Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (33 page)

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Authors: Kenneth Cary

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BOOK: Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3)
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“Weapons like the one you are holding were created for a special purpose. They can be called upon by those who are in authority to wield them,” answered Sarrif. John swung the sword around with as much effort as it took to wave his hand in the air. It made a strange sound as it sliced the air around him, something like fast moving water that spilled over a high rocky ledge; a powerful waterfall, but more refined.

John walked over to the first guard, and without hesitation he ran the man through with the sword. He watched as the man’s body slumped forward onto the table. The man’s spirit stood and looked down at his body, apparently surprised at being unexpectedly freed of it. His spirit then turned to look at John, and John was about to strike the man’s spirit, thinking that he had not completed his task, when many long black tendrils of dark energy rose up from the ground and ensnared the man. In seconds the man’s spirit was entirely engulfed by the dark energy and he was dragged down, into the earth. He left the world without as much as a single cry of surprise.

The other guards didn’t notice the first biker’s collapse onto the table, but it was noticeable when two more bikers fell dead to the floor in quick succession. John approached the fourth man as he stood and shouted, “What the f. . .” John cut him down before he could finish his vulgar sentence of surprise.

The remaining two guards jumped up and joined each other in the center of the room. They assumed a back-to-back fighting position near John, and prepared for an attack from an unseen enemy. John studied the man closest to him as the guard stooped to examine John’s unconscious body. Perhaps thinking John was also dead, the man broke and ran for the front door. He fell dead. John cut him down just as he reached for the door handle.

John turned his attention to Steve, the last man. He was angry and frustrated, and nervously circled in place, calling out challenges to an unseen enemy. John thought of toying with him, but it wasn’t a worthy purpose of his abilities. His mission was not to humiliate, not to be prideful or even vengeful, but to clear a way for the work. John was acting on behalf of justice and mercy; justice for the man, and mercy for the woman, and not for personal satisfaction.

When Steve fell, John saw that his spirit was brighter than it was in the van, and that he was being invited to the light. That surprised John, but not half as surprised as Steve was to see him. John smiled and gestured Steve to the light. Steve smiled in reply and left. John turned back to Sarrif and said, “Steve went to the light. How is that even possible?”

“Everything is possible with Father,” replied Sarrif

“Surely he wasn’t worthy of Heaven?” asked John.

“Heaven has many levels, but only Father knows the works of all men and women. He knows their hearts, and places them accordingly. Just because they went up doesn’t mean they have obtained the riches of Heaven. Even those who go down are not all lost. Progression is open to all, but it’s also a choice. Spirits can only abide the light they are at the time of their death. Apparently Steve was a better man than you thought.”

“That’s for sure. So going down is not necessarily hell?”

“I cannot see the extent of their placement, but there is a place called spirit prison by some, limbo by others. It is a self-defined confinement, better than any level in hell, but yet on the outer edge of the lowest level of light that is called heaven. Few can visit there freely,” said Sarrif.

“Who can visit there?”

“The teachers,” said Sarrif.

“So everyone who leaves here has to pass through spirit prison before they can reach Heaven?” asked John.

“No. Only those who can’t abide the light. Not everyone goes to spirit prison upon death. We can resume our life at whatever level we attain in our hearts during our probationary period on earth,” answered Sarrif.

John saw movement and noticed Luanne for the first time since separating. He was interested to see what Luanne’s reaction would be to the death around her. He immediately noticed that Luanne’s spiritual aura wasn’t as dark and ugly as the others, that it was much lighter than Steve’s even. John saw a faint shadow cling to the edge of her spirit, but it did not seem to dominate her.

While John and Sarrif continued to talk about Heaven, Luanne cautiously moved about the room examining the collapsed and lifeless forms of the guards. She reached down and grabbed a pistol from the guard that fell by the door, and she quickly slipped it into the waistband of her pants.

John was impressed with her demeanor and thought she should have been more frantic given the circumstances, but she moved calmly around the room, inspecting the dead guards as if they were merely sleeping. When she stopped next to John, Luanne extended a hand and placed two fingers on his neck. After a brief moment she pulled her hand away in surprise. John watched as she immediately knelt and, after removing her pocket knife from her back pocket, cut him free of his bonds. John’s unconscious body slipped to the floor from the chair.

John winced when his head hit the floor, and he said, “That’s gonna hurt when I come to.”

“You’ll be fine, John,” said Sarrif.

Luanne wiped John’s face with a cloth, and again he wondered how such a woman could be persuaded to surround herself with such dark men. She obviously wasn’t committed to the life she was living, and John knew he would help her.

Once again, John felt his body call to him. The urge to return was nearly overwhelming. There was something about Luanne touching him that demanded his attention. It wasn’t intimacy, but it was a
sensory demand. It was probably because she was trying to rouse him. “My body want’s me back,” said John.

“That it does,” said Sarrif. “But you must first warn Pete. Come, let us return to your home. You can rest in a moment.”

With a thought, John found himself standing in his kitchen. Pete was talking with Jenna, Bonnie and Marissa, and he felt their love and concern for him. Their tension was also palpable, and John was at a loss for how to communicate effectively with Pete. “How can I talk to him when he’s like this?” John asked.

“Talk to him as you are talking to me now, but tell him to sit down and calm himself,” instructed Sarrif.

John approached Pete and said, “Pete, sit down. Be calm. Rest for a moment.” To John’s surprise, Pete actually walked into the family room and sat in John’s favorite recliner. “Now what?” he asked Sarrif.

“Now tell him what you want him to know, and either he will hear you, or he will not,” replied Sarrif.

John looked at Sarrif, nodded, and then turned his attention back to Pete. He walked over to stand next to his friend and said, “Pete, I’m OK. I want you to know that I’m fine. I’m safe, Pete. The biker gang is coming. Get ready for them. I’m safe.” John repeated the message, and each time he could see that his message penetrated deeper and deeper into Pete’s mind. Finally, after John repeated the message for the third time, Pete stood and walked back into the kitchen. John looked off into the distance. The pull of his body was nearly irresistible, it was calling to him very strongly.

“I should return to my body, but I need to reassure Jenna too.”

“Of course you do,” replied Sarrif.

John walked over to Jenna and delivered a personal message to her. He was surprised that he didn’t need to repeat the message to her, because her spirit seemed to accept and process it immediately. He saw her smile, and he leaned over to kiss her tenderly on the cheek. “OK. I’m ready,” said John.

“Yes,” said Sarrif. “Go to your body. You will be very tired when you return to it, so rest for a while before you travel. And do not worry about your family and friends, no harm will come to them. I will stay with them.”

John nodded and said, “Yes. I’ll go now. Thanks Sarrif.” Sarrif nodded and John, with a thought, found himself standing next to his body. He looked around the roadhouse as he stood over himself, and saw that he was still lying on the floor next to Luanne. Seeing that he was safe, John slipped back into his body and breathed deeply. The pain in his head and body shocked him, and he jolted upright to a sitting position. Luanne shrieked in surprise, and with her hands on John’s shoulders she urged him to lay back down and relax.

“John, it’s OK. It’s me . . . Luanne,” she said, as she tried to calm herself and him.

John was struck by the familiarity of her choice of wording, and he allowed himself to lay back on the planked roadhouse floor. It was then that he noticed a pillow. A sweatshirt had been folded up and placed under his head for support, and John considered it one of the most comfortable pillows he had ever felt. He looked up at Luanne as she hovered over him. “I have a glass of water for you. Here, can you drink this?” she asked. John nodded and she brought the glass to his lips. He allowed the water to pour into his mouth and down his parched throat. It was warm, but refreshing and very much appreciated.

“Thanks, Luanne,” said John, once the water had relieved his dry mouth. “Man I sure smell bad.”

Luanne chuckled lightly and said, “I’m glad you’re OK. They’re dead you know . . . the other men. They just fell over dead. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I know,” said John.

“What happened? Why didn’t we die?” asked Luanne. She looked around the room as she spoke, “I watched the whole thing from start to finish. My guy was the first to go. I thought he passed out, but I knew he didn’t do any drugs, or drink any booze because Raul put
those things off limits until things settle down. Then I checked his pulse and he was D. E. A. D. dead. And then the others, they just fell to the ground like their strings were cut or something. Everyone but you and me. What’s going on here, John?”

John wasn’t sure how to answer her question, but he knew the truth wasn’t an option. “I don’t know, Luanne. Maybe they were poisoned. Are you OK?” asked John.

“Me? Sure, I’m fine. I’m sorry they hurt you. I didn’t want things to go like this. I wanted to leave, but I had nowhere else to go. You’re not mad at me, are you? You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” she said, as she bordered on tears.

John sat up on an elbow and his head throbbed violently. He laid back down on the sweatshirt pillow and said, “Of course not, Luanne. You cut me free, and you gave me water when I was thirsty.”

She laughed and said, “Do you need more water. I can get you some more. Just don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Luanne ran to the bar with the empty glass and poured John another drink from the plastic jug. She returned and handed him the glass. John sat up long enough to drink the water, and then laid back down. He was exhausted, and had to force himself to ask Luanne for another favor. “Can you get me a damp cloth? I really want to wipe my face.”

She got up and returned to the bar without a word. A moment later she handed John a wet cloth. As John wiped his face and neck, he said, “Luanne, I’m really tired. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. Can you watch over me while I rest for a few minutes?” asked John.

“Yeah. I’ll watch over you, John.” said Luanne.

“Will you wake me at the first sign of trouble?” asked John.

“Yes,” said Luanne, “but do you think we’re safe here?”

“I do. We’re safe here . . . at least for the time being,” said John, as he closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep and coma-like sleep.

While John slept, Luanne went to the bar to get a pan of water to rinse his hair. She also replaced John’s soiled shirt with one hanging on the coat rack by the restroom. She didn’t know what happened, why
the men fell over dead, and why she and John were left unharmed, but she knew it was something special. She had a feeling there was more to John than he was letting on, that he knew how and why the men died, but she couldn’t press him for answers. She had never seen someone enter such a deep sleep so quickly.

As Luanne continued to care for John, she began to see the extent of the harm that she had caused him, and she began to cry. Tears ran down her cheek and dripped onto John’s shirt as he slept. She felt alone, but had she any spiritual awareness she would have felt the presence of several ancestral spirits who were there comforting her, and telling her to have a change of heart and embrace love.

Pete was beside himself with worry and concern for John’s safety. He was late. Pete still couldn’t believe he actually allowed John to attend the meeting without him, and he knew something was wrong, could feel it in his bones even, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He couldn’t mount a rescue effort and leave the house defenseless, not with the threat of the biker gang looming. Paul wasn’t capable of mounting a reasonable defense by himself, and he said so himself, so Pete knew he couldn’t leave. He nervously paced up and down the entryway floor, occasionally stopping to look through the peephole thinking he would see John striding up the walkway.

“Adam! Any sign of him yet?”

“No, Uncle Pete. We’re watching. I swear I’ll tell you as soon as I see him,” replied Adam. Pete heard concern begin to creep up in Adam’s voice, and he realized he had to calm down before everyone in the house was as upset as he was.

“If he manages to knock on the door before you tell me he’s here I’ll . . . kick your butt,” warned Pete.

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