Invisible Terror Collection - BestLightNovel.com
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The drive home was long and cramped. Five bruised and bat-tered bodies squeezed together in a Mustang did not make for the most comfortable ride. Of course, the General Store owner had called up the local doctor and had him check them all out. One of the neighbors even offered to let the group spend the night, but no one was too seriously injured and everyone was anxious to get home. So ...
Ryan was in no shape to drive. Something about a cracked rib, a sprained wrist, and a torn ankle ligament made that a little impossible. Philip thought he should stay in the back with Krissi, so that left either Becka or Scott to drive. And since Scott was a couple of years shy of a driver's license, that left Becka.
The Highway Patrol had been called about the Jeep, and Philip had to sign a bunch of papers promising that he and his dad would be back up tomorrow or the next day (something Philip wasn't too thrilled about). But for now they were all heading home.
The episode had been the roughest on Krissi. Not only physically, but emotionally. No one was certain what all she had been through. She didn't want to talk about it, and no one wanted to ask. Not for now. It wouldn't have mattered even if they did.
As soon as she hit the backseat and Philip wrapped his arm around her, she dropped off into a deep, sound sleep.
"Will she be okay?" Philip asked.
No one spoke.
"h.e.l.lo?" he tried again.
Finally Ryan answered from the front seat. "I'm afraid it's not completely over."
"What do you mean?"
Ryan and Becka traded looks. It was her turn to speak. "There's an empty s.p.a.ce inside Krissi right now, where this Xandrak guy and his jerks were hanging out."
"You mean the demons?" Philip asked.
Becka nodded. "Unless that s.p.a.ce gets filled with something or someone ..." She hesitated. How could she say this diplomatically?
Scott didn't even try. "Then the demons will come back and bring in even more of their buddies."
Philip stared at them in disbelief. "You're kidding. Tell me you're kidding."
Scott shook his head. "It's in the Bible." Philip sighed heavily. He didn't like that answer. Not one bit.
"And by 'someone,' you're talking about Jesus, right?"
"That's right," Ryan answered.
Philip took another breath and slowly let it out. "I tell you, I thought I knew about being a Chris tian, but there's a lot more to this religious stuff than just showing up at church or asking G.o.d for junk."
Ryan nodded. "It's a war. People are fighting for their souls.
We're all in it, and we all need help. None of us can do it alone."
"I found that out in a hurry," Philip said, tenderly touching the scratches on his neck and face. "It's been a long time since I've been clobbered like that." A moment pa.s.sed as he remembered Becka's s.h.i.+ning faith - and his own failed efforts. Then he shrugged.
"Maybe I'll give religion another fling."
"It's gotta be more than a fling," Ryan said. "Chris tian ity's a way of life, Phil. It's loving G.o.d and letting him be your boss.
That's what Lord means. Christ has to be your boss."
"But other Chris tians don't do that. They're messing up all the time. Like my mom splitting and leaving me and Dad behind. Talk about a hypocrite."
"We're all hypocrites," Scott said quietly.
Philip turned to him, surprised.
"Think about it. I just wasted the last couple of weeks of my life doing something I knew I wasn't supposed to do."
"And?"
"And it nearly wiped me out. But the cool thing is, when I realized I was wrong, I asked G.o.d to forgive me. And he did. I blew it - and I'm forgiven. I mean, if you're really sorry and ask, he'll forgive you of anything. That's the whole point." Philip glanced about the car. He had a million more questions, but he was too tired to ask. Besides, these guys probably didn't have all the answers. Maybe no one did. Maybe that's where faith came in. The same faith that had saved his life. And Krissi's.
He looked down at her. When she woke, they would talk. He would explain all that had happened, all that he had learned.
And maybe, just maybe, the two of them would look deeper into Jesus Christ.
He hoped she'd agree. He leaned back and closed his eyes. He sincerely hoped so.
Three days pa.s.sed before Becka checked the computer for any messages from Z. And when she did a cold, hard knot formed in her stomach: Rebecca, Scott: I received an urgent message on the Internet. A young girl in Louisiana is in trouble. She's deeply involved in voodoo and desperately needs your help. You will soon receive airline tickets by mail. Do not be afraid. Your training is complete. Go in his authority. Z
Author's Note.
As I developed this series, I had two equal and opposing concerns. First, I didn't want the reader to be too frightened of the devil. Compared to Jesus Christ, Satan is a wimp. The two aren't even in the same league. Although the supernatural evil in these books is based on a certain amount of fact, it's important to understand the awesome protection Jesus Christ offers to all who have committed their lives to him.
This brings me to my second and somewhat opposing concern: Although the powers of darkness are nothing compared to the power of Jesus Christ and the authority he has given his followers, spiritual warfare is not something we casually stroll into. The situations in these novels are extreme to create sus-pense and drama. But if you should find yourself involved in something even vaguely similar, don't confront it alone. Find an older, more mature Chris tian (such as a parent, pastor, or youth leader) to talk to. Let them check the situation out to see what is happening, and ask them to help you deal with it.
Yes, we have the victory through Christ, but we should never send in inexperienced soldiers to fight the battle.
Oh, and one final note. When this series was conceived, there were really no bad guys on the Internet. Unfortunately that has changed. Today there are plenty of people out there trying to draw young folks in to dangerous situations through it.
Although the characters in this series trust Z, if you should run into a similar situation, be smart. Anyone can sound kind and understanding, but their intentions may be entirely different. All that to say, don't take candy from strangers you see ... or trust those you don't.
Bill.
end.