Using bits of light from street lamps shining through gaps in the boarded windows, she crept toward the sound. Each footstep caused the rotted floor to creak and groan. She pushed further into the darker shadows, guided by the heart-wrenching cries.
They emanated from a room at the very back of the house. She pushed the door opened. Something slithered into the far corner. She moved further inside, squinting in a vain effort to adjust to the blackness.
From behind her came a roar and a horrific blast of heat. She spun around. Flames blocked the doorway and quickly spread along the tender dry boards. Susannah ran to the window. It wouldn’t budge. She kicked at the glass. It refused to shatter. The heat intensified.
A raspy voice hissed in her ear. “Now you will die.”
Susannah shook her head. “No!”
The fire now covered three walls and most of the ceiling. She kicked repeatedly at the stubborn windowpane. It bent, but refused to break.
“Susannah.”
The old Indian stood on the other side of the flames, beckoning to her.
“I can’t!”
The heat intensified. Roiling black smoke filled the room. She gasped for air.
Again, the old Indian beckoned.
She shook her head. “I can’t!”
“Susannah, trust me.”
Keeping her eyes fixed on the old Indian and not on the flames, she stepped forward.
There were no flames.
Epilogue
Susannah leaned against the railing and watched the usual crowd milling around the water: Elephant, kudu, buffalo, impala, and the amusing little pigs, the warthogs. In the distance rose the perpetual thunderheads enshrouding the falls, colored brilliant pink in the late afternoon. If she listened, she could just make out their roar.
“They don’t have that lime drink, but I found some lemonade, well sort of lemonade.”
Susannah accepted the drink. “Honey, anything wet and cold is fine.”
Val leaned next to her.
She touched his arm. “Still sensitive?”
“A little, but this,” he gestured toward the amazing vista stretching below them, “This, and you, make it all worth it. And the pension from the Service doesn’t hurt.”
“I’m sorry you had to retire. I know you loved the work.”
“Susannah, it could have happened anytime, on any case. It’s part of the job. There’s always a risk.”
“Yes, but if we hadn’t gone out that night―”
“Susannah, stop. We’ve discussed this, and I’ll repeat your words. ‘God can make all things work for the good of those who love Him.’ Quote and end quote. My injury is a blessing in disguise. I can still use my hand, perhaps not with the proficiency the Agency needs, but I’m still useful.”
“I know.”
“Then what?”
“Did any of it make a bit of difference? All our suffering and that of the victims, and there still isn’t a resolution. The human traffic ring has hit a speed bump, but not shut down. Evil is still as rampant as before. It isn’t right.” She shook her head. “Don’t say it. I know, nothing will be totally fair in this world, but after so much, I had hoped there would be just a bit of a difference.”
“Remember your favorite story about the starfish, Susannah. That’s about all we get to hope for, except think of this. For every child you save ―”
“We save.”
“Okay, we save, the lives they affect should also be counted, parents, siblings, friends, their future children. And so, the ramifications are far more significant. And even beyond that, who knows which child will be the next Einstein, Martin Luther King, Dr. Salk, or Gandhi, and have the potential to change millions of lives.”
“True.”
“And even if they don’t change the world, their lives matter.”
“But, how do you cope, knowing your efforts only touch the surface? Didn’t you ever feel discouraged?”
“Of course I did. But, each life saved, each criminal taken off the streets, was my small contribution, and add that with those of other agents and officers all over the world, we do make a difference.”
“Yeah, I guess you are right.”
“But what?”
“I still don’t understand how anyone can hurt children.”
“We will never understand that, Susannah. Criminals don’t think like us. Let’s chalk it up to divine intervention that we stopped some of them, and just be thankful.”
“I can’t dismiss it that easily. Something is still very wrong. I feel it, but can’t figure out what it is.”
“Won’t that old Indian appear when it’s time to act?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let it go until then and let’s just enjoy our honeymoon.”
Susannah stared out toward the water. “I guess.”
Val put his good arm around her and pulled her close. “You’ll know when it is time to act, as always. Brian Falun, and the rest of those thugs, will make a mistake and get caught. They’ve been lucky so far, but their luck won’t last.”
He leaned down and kissed her.
Susannah smiled. “I could get used to this, you know.”
“That’s the plan, and I hereby order you to be happy. No more worry, no more guilt, or regrets. We are right where we should be, where we’re meant to be.”
Susannah nodded, leaned against him, and looked back out toward the river.
Acapella male voices drifted across the veranda.
“Oh, that’s courtesy of the lodge.” Val said. “In celebration of our wedding.”
It was a celebration, the happy-ever-after-ending. She had someone to share her life ― all of it, the good as well as the bad, someone who would always be there.
A raspy voice whispered in her ear. “He won’t always be with you. You will be alone.”
Susannah envisioned the flames and the old Indian. “Wrong. I will never be alone, for God is always with me.”
A hiss. The sound of desperate clawing. A beastly scream. A powerful force pushed the demon back into the slimy hole from which it had crawled and set a seal upon the door.
The old Indian appeared. “It won’t remain sealed forever, but for a time. But even then, do not worry or fear.”
Susannah nodded. “I will trust. My faith will protect me.”
The image of the old Indian transformed into an ethereal being. “Susannah, do not be afraid. I am Raphael the archangel, angel of healing.” He reached out and touched her brow. “God will grant you the desires of your heart and the last half of your life will be far better than the first.” Then he vanished.
Val pulled her close and kissed her cheek. The sun sank lower, the sky ignited into red laced with gold. Shadows swallowed the grounds beneath the deck.
The love song switched to The Lion Sleeps Tonight ― for the tourists, and somewhere in the darkness, just beyond the compound, a lion roared.
Coming soon: Lions Among the Lambs
About the Author
Cecilia Marie Pulliam is an artist, author, and an avid reader. She called a small town in southeastern Oregon home for three quarters of her life, until mid-life adventures that took her from Oregon to Africa, back to Oregon, to Arizona and finally to Idaho. These experiences, along with some of life's tougher lessons, and a few miracles, inspired this book.
Her blog, Cecilia Marie Pulliam at http://ceciliamariepulliam.blogspot.com/, features Christian themed stories, photos of her month long tour of Africa, her African wedding, and some of her artwork.
Adding spice to her writing, and to her life, are her husband, three grown children, five grandchildren, and one exuberant Brittany named, Scout.
You may connect with Cecilia through Twitter at https://twitter.com/MariePulliam, or on Face Book at https://www.facebook.com/cecilia.pulliam.
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And Then Came A Lion (Lions and Lambs Book 1) Page 23
