You Are.
Before we get to the Epilogue and a sneak peek at the next book, Puzzle Master: Master of None, I have a personal request. In Chapter Thirty-One we see one reaction to Cephas’ testimony is people standing in various places throughout the world with their arms held wide to show that the cross that lives in their hearts can never be torn down. To help spread the word and help me give away as many free eBooks as possible, please put yourself in that picture.
I’ve seen fads of people taking pictures of themselves lying in odd places (planking), pictures of morning lattes, people imitating the poses of favorite sports stars and celebrities and of course a never ending parade of selfies. Most of the time it’s done as meaningless fun and I respect that. This once though, let’s put a little meaning into the fun.
Stand and show your cross anywhere and everywhere that you feel the presence of God in your heart then share the picture with your friends along with a link to the free download of Puzzle Master and a word or two saying you enjoyed the book. For the younger crowd, I know you love Snapchat so you can find me @PuzzleMasterBk. If you’d like a more permanent record you can also post your cross picture on my Facebook or Instagram pages, both of which are @PuzzleMasterBook.
No matter where you got the free eBook reviews where the paper version is sold are always appreciated.
If I’ve achieved the goal of touching you with my words, here is an email address where you can tell me about it personally:
[email protected]. For those who prefer the personal touch of a hand written letter, you can reach me via my publisher at:
T.J. McKenna
c/o Grace Creek Press, LLC
1245 Tari Lane, Suite 100
Colorado Springs, CO 80921
Thanks for your patience and your posts, now on to the Epilogue and part of Chapter One of Puzzle Master: Master of None.
Epilogue
Four weeks later
Nearly ten thousand kilometers away large drilling drones work grinding through a mix of sand and solid rock. As the cutting heads on one drone get dull another automatically swings into position while the first reports to the maintenance area where more robots will automatically sharpen or replace the cutting edges.
Behind the drills, smaller drones carry away the excavated material while others move roof supports into place. The going is slowest when the rigs hit pockets of sand that cave in around them but working day and night, nothing holds them back for long. After digging for over five kilometers, tonight the drones are finally standing still and silent. Tonight needs the human touch.
“Where do we stand?” the shift supervisor asks the lead technician.
“We broke through an hour ago. It took us a while to pull the rigs out of the way so the first team is just about to enter the chamber now. Here’s the live feed.”
He taps a screen to show a jumpy video taken from a shoulder camera on the team leader.
The screen shows the agents moving through some sort of ancient burial chamber filled with various artifacts. The find would be an archeologist’s dream but the team steps on and kicks the antiquities like just so much junk that has accumulated in an attic.
“Nothing.” the supervisor says. “I don’t get it. Our source said it would be here.”
“Hold on,” the team leader replies over his com. “It looks like we have a set of stairs leading down. I’m going to check out what’s below.”
Without thinking about the age of the wooden steps the leader takes just one step before the entire staircase disintegrates from thousands of years of dry rot, sending him tumbling with a crash. When the camera stops moving at first there’s nothing to be seen but dust reflecting back in the beam of the camera’s light.
“Team leader? Are you okay?” the technician asks but there’s no response, not even a moan. “He’s not moving. Should I send a medical drone to assist?”
“Do whatever you want,” the supervisor replies. “Look!”
Through the settling dust the tilted camera shows a clear image of what looks like a large metal birdcage.
“Send a message directly to Henry Portman in D.C. Tell him we’re on.”
Sneak Peek at Puzzle Master: Master of None
Chapter One
“YOU ARE.”
That was Martha’s response when I asked her who was to lead Christians in the True Holy War.
How many times can those words echo in your head before they drive you insane?
YOU ARE the leader of the “True Holy War”.
YOU ARE expected to teach the world about the love of Jesus Christ.
YOU ARE a wanted man with a price on his head.
YOU ARE the last hope for religious freedom.
YOU ARE in way over your head Cephas Paulson.
A month ago I was on the shore of the Sea of Galilee listening as a risen Jesus Christ told me to “Feed his sheep”. The Bible recorded him as saying those words to my namesake, Simon Peter but the third and final time he spoke those words to Peter, Jesus was staring over Peter’s shoulders and into my eyes. As I stood in Galilee it all seemed simple. I would return to my own time and tell the godless world of 2202 that they had it all wrong, that Christ was the son of God and it was time to follow God’s plan rather than continue with the mess mankind had made of things. The future looks anything but simple now.
The day after I arrived in Capon Springs, West Virginia Martha traveled to a secret Four base to share the news that we’d escaped from the cult hunter corps. When she returned she barely spoke and wouldn’t look me in the eye. Since then I’ve been under the constant watch of two or more rotating “trainers” from Four who have been tasked with giving me basic training including hand to hand combat, knife throwing and the use of stun guns. I’m terrible at throwing knives but in everything else I’ve made rapid progress, which I attribute in part to years of disciplined attention to detail as The Cult Hunter and in part to the fact that I have nothing else to do with my time. I’m not allowed to access any computers so I voluntarily train for twelve hours per day, stopping only to pray, eat and sleep.
The real purpose of my “training team” is obvious. Whenever I have a knife in my hand they have knives in each of theirs. My stun gun is a training model locked in the lowest setting while theirs are the full power variety and usually in their hands whenever I’m at the practice range. The fact that I can’t go the bathroom without an armed escort is hard to miss as is the fact that the members of Four clearly despise me. I’m too good at reading body language and facial expressions to not recognize a prison guard when I see one.
My evening training today included running a makeshift obstacle course as my trainers fired stun guns over my head. Their shots were so close I could feel my hair standing up from the electrical charge in the air. Two shots actually grazed me, causing me to lose feeling in my left hand and right foot for an hour.
As always, I wake at midnight to the shuffling of feet when they change the guards and listen to the conversations. They won’t tell me their names so I’ve given them each one based on their appearance or manners. Tonight’s conversation is like many of the others I’ve heard for the last month.
“You buying the holy act yet?” the voice I know as “Razor stubble” asks.
“Of course not. Once a cult hunter, always a cult hunter,” the voice of “Angry eyebrows” responds. “I don’t care what he said in his big speech, he killed my sister and would kill me next if given the chance.”
“Then why are we training him? Martha sent a report to the council saying we captured him but she’s treating him like a new recruit.”
“Beats me. Every time he picks up a knife it gives me the creeps.”
“Not me. I’m hoping he’ll try something so I can kill him where he stands.”
They move out of earshot and leave me to ponder my new world.
After first reading the Bible three years ago I imagined what it would be like to join a church. I dreamed about being in the company
of Christians and living my life free from the anger and violence of the cult hunter corps.
This definitely isn’t the church Jesus described.
***
I leave my room the next morning and begin the daily dance. Guards from Four will follow me around the grounds just like kill team guards from the corps used to follow me wherever I went. They try to blend in, but they’re just another set of puzzle pieces that have been jammed into the wrong places. Luckily, even being under constant watch can’t ruin the serenity of Capon Springs. It seems like every day I find a new wonder of nature or history to captivate my thoughts as I walk the grounds.
Martha approaches the guards one by one and dismisses them then walks straight towards me.
“You ready?” Martha asks.
“Would it matter?”
“No. They’ve been demanding this meeting for weeks.”
“They” are the Four council, the leaders of the young Christians who are not content to hide in the shadows as Christians have done for generations. Martha was recently promoted and is now one of “them”. Her official title is “team leader” and she’s been given command of a local Four unit called “Bethany House” to which I’ve also been assigned.
“You declared me the leader in the True Holy War, it seems only fair I should get to review my troops.”
My tone makes Martha frown.
“Fine. I may have been a bit premature in naming you our new leader. I’ve put them off because I thought taking time here to adjust to your new life might give you a better shot at convincing them you’re a new man.”
“Or at least a model prisoner?”
“You’re not a prisoner. You’re very important to the Four movement. We just haven’t figured out exactly how you fit into our operations.”
I feign a sudden move towards her and her hand immediately goes to the hunting knife that hangs from her belt. I stand and stare at her hand which is wrapped around the handle. I’d like to cry but I just nod my head in understanding. If my dream of joining the church that Christ described has been crushed then my dream of loving Martha has been shattered to a million pieces that no human puzzle master can ever put back together.
“I’m ready when you are, Warden.”
***
Another Author’s note:
You didn’t really expect life to suddenly be easy for Cephas did you? It’s one thing to declare yourself a Christian… but it’s quite another to live it.
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