Her eyes started to droop.
Hard to remember that she was recovering from a gunshot wound she never received.
A shoe scuffed in the hallway.
Zander tightened his grip on the gun still hanging from his free right hand.
Not that he expected trouble, but they had just brought down the head of the Alma Negra. There could be some fallout from that.
A short, round man in a white coat entered, his thick glasses perched on a small nose. “Good. You’re awake. I’m Doctor Harris. How are you feeling?”
“Great.” Elly turned to look at the doctor, a tired smile on her face. “A little fatigued, but that will pass.”
The doctor picked up her chart but didn’t open it. “I must admit Ms. Levi, that you’ve mystified us. Aside from the flesh wound on your arm, you don’t have a mark on you, yet your body is responding as if it suffered intense physical trauma.”
Wouldn’t he be surprised to learn the truth?
“This happens to me sometimes. I assure you, all I need is rest. I’ll be fine in another day or two.”
The doctor stared at her. “Do you have any medical conditions, like anemia or hyperthyroidism, that could account for that?”
“No. I just get run down sometimes.”
“Hmmm. Well, we’d like to keep you a little longer to run some tests. To make sure everything is okay.”
A yawn overtook Elly as her eyelids drooped.
Man, she was fading fast.
“It’s really not necessary.” Even her voice suddenly sounded tired, the words drawn out, with little pauses in between.
The doctor pulled a needle from his pocket, as well as a few vials. “I’m going to draw a little blood, then you can take a nap.”
Elly didn’t protest as he inserted the needle.
The vial filled with crimson.
Well, her blood looked normal. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but he wouldn’t have been too surprised to find that it looked different.
Finishing the task, the doctor ordered rest and left the room.
“What happened at Tranquility? After God healed Rafe?” Elly’s voice was softer than before, her head resting back against the pillows as if holding it up took too much effort.
“We got them. We arrested Celestine Montoya, as well as about a dozen of her guys. We found sixty-nine people being held against their will and social services is currently working to help them.”
Not to mention the fifty kilos of cocaine they’d seized, but he didn’t think Elly cared too much about that.
No, Elly was all about the people.
“Why couldn’t you heal Monica?” The question had dogged him since the incident at the penthouse yesterday. Maybe now he’d find some closure.
Not that he was complaining. If she’d healed Monica, she probably would’ve been too weak to help Rafe.
Thanks to her, Rafe was fine.
No, thanks to God. She was just God’s instrument.
And a fine looking one at that.
“God said no. I really don’t know why He sometimes says no, but He does.” Elly turned bloodshot eyes back to him. “I’m so happy you’ve found God, Zander. He loves you very much.”
“He loves you, too, Elly.” Zander leaned in and traced a finger down her cheek. “And He’s not the only one.”
There. It was out there. What would she do with it?
The softening in her eyes answered his question. While she didn’t echo the words back, she obviously felt something.
“Maybe when you’re feeling better, I can take you out for a nice dinner? Get to know you better and see if we’ve got something real here?”
While he had no doubt, she obviously had little experience in matters of romance.
“I’d like that.” The words were so soft he barely heard them. “But right now, I don’t think I can keep my eyes open.”
The smile that curved his lips was the most genuine he’d felt in years. “Then rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“Okay.” Her eyes were already drifting closed.
Only minutes passed before her face slackened and her breathing evened out.
He released her hand and gently set it on her stomach before returning to his oh-so-comfortable chair to settle in.
It didn’t matter how long she slept, he wasn’t going anywhere.
As he stared at her, he thought about the last twelve hours. He’d very nearly lost Elly, and Rafe. In the process, he’d learned that he was the one who had truly been in the grave.
But no more. The grave may be silent and filled with secrets, but it no longer held him. He’d crossed from death to life.
Epilogue
Elly has fallen.
The words surrounded Zeke. A glance across the cabin at Josiah told him the same truth had been revealed to him.
Fallen.
They always knew it was a possibility. From the moment they’d left Hephzibah, they’d known. They’d heard stories.
Yet somehow they’d never anticipated what to do if it happened to one of them.
She has joined the redeemed.
Of course she had. God’s grace was all sufficient, even for those who had tasted the joy of close communion and fallen away.
He held Josiah’s steadfast gaze for several seconds before closing his eyes to pray.
This changed things. He didn’t know how or what the change would mean, but nothing would ever be the same.
Dedication & Acknowledgments
Dedicated to Jamie Lee Grey, fabulous author, insightful editor, and even better friend. I can’t imagine making this journey without you. You are a blessing from the Lord! Readers, if you haven’t yet experienced the thrill of Jamie’s books, you can find them on Amazon. Check them out; you won’t be disappointed!
A heartfelt thank-you to my editing team: Jamie, Linda, and Del. I am continually amazed at the things you catch in my rough draft. As iron sharpens iron, you have made me a better writer. (Proverbs 27:17)
Thank you to all my family, friends, pastors, and Bible study partners who have encouraged me in this endeavor. Your support means more than you’ll ever know.
Thank you to all of YOU who hold this book – or Kindle or e-reader – in your hands. Without readers, an author is simply someone with too many words and a story. I appreciate your support.
Last, but never least, the biggest thank you goes to Jesus, who saved me from the sin and punishment that I deserve and gave me eternal life. May the story of my life be pleasing before Him.
A note from the author
Thank you for joining me on Zander’s journey of faith and healing! I hope you’ll stick with these characters for a while longer – the second book in The Fallen Series, Broken is the Grave, will give you the chance to get to know Zeke a little better, as he learns some tough lessons about life and forgiveness. Keep reading for a sneak peek at that upcoming novel…
If you receive my newsletter, you know that the writing of this book was a journey like no other for me. I saw God move in ways He’s never moved in my life before as the story I thought I was writing went in unexpected directions. In short, writing this story shows the power of letting go of our control and letting God take us where He wants. It may not be what we expect, but it will be better than we can imagine.
Speaking of newsletters, would you like to receive advance notice of upcoming new releases, updates on what’s going on in the Sutton world of suspense, and reading recommendations? Sign up for my monthly newsletter at candlesutton.com to be kept in the loop!
If you enjoyed this novel, would you be so kind as to leave a review on Amazon? Reviews help other readers determine if they want to check this book out. It doesn’t have to be anything lengthy and doesn’t need to recap the story, just a line or two about what you thought can make an impact.
Sin isn’t a popular topic in our culture, yet it’s not something we can shrug off. It was our sin that sent Jesus to the cross – it’s somethin
g to be taken seriously.
Sin is kind of like a cold. It sneaks up on you and is highly contagious.
If you’re like me, the second you feel a cold coming on, you reach for vitamin C, Airborne, or EmergenC – something to try to fend off the bug. It’s funny how we don’t act as proactively in our spiritual life, though. We often think we can dabble in sin and remain unaffected. However when we are exposed to sin, especially repeatedly, we’re more likely to fall into that sin. Profanity is a great example. The more you hear it, the more likely you are to find it slipping into your thoughts… and eventually coming out of your mouth. Obviously we can’t control the words and actions of others, but we can do our best to limit our interaction with the things that might trip us up.
The thing about sin is that, unlike a cold, it doesn’t make you sick for ten days and then go away. In that regard, it’s more like a cancer. It invades, affects your whole life, and – if left unchecked – brings death.
Now for those of us who know Jesus, sin no longer brings eternal death. Jesus has saved us from that fate. Yet it still brings some sort of death into our lives. It might bring death to a relationship or a dream. It might also bring some kind of death to our witness or character. Most importantly, it negatively impacts our relationship with God.
But the cool thing is that righteousness is contagious, too. As believers, we have the Spirit of God in us. Because of that, we have power beyond ourselves, power that can impact others for good.
If you’re contagious to those around you, what are they catching? Are you spreading peace, joy, and love? Or are you spreading grumbling, gossip, and hatred?
When I started writing this book, I never intended for the human trafficking angle to be a part of it, but God took it down that path. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe to force us to think about the ugliness of something that is far more prevalent than most of us know. Even as we sit here, there are people out there, many of whom are children, that have lost their freedom and have no hope for the future. If that struck a chord with you, there are many good charities out there that are fighting against human trafficking that could use your support. Micah 6:8 has really been brought to mind a lot lately: “He has shown you, o mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”
What does that look like in your everyday life? Where might God be calling you to make a difference?
I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to connect with me on Facebook or drop me an email at [email protected]. May the Spirit of God so fill you that you impact those around you for eternity.
Excerpt from Broken is the Grave
Prologue
The grave beckoned.
He’d always known it would come to this. Yet somehow, he thought it would happen later, after he’d had a chance to make peace with Bethany. And his kids.
The pain pulsed. Wave after wave through his broken body.
Wood flashed across his vision as the bat swung toward him again.
Another blow.
Agony! A cry wrenched from his throat as he heard a bone snap.
His arms couldn’t move, couldn’t ward off the blows that came one after the other.
At least he’d left that package before they’d found him. It wouldn’t stop this, but it might bring justice.
Crack!
The pain was less intense. Justice would be too late to help him.
Spots darkened the world in front of his eyes. The pain dulled as blackness rushed in.
₪ ₪ ₪
The bat clattered against metal as he tossed it into the nearest dumpster.
Striding purposefully down the alley, he pulled off his gloves, turning them inside out in the process, and stuffed them in his pockets.
His black pants and shoes hid the evidence of blood spatter that he knew existed.
When he got home, he’d throw the clothes in the wash.
And the shoes in the trash. Waste of good shoes, but they had too much evidence on them.
So much risk for nothing.
Sure, James was dead. As planned. But he’d given up nothing. The evidence in James’ possession was still missing.
And he needed that evidence.
He’d have to find out who the man had spent his time with. If he had any family.
Someone out there had the evidence. All he had to do was find out who and then he could take care of them.
Just like he’d taken care of James.
One
“Where you been, brother? I was worried about you.”
Zeke dropped on a bench beside Reuben and held the man’s tired gaze. “No need to worry about me, man. God’s got me.”
Rubbing a dirty hand over the stubble gracing his jawline, Reuben sighed. “Not safe on these streets. I worry ‘bout people who disappear.”
It’d only been three days, but Zeke didn’t point that out. Time passed differently for men like Reuben. “I’m sorry to have worried you. My sister was going through some stuff.”
Reuben whipped his gaze up. “Didn’t know you got a sister.”
“I do. Elly was…” He struggled for the right word. Sick? Sort of. Healing a nearly life-ending gunshot wound had taken a lot out of her. But it was her new status as one of the fallen ones that had been the hardest to handle. “Dealing with some things. It took a few days for her to get her head on right, if you know what I mean.”
Reuben nodded, but Zeke knew the man didn’t have a clue.
No one outside his family did.
Not even Zander, who knew their secret and loved Elly, could grasp what she was going through. She was a shadow of the woman she’d once been, all because of the contamination of sin.
Fallen.
The word still rang in his mind, echoing in the voice of God.
Enough. He turned his attention on Reuben. “How have you been?”
Reuben shrugged. “You know. Same as always.”
Same as always. Sleeping in alleys during the day, staying vigilant at night, visiting the Loving Hands Mission for meals.
A man’s scream severed the silence between them.
Zeke jerked his head around.
That sounded bad. Where had it come from?
Arise. God’s voice, clear and loving, whispered in his ear.
He didn’t even realize he’d stood until Reuben’s bony hand gripped his arm. “Don’t, brother. Ain’t worth getting’ involved.”
How could he not help?
Fear gleamed in Reuben’s dark eyes. Even though the man was only a few years older than Zeke, a tough life had aged him beyond his forty years. White peppered his black curls and lines marred his forehead. Bags sagged beneath his eyes, which looked more pronounced as they silently begged Zeke to stay.
“Someone needs help. I have to try.”
Reuben’s hand fell away. His lips pressed together but he said nothing.
Zeke placed his hand on Reuben’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay, man. God’s on my side. But maybe you could call the police and get them out here?”
Reuben nodded, shuffling toward the Loving Hands building.
Good. Now about that scream…
Zeke looked to heaven. Which way, Lord?
The alley.
Zeke crossed the street and approached the alley God had indicated. Empty. He went down it anyway.
At the back of the alley, it intersected another alley.
Left.
He turned left.
And almost tripped over the body.
Bile backed up his throat as he stared at the bloody mess in front of him.
He forced it back and dropped to his knees beside the man. In spite of the swelling and blood, Zeke recognized the man. James Summers. While not a regular at Loving Hands, the man had dropped in on more than one occasion.
Blood matted James’ brown hair to his scalp. Both eyes were swollen, his lower lip was split, and several nasty looking gashes zig-zagged his fa
ce. Part of his skull looked misshapen, as though the bones had shattered, but it was hard to tell beneath the hair and blood.
Bones poked through the skin on James’ right arm and leg.
No doubt there was a lot more damage where Zeke couldn’t see.
Oh, Lord. He struggled to form a coherent prayer. Is he alive?
No. The single word resounded in his eardrums.
Zeke stared at James. The man’s chest was still, proving God’s message to be true.
How could people do this to one another?
₪ ₪ ₪
“Zeke?”
Zeke jerked at the sound of Zander’s voice. He’d been so deep in prayer that he hadn’t even heard the unmarked car pull up.
As Zander approached the bench, Morgan, Zander’s partner, crossed the street and headed for the alley.
Trying to push all thoughts of battered bodies and blood from his mind, Zeke focused on Zander. “I wondered if you’d get called to this.”
Zander dropped on the bench beside him. “You heard what happened?”
“I found him.” Even as the images flooded him, his mind rebelled at them. “His name is James Summers.”
Zander leaned in. “You know him?”
“Not well. He’d only recently started coming around and even then, he was sporadic.”
“You must’ve gotten to him too late to heal him.” Zander’s tone was low, not that anyone was around to hear.
“Healing is Elly’s gift, not mine.” Thinking he and his siblings shared the same gifts was a common misconception among the people who learned the truth about them.
Zander blinked. “So what’s yours?”
“Teaching. And understanding languages I don’t know.” He studied Zander’s face. Pale, a thin sheen of sweat. His hands seemed somewhat twitchy, too. “How’s the battle going?”
Zander whipped his head around, probably checking for listening ears, before narrowing his eyes on Zeke. “Fine. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring this up while I’m working.”
Silent is the Grave Page 29
