The Complete 8-Book Guardians Adventure Saga

by Summer Lee

  “The fire-model tests of Dr. Dmitri Kouznetsov in 1994 and Drs. John Jackson and Prop in 1998, which replicated the famous fire of 1532, demonstrated that the fire added carbon isotopes to the linen.

  “In January, 1996, a test was run to show effects of fires and carbon dating of old textiles, like the Shroud of Turin.

  “On the evidence that the radiocarbon date of the Turin Shroud was significantly affected by the 1532 fire, a distinctive molecular fingerprint that can be used to identify its components. After being placed in the chapel built for it, there is no evidence that it has been stolen or moved. Such stories are for the purpose of confusing the would-be robbers.

  “I conclude that the shroud is the same cloth that was placed over the body of our Lord in the tomb. That His resurrected body passed through the cloth at the speed of lightning, leaving the burned marks as negative results that Jesus is positively alive. I, Daniel DiBenedetto, have proven this to be true. Therefore, I conclude that the stories of Jesus rising from the dead are true.”

  The End

  To be continued in:

  The Jewels of Jezebel

  The Reluctant Hero #2

  Coming soon!

  Return to the Table of Contents

  Also available:

  Under the Blood Moon

  The Stargazing Series #1

  by Summer Lee

  (read on for a sample)

  Chapter One

  Year One, April 12th

  High noon.

  The cry could be heard throughout the small Israeli village, far away from any city.

  “End of days! End of days!”

  The Earth quaked. The buildings, made of straw and pitch, became unsteady. The residents, who were ordinarily comfortable in their clothing made of potato sacks, walked out of their homes, half-dressed, as they wandered aimlessly in the streets. Like the walking dead, they had no sense of purpose or direction, as if they were victims of chemical warfare. Vacating their homes was their last hope for life. Their gaze was only downward, as they stared at the ground with eyes wide open. No one even blinked as the Earth crumbled under their feet.

  One young man was different. He was the only one walking through the middle of the settlement, confounded. Confusion surrounded him, but he kept walking forward. Dressed in denim jeans, a blue T-shirt and white tennis shoes, he looked from side to side for a reason for being in the simple town—even to know a reason for his existence. His sandy blonde hair moved slightly with the breeze. He felt the coolness of it. He looked around trying to make sense of where he was and why. The village seemed to be a place out of time to him.

  “End of days! End of days!”

  He heard the cry again. It was closer this time. The voice was that of an older man with a local accent. Feeling light-headed, the young man’s head reeled and his stomach rumbled. He stopped dead still to catch his breath. That was when he realized that it was not his stomach rumbling, but mother Earth.

  The ground underneath him cracked and broke apart as the straw huts caved in. Oddly, no one around him had enough life to panic. They continued to stare at the ground with eyes wide open, just walking and walking.

  The sky darkened, as black clouds rolled in to blanket the area. It was as if someone had sped up the film, except there was no film. It was no movie. He looked up at the darkened sky. It was real.

  The young man felt his heart racing. He could not take his eyes off of the sky as the thick ebony clouds slowly showed a florescent red lining.

  The air was thick and unbreathable, causing the villagers to pass out, one by one.

  Lightning flashed, thunder rolled. Vibrations electrified the man. He felt the ground shaking even more as the cracks got wider. He dropped to his knees and braced himself with his hands, expecting to be swallowed up. He could feel the cold dirt underneath his palms move like play dough. It was as if the ground was in the process of liquifying.

  The trees all around him wobbled, uprooted and toppled over. Crevices in the ground ripped open around him. Fissures of boiling, hot water spewed up into the chilly air, and then came back down again hotter than before. The scalding liquid returned to Earth, showering the young man with the painful droplets. Each driblet felt like a sharp needle piercing his flesh, as the spots quickly reddened, festered and blistered. Like an infection in his body, the blisters filled with pus.

  Mid-afternoon arrived. His lips were so dry that they cracked. Whenever he ran his tongue around the outside of his mouth, the blisters made his face feel like it was on fire again.

  He looked about. Villagers looked confused and turned pale while their loved ones dropped dead around them. Aware of the physical phenomenon, parents went around picking up children and pets that passed away, hugging them, trying to awaken them.

  Someone shouted, “Doomsday!”

  Evening came. The sky changed in quality when the clouds parted to reveal the moon. Earth’s satellite appeared to be so much bigger than it normally looked in the night sky. It called to the unseasoned traveler to be part of it. The young man stretched his forefinger out toward the moon, knowing that if he tried hard enough, he could actually touch it and control the atmosphere.

  The moon moved slowly toward him and he could make out every detail of its surface. He continued to reach out to it. It was almost as if his very life depended upon touching it. He was determined. He would touch it. But it was an inch away.

  The ground was opening up with larger crevices all around him, while the sounds of screams of victims filled the air. His attention was only on the moon. He must touch the moon. He stretched with everything he had, yet the moon was still just out of his reach. His frustration increased.

  An older woman behind him tripped and fell toward an open cranny. He looked back as the crevice widened. She obviously was not strong enough to keep her footing when she fell backwards. He scowled as if her falling offended him. He saw her barely grab a bush on the side, holding on for dear life. When he stepped over to help her, he saw that she was losing her grip and slipping. He reached for her, as she said, “Please,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “You must save my son.”

  He squatted down to assist her. His eyes widened. “Mom?”

  “Yes.” Her expression became less pained, and she even managed a smile. “Save… my… son.”

  “But… I AM your son!” He could not make her understand. There was no communication. He could not make any sense out of her words, as she was losing her grip. He reached out for her, with the hope that she could grab his hand and would be safe. He shook his head. If he would attempt to pull her up, he would fall in.

  It didn’t work!

  The bush slipped through her fingers. He grabbed for her hand, but he was too far away and it was too late. It was as if she wanted to go. As she fell into the darkness, she still had that smile on her face. “Save my son.”

  “No! Mom! Don’t leave me out here alone.”

  She whispered, “Just...save....my...son.”

  Her face faded away, so did her voice.

  He stared angrily into the abyss and wept. He could not do anything to save his mother. She was gone. What did she mean by those words: “Save my son”?

  He kept walking. He saw a forest of tall trees ahead of him on a terra firma and headed toward them, leaping over the cracks.

  He tried to ignore the crevices, which were appearing more frequently. He stepped around them, as he made his way toward the trees. They would offer him some kind of protection. At least in his eyes, they would.

  Screams of the dying surrounded him. Throughout the wilderness, tortured souls cried out; he could still hear the three words, more clearly than before. In the distance, the old man was saying, “End of days! End of days.”

  Before reaching the line of trees, he heard a deafening noise, as if every jet in existence was right behind him firing up their engines.

  “Oh my God, help!”

  He turned and watched the village disappear in the vibra
ting land. Then the village was gone—vanishing into a chasm. A bottomless pit appeared where the village stood just moments before. Leaping over the gaps in the ground, he ran toward the trees for shelter.

  He panicked in shock, as he saw the flames rise from the pit. He felt the heat sear his face. So he turned away. He could still feel the heat with the air getting even harder to breathe.

  He saw a path being opened before him. The ground was crumbling a path straight toward him. It was as if it had a mind of its own and wanted him to join his mother.

  “No.” Shaking his head, he ran toward the trees, jumping over a tree that had just fallen during the quake. He ran hard, staying away from the destruction. He managed to run faster than the ground could open up to swallow him. He kept his goal in mind as he headed toward the small hill of trees. He had to get there in time.

  The chase was on, as small, flaming rocks rocketed past his head, coming from the pit behind, as they shot out of the crevice. He jumped and dodged them to the best of his ability. He did not want to die.

  He made it to the small hill just as the ground all around it collapsed. The hill was the only place untouched by the heat and fire. He looked around frantically, to see if there was any other route he could take, in case the hill was lost to him.

  He saw nothing else.

  Nighttime brought darkness. There was nothing else. He was alone. The heat caused him to perspire more than he ever had in his life. He coughed due to lack of oxygen and fell to his knees with his hands held toward heaven. He wanted to open up his airways.

  There was no hope. He closed his eyes. “God? I don’t know for certain if you exist, but if you do, I could use your help. I’ve been told that I need Jesus—that his blood sacrifice is my only hope in these last days. So, I accept that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, and my Savior. Please help me understand.”

  Stretching his hands forward, he felt something. His hands came in contact with something hard, like a huge rock. All he could see was a round red object that looked like the moon. It was the moon, right there in front of him. Startled, he screamed. When he jerked, his forefinger touched the moon.

  As he made contact, blood trickled onto his face. The red fluid soon covered him as he collapsed. He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to see that the blood put out the fire around him.

  Chapter Two

  April 12th, 3 p.m.

  Eric’s eyes popped open, almost of their own accord. The moon was gone, but massive amounts of steam permeated the area and completely surrounded him. He was awake.

  “No!” Eric Tania jerked and sat up covered in sweat. He panicked, as he noticed his bare chest and arms were covered with electrodes. He felt them on his head. His breathing was erratic and several alarms were going off. “Please don’t do this to me.”

  A young woman ran into the room wearing a long white lab coat and thin framed glasses. She had on tennis shoes and her light brown hair was up in a bun. She was accompanied by an older man with gray wavy hair, also in a lab coat.

  “Get the electrodes off of him now, Sybil! I’ll get the alarms!” The older man ran faster than he looked like he was capable of doing, as he hurried to each machine, resetting it.

  The woman ran up to the sweaty younger man. “Come on, Eric! We almost had it that time!”

  Eric started angrily pulling the sticky rubber attachments off of him. “I’m tired of this! How long have I been your guinea pig?”

  She smiled out of the corner of her mouth and placed her arm on his shoulder. “Since childhood, little bro’.” She grabbed a towel from a nearby table and threw it at him. “Don’t get any sweat on the expensive machines.”

  “I’m not doing this again, sis, you know,” he stated with his own grin. “We’re done here.”

  Her smile faded as she punched his arm. “Hey! We are getting a breakthrough! You can’t quit now, Eric! The only way you said you would stop, is if…” She stopped in mid-sentence, knowing full well that he was playing with her. “Did we? Did we?”

  Shaking his head, he dropped his feet down to the floor and grabbed his shirt from another table. “Yeah, sis. I finished it. I finished the dream.”

  ***

  Sybil Tania hugged her brother too tight. She wouldn’t let him breathe, as her hug constricted him. “Hey, sis! Give a guy some air!”

  She pulled back and apologized. She pushed her glasses further up on her nose and tried to compose herself. “You know I get excited when we have a breakthrough.”

  “I know.”

  “So tell me all about it,” the older man said, enthusiastically. He had just finished turning the last alarm off and resetting them. “Don’t worry about the alarms. They went off because you popped up a little too fast, Eric.”

  “I figured as much,” Eric replied with a smug look. “I guess you all want to hear how my dream ended. Well, Mom was in it again and she died again. This time, it was set in a really old Israeli village, I do mean village. The huts were made from straw and pitch and much simpler than the Bedouin camps. All the people were dressed in potato sacks. Most of them died.”

  “He feels like talking.” Laughing, Sybil looked at the older man. “Dr. Caladasian? Maybe we should get my brother into an examination room, so we can record his story.”

  “Excellent idea,” the doctor replied, making a clicking sound. He had an overbite and liked to click his tongue against his teeth. His small inset eyes gave Sybil the creeps when she first met him four years ago. Now she was used to them. That did not stop him from being brilliant. He was the head of research at the Dream Institute in Seattle, Washington. “Eric?” he said. “Go have the nurse prepare you for another examination. You should have the room memorized by now.”

  “I have.” Eric let out a frustrated sigh and shot a displeased glance at the doctor and his sister. “Sure. Why not? What are guinea pigs for, anyway?”

  He solemnly walked down the corridor toward the examination room. The doctor held Sybil back. “I want to talk to you.”

  “What?”

  “I know you don’t approve of how we receive our information, but let me assure you that it is essential to curing your brother of his night terrors.”

  “They’re not night terrors, doctor,” she uttered, as she headed down the corridor as well. “We discussed this before. I believe in science as much as you do. Maybe more. But Eric has a real gift. He’s always been able to see things through his dreams. It’s gotten stronger recently. That’s why he agreed to take part in these tests. He wants to find out what’s going on, just as much as we do.”

  “It may just be a bad dream,” the doctor said. “Maybe he had seen a totally eclipsed moon when he was young, one which assumed an unusual color, like the color of red. If so, one cannot assume that a red eclipse will have a prophetic meaning.”

  “I will not be content until I know for sure.”

  “Does he know that we found a way to record his actual dreams?” Dr. Caladasian spoke quietly, to make sure no one else could hear him.

  Sybil’s anger flared. “You said you weren’t going to try that on Eric! In fact, I believe you gave me your word you wouldn’t use it!”

  “Sybil! Use the brains that you have! He was the perfect subject for the test, and I think you’ll like to know that I recorded this session that we just finished today.” Dr. Caladasian said, “Everyone is talking about the blood moon. Your brother makes contact with it. We need to know why. I think it is a nightmare.” His smile was devious and iniquitous.

  “And I think he is a messenger to the world that something bad is coming.” Sybil was torn between the loyalty to her brother and the desire to see what was recorded.

  He placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “We are obligated to know.”

  He raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Want to see the film?”

  The scientist in her overpowered any sibling love. “Alright. We check the recording together, or not at all. Deal?”

  “
Deal.” They shook hands. “Okay, listen. The full moon following the harvest moon frequently is called the hunter’s moon, though the term blood moon occasionally is used. A totally eclipsed moon often has a red appearance, though the colors orange, yellow, gray, and even black are possible. Because the most common color of a totally eclipsed moon is red, in recent years people increasingly have called an eclipsed moon a blood moon.”

  “I understand.”

  He had a sparkle appear in his eyes, as his smile grew. “We’ve sealed the deal, my dear! We’ll take notes in the examination room as we observe the scan. Then later, we’ll compare them to see how they match up. Mum’s the word. Neither of us can tell anyone, not even Eric. It’s completely experimental, so we might not actually be able to see Eric’s dream as he saw it. The possibility though, is simply delicious. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Sybil laughed. “We’ll wait and see.”

  Chapter Three

  April 13th, 9 a.m.

  Sybil sat with Dr. Caladasian in the hospital cafeteria. “Did you hear the news today?” she asked.

  “No. What’s going on?”

  “The Ukraine launched an operation to retake government buildings from pro-Russian separatists in the east side of their country today. The separatists had seized many buildings. As of yet, no troops have moved in. After flouting the Ukrainian government’s deadline to lay down their arms, the Russian government is warning the crisis could spark a civil war. The Ukrainian government asked the United Nations to authorize a peacekeeping force.”

  “Those kinds of wars happen all the time.”

  “This is worse. The American people should be prepared for the Wrath of God. We do not have all the time in the world before the Battle of Armageddon erupts that could kill off much of the human race on Earth.”