”
“The southern deserts of Egypt. A monastery. The same one that claims to house St. Mark’s bones.”
“How convenient.”
“No, it wasn’t convenient. Not at all, Mr. Coleman.”
Murkoski’s voice rose, trembling. “A lot of people risked their lives to bring it to us, and if you’re not interested in helping, then we’ll find somebody who is. In case you don’t know, there are three thousand other inmates on death row.”
Coleman opened his hands and closed them quietly. “Three thousand twenty-six. Perhaps you should contact one of them.”
Murkoski blinked. Coleman had just called his bluff. Of all the nerve. Murkoski appeared livid, but O’Brien was more impressed than angry. Coleman had no idea how many months they’d researched him, nor the time constraints they were now working under. And yet he’d uncovered Murkoski’s vulnerable underside, pressed all his buttons, and taken control of the conversation—in record time. The man was far more clever than they had imagined.
O’Brien cleared his throat and tried again. “Mr.
Coleman—whoever’s blood it is, and we can’t say for certain, we do know that this individual had a genetic makeup slightly different from the rest of us.” He could feel Coleman’s eyes searching him, looking for a crevice, for a weakness to take hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 345
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hold of. But he held Coleman’s stare and kept his voice even as he went into the details. “Human DNA molecules consist of over six billion base pairs. If strung out in a line, that’s enough to stretch to the moon and back 16,000 times. In the ancient blood sample we have, most of those have not survived. But what portions we do have, those that have remained intact, have proven quite interesting.”
“How?”
This was the hard part. The part O’Brien rarely shared. But it was Coleman’s body they were asking to experiment on, and it was certainly his right to know. “As far as we’ve been able to tell, the blood contains all the usual maternal genes, but there are some fairly unusual genes we’ve discovered on the male side.”
Coleman raised an eyebrow, waiting for more.
Murkoski moved in. “Certainly a man of your intelligence knows about X and Y chromosomes?” It was a patronizing question, and it was met only by Coleman’s silence. Murkoski continued. “Two X’s together make a female, while an X and Y
chromosome determines a male?”
More silence.
“The X chromosome carries up to five thousand genes, while the lowly Y chromosome, that which makes us men, contains only a little over a dozen. So far science has only determined the function of one of those dozen-plus genes, the one that tells the embryo to develop testes instead of ovaries. The remaining male genes appear totally useless.”
“Until now,” O’Brien corrected. “We don’t know how or why, but for some reason the portion of those Y genes that we were able to recover from the blood have a totally different makeup than any other male gene.”
“Meaning?”
Murkoski leapt to the punch line. “Whoever’s blood this was could not have had a human father.”
Silence settled over the room. O’Brien watched Coleman.
Not a muscle moved. Murkoski, on the other hand, leaned back in his chair, obviously assured that the playing field had once again been tilted to his advantage.
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The silence continued. O’Brien coughed slightly, then resumed. “Most of these new genes still appear useless, but one in particular has stood out. When it is introduced into other organisms—when we replicate it in the blood of say, mice, the creatures’ behavioral patterns shift dramatically.”
Coleman’s voice grew strangely quiet. “You’ve done this with other animals?”
“Yes. Mice first, then more recently primates.”
“And?”
“The mortality rate has been higher than we’d like, but for those who have survived, the results have been staggering.”
Murkoski continued. “They are no longer concerned with what’s best for themselves. Instead of focusing on their own needs, they act in a manner that’s best for their community.”
Coleman sat motionless. Although he didn’t take his eyes off the men, it was obvious that wheels were silently turning.
Unable to endure any silence for too long, Murkoski continued. “And now we’re ready to take the next step. To introduce this blood into a human being.”
A flicker of a scowl crossed Coleman’s face.
Murkoski didn’t appear to notice. “There are no promises,”
he said. “The process could kill you. Or it could turn you into a lunatic or some type of mental vegetable. But if the experiment succeeds, think of the ramifications.” His voice rose slightly as his excitement grew. “We would be able to rid our society, our entire race, of its violence and aggression. Our tendency toward evil would be totally eliminated. We would create world peace. Nirvana. Heaven on earth.”
Coleman’s voice remained quiet. “You’re playing God.
You’re changing how we’re made.”
Murkoski shook his head. “No. We’re merely accelerating the evolutionary process within our species. Some insects are already doing this, bees for instance. Several varieties commit suicide by stinging an intruder to save the community in their hive. Some birds risk their lives by warning if a hawk or other predator is in the area. There’s little doubt that our own species has already begun that evolutionary step—elevating the com-hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 347
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munity over the individual. We’re merely picking up the pace a little, that’s all. Doing in a few months what would take evolution thousands of years to accomplish.”
Another pause. “Why me?”
“You’re scheduled for execution in six weeks. The Eighth Circuit has already denied your appeal. That just leaves the U.S.
Supreme Court and the Appeals Board.”
Coleman gave no reply.
Murkoski was once again taking charge. “If you agree to participate, and if you survive, y
ou have our guarantee that the governor of the state of Nebraska will commute your sentence to life.”
For the first time, Coleman showed expression.
“Mr. Coleman,” Murkoski continued, “we have contacts in very high places.”
Coleman held Murkoski’s gaze. He’d been in the penal system long enough to know that, with enough clout, anything was possible. He sat for nearly a minute. Finally, he rose to his feet. The meeting was over. The decision made.
“No,” was all he said.
Murkoski sat stunned. “What do you mean, no? We’re offering you your only hope.”
“Walking the yard as some do-gooder holy man is not hope. I wouldn’t last a week. No, if you want my cooperation, the deal is you get me a pardon.”
There was no hiding the incredulity in Murkoski’s voice.
“How do you expect us to do that?”
“You’re the hotshot player here. If you’ve got the power to pull the governor’s strings for clemency, you’ve got the clout to pull a little harder and get me out.”
Murkoski rose to his feet. “Listen, pal, we’re offering you your life. Who do you think you are, trying to negotiate with us?”
“I’m a nobody, son. But apparently a nobody you need.”
He turned, rapped on the eight-inch square of bulletproof glass in the door, and a guard instantly appeared. “Thanks for stopping by.”
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A moment later, Murkoski and O’Brien stood alone in the room, Murkoski in shock, O’Brien in quiet amazement. Coleman wasn’t only smart, he was also a high roller. He’d just taken control of the game, upped the ante, and escalated the stakes to double or nothing. The man was either very foolish or very, very fearless. O’Brien suspected the latter. And if they intended on using him, he knew at that moment that they’d better be careful. Very careful.
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D O N ’ T M I S S B I L L M Y E R S ’ S
F I R E O F H E A V E N T R I L O G Y
Blood of Heaven
Mysterious blood has been found on the remains of an ancient religious artifact. Some believe it is the blood of Christ. And experi-ments with specific genes from the blood have brought surprising findings. Now it’s time to introduce those genes into a human.
Enter Michael Coleman: multiple killer, death row resident…and, if he is willing, human guinea pig. There are no promises. The effects may kill Coleman or completely destroy his sanity.
Follow Michael through the pages of this carefully researched science and psychological thriller that looks deep into the heart of man. Meet for the first time Katherine and Eric Lyon, the spell-binding characters from Fire of Heaven.
Blood of Heaven
Softcover 0-310-20119-5 Audio Pages 0-310-21053-4
Threshold
Some say Brandon Martus has a mysterious ability to see into the future, to experience what scientists refer to as a “higher dimension.”
Others insist he is simply a troubled Genera-tion-X member plagued by the accidental death of his little sister. It isn’t until he teams up with Sarah Weintraub, the ambitious neurologist, that a far deeper secret unfolds.
Utilizing the latest discoveries in brain research and quantum physics, the two carefully wind their way through a treacherous maze of human greed and supernatural encounters that are both legitimate and counterfeit—until they finally discover the astonishing truth about Brandon Martus.
This book takes you from the mountains of Nepal to the heart-land of America, through the deceptions of hell and into the hands of Jesus Christ, in a carefully researched, thought-provoking, and thoroughly electrifying journey.
Threshold
Softcover 0-310-20120-9 Audio Pages 0-310-21571-4
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Fire of Heaven
In this riveting sequel to Blood of Heaven and Threshold, Brandon Martus and Sarah Weintraub follow God’s calling—right into danger.
This is not another end-times thriller, but one of the most intense and thought-provoking pieces of Christian fiction to come along in years. As the couple prepare for the final show-down against Satan himself, they must live and proclaim the truths Christ has given his end-times church. From America to Jerusalem, Brandon and Sarah battle the forces of man and hell while learning the true cost of following Christ.
Follow Brandon and Sarah as they learn the importance of their God-given calling and struggle to fulfill what they are to do, all the while battling supernatural evil and forces beyond their control.
“I couldn’t put Fire of Heaven down. Bill Myers’s writing is crisp, fast-paced, provocative, and laced headily with Scripture.
A very compelling story.”
—Francine Rivers
Pick up your copy today at your local bookstore!
Fire of Heaven
Softcover 0-310-21738-5
Audio Pages 0-310-23002-0
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N O V E L L A S
Then Comes Marriage
Angela Hunt and Bill Myers
Lovingly crafted, Then Comes Marriage is a delightful novella filled with fond memories for seasoned couples, and wisdom and encouragement for newlyweds.
Hardcover 0-310-23016-0
Audio Pages, Then Comes Marriage/
Seaside 0-310-23464-6
When the Last Leaf Falls
Bill Myers
(Available September 2001)
Talented storyteller, Bill Myers, enhances and updates a storyline from The Last Leaf, written by one of the masters, O. Henry, and brings to light the awesome power of love and sacrifice.
Hardcover 0-310-23091-8
Audio Pages, When the Last Leaf Falls/
The Faded Flower 0-310-24046-8
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A B O U T T H E P U B L I S H E R
Founded in 1931, Grand Rapids, Michigan-based Zondervan, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, is the leading international Christian communications company, producing best-selling Bibles, books, new media products, a growing line of gift products, and award-winning children’s products. The world’s largest Bible publisher, Zondervan (www.zondervan.com) holds exclusive publishing rights to the N ew International Version of the Bible and has distributed more than 150 million copies world-wide. It is also one of the top Christian publishers in the world, selling its award-winning books through Christian retailers, general market bookstores, mass merchandisers, specialty retailers, and the Internet. Zondervan has received a total of 68 Gold Medallions awards for its books, more than any other publisher.
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