Read Online Centurion: Mark's Gospel as a Thriller by Ryan Casey Waller - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ryan Casey Waller
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me, that is. It was more for Alejandro. I...can't explain it. The torture is inexplicable. It's like hell itself has taken residence inside your body, in your spirit. I hated myself, and I wanted to die."
"How did you escape? How did you defeat them?"
"I didn't."
"I don't understand."
"I was saved."
"How?"
Maria smiles as a soft beam of light splashes into the train. The car levels out, and the train slows down. She stands and says, "You're about to find out."
The train rolls into the park and stops at a makeshift station consisting of a single bench and a battered sign that reads, GETH PARK. I stand and take Maria's hand as she moves toward the open door. "We're here," she says. "Time for you to meet the Teacher."
"Won't the Kingdom look for me here? I'm a wanted man. And...Maria, I'm afraid you are too. That bank guard saw you; he heard your voice. Nothing will be the same for you now; we're in serious trouble."
"It's a possibility, yes," she admits casually, as if discussing the chances of evening rain showers. "Which is why we must find the Teacher as soon as possible. He'll know what we should do. Don't worry," she says with a wink. "I was hoping nothing was going to be the same."
That does it. I would abandon the war and run away with Maria, should she ask me to. Her dark eyes light my own with a force so potent that I could forget everything but her. We could escape to Mexico, return to whatever small town she's from, and live peacefully by the sea. I could forget the oppression of my people. I could maybe even release the memory of my parents—with time. We could simply vanish and hold each other forever. We could drop all these burdens and leave them for someone else to carry.
I could do this.
I think.
I return Maria's wink. "Whatever you say."
The sun is setting as we crawl off the train, the sky a magnificent blend of flaming oranges and soft purples. The air is sweet with magnolia blossoms. The beauty creates a calm in me that couldn't be more opposite than the feelings of dread, fear, and terror I've experienced today. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath of fresh, warm air. It swirls in my lungs before plunging into my soul, where it does the real life-giving work.
I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. The park is dense with Lacey oaks, trees native to my homeland. Despite the intensity of the summer's heat and the severe lack of rain, the leaves are a rich green due to the oaks' ability to survive drought and high temperatures. Complementing the oaks are large collections of wild shrubs that explode with vibrant colors, making the park an exotic sea of yellows, greens, browns, blues, and pinks.
The landscape is small rolling hills upon which groups of people are gathered. Some sit on wooden benches; others lounge lazily on the ground, their backs flat against the warm earth. All of them, I notice, are smiling, laughing, and enjoying one another's company on this serene evening. This park is a happy place, and it reminds me of the South I hail from—the one I thought had been erased by the presence of the Kingdom and its Centurion Guard.
But it hasn't been erased. It still exists, if only in this small, hidden oasis between the trees. "This is wonderful," I say to Maria.
I'm grateful to finally find myself in a space that feels like home—home, as I've known it only in my dreams for the past three years. Home, as I remember it in the quiet corners of my heart and my mind. Home, as I experienced it as a child whose parents loved him and cared for him.
Maria, too, fills her lungs with the clean air then exhales. "I found truth in this park," she says, lost in a delightful memory I hope she'll tell me about when the time is right.
"This park
is
the truth," I say.
"Yes," Maria agrees. "The only question is what you'll do with it, what you'll do
in
it."
"Who are all these people? They don't look like Kingdom loyalists, but they don't strike me as resistance fighters either."
"We're
"How did you escape? How did you defeat them?"
"I didn't."
"I don't understand."
"I was saved."
"How?"
Maria smiles as a soft beam of light splashes into the train. The car levels out, and the train slows down. She stands and says, "You're about to find out."
The train rolls into the park and stops at a makeshift station consisting of a single bench and a battered sign that reads, GETH PARK. I stand and take Maria's hand as she moves toward the open door. "We're here," she says. "Time for you to meet the Teacher."
"Won't the Kingdom look for me here? I'm a wanted man. And...Maria, I'm afraid you are too. That bank guard saw you; he heard your voice. Nothing will be the same for you now; we're in serious trouble."
"It's a possibility, yes," she admits casually, as if discussing the chances of evening rain showers. "Which is why we must find the Teacher as soon as possible. He'll know what we should do. Don't worry," she says with a wink. "I was hoping nothing was going to be the same."
That does it. I would abandon the war and run away with Maria, should she ask me to. Her dark eyes light my own with a force so potent that I could forget everything but her. We could escape to Mexico, return to whatever small town she's from, and live peacefully by the sea. I could forget the oppression of my people. I could maybe even release the memory of my parents—with time. We could simply vanish and hold each other forever. We could drop all these burdens and leave them for someone else to carry.
I could do this.
I think.
I return Maria's wink. "Whatever you say."
The sun is setting as we crawl off the train, the sky a magnificent blend of flaming oranges and soft purples. The air is sweet with magnolia blossoms. The beauty creates a calm in me that couldn't be more opposite than the feelings of dread, fear, and terror I've experienced today. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath of fresh, warm air. It swirls in my lungs before plunging into my soul, where it does the real life-giving work.
I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. The park is dense with Lacey oaks, trees native to my homeland. Despite the intensity of the summer's heat and the severe lack of rain, the leaves are a rich green due to the oaks' ability to survive drought and high temperatures. Complementing the oaks are large collections of wild shrubs that explode with vibrant colors, making the park an exotic sea of yellows, greens, browns, blues, and pinks.
The landscape is small rolling hills upon which groups of people are gathered. Some sit on wooden benches; others lounge lazily on the ground, their backs flat against the warm earth. All of them, I notice, are smiling, laughing, and enjoying one another's company on this serene evening. This park is a happy place, and it reminds me of the South I hail from—the one I thought had been erased by the presence of the Kingdom and its Centurion Guard.
But it hasn't been erased. It still exists, if only in this small, hidden oasis between the trees. "This is wonderful," I say to Maria.
I'm grateful to finally find myself in a space that feels like home—home, as I've known it only in my dreams for the past three years. Home, as I remember it in the quiet corners of my heart and my mind. Home, as I experienced it as a child whose parents loved him and cared for him.
Maria, too, fills her lungs with the clean air then exhales. "I found truth in this park," she says, lost in a delightful memory I hope she'll tell me about when the time is right.
"This park
is
the truth," I say.
"Yes," Maria agrees. "The only question is what you'll do with it, what you'll do
in
it."
"Who are all these people? They don't look like Kingdom loyalists, but they don't strike me as resistance fighters either."
"We're
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