Page 70 of Dead Drift

He smiled. It was a beautiful conch shell, but it was what nestled inside that brought joy to his soul—a starfish—just like the ring he’d given her back in college.

She turned back to face him. “I wanted something that tied me to you in a tangible way, because I knew whether you stayed or left after this mission that you’d always be a part of me.” She cupped his cheek, her hand warm. “The best part of me.”

“I don’t know about that.” He’d messed up so much.

She held his jaw firm, keeping his gaze locked on hers. “I do,” she said, lowering her pink lips to his.

Hours later, torn between the bliss of Katie back in his arms and the reality they faced with Ebeid, Luke sat on the futon with Katie asleep beside him. The two had argued over who would take the bed, neither relenting, so they’d ended up sitting there, feet propped up on the coffee table, each trying to outlast the other.

Finally, his head bobbed, his eyes closed, and his mind drifted to the vivid image of bodies littering the ground. The image continued flashing as the nightmare shifted to fully engulf his mind.

He walked through a silent park, choking on the anthrax-filled air. He couldn’t see the spores, but he knew Ebeid had won. He walked by his friends’ bodies one by one, his soul crushing tighter and smaller with each body.

Declan. Parker. Griffin. Finley. Avery. Tanner.

And there at the end stood Kate, her back to him.

Relief washed over him. She was still standing.

He called her name, and she turned, her abdomen covered with blood. Ebeid stood behind her laughing, gun still in hand. “A loved one for a loved one,” he said as Luke lunged forward, jolting awake.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked, tumbling to the floor.

“Sorry.” He reached down and lifted her back up on the futon as the sunrise gleamed streaming shafts across the pine floor.

He swallowed, his skin clammy, his hair drenched in a cold sweat. “Nothing,” he said, trying to shake out of it. “Just a bad dream.”

And yet . . . it felt so real. Every detail nearly tactile—vivid and eerily present.

“A loved one for a loved one.”

Was his dream a message from God? What had Ebeid been talking about? Had he lost someone he loved? Had their background report on him missed something . . . or someone?

Could that be fueling his actions and the impending attack?

He raked a hand through his hair as Kate did the same to hers, both disheveled. Despite Kate’s wish for him to grab some sleep, he’d planned to stay awake and alert, but sleep had overcome him all the same. Unfortunately, rather than getting a good night’s rest, he’d had a horrific nightmare, and Kate, by the way she was tenderly moving, had a serious kink in her neck.

“Kink?” he asked, walking over to her as she stood and stretched.

“Yeah.” She nodded, then winced with the motion.

“Here.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Let me help.” It didn’t take long for his fingers to feel the knot at the base of her neck. Gently, he applied pressure.

“Thanks.” She remained still, pliable to his touch, but fear tugged at him, pricking his subconscious. He had Katie back. What would he do if Ebeid took her away?

Please, Lord, don’t let Ebeid take her away. Don’t let me lose her. Not again.

Even if he’d chosen to leave the first time, he’d still lost the woman he loved for seven years—all because of his desire to serve his country and to see Ebeid brought down. But when was enough, enough?

Not yet, God whispered. I have chosen you. You will overcome. Trust me.

But what more might he lose in the process?

Katie shifted as he found another knot in her shoulder, and he lessened the pressure.

He’d promised to give all to God, to not hold anything back. If God was calling him to this battle, to face this Goliath, he had to do so, even if it meant death.

He thought of King David, so fearless for his age and stature, but he knew God had chosen him. He thought of the fear Joseph must have felt being dragged away from everything and everyone he loved to be sold into slavery, and yet God had raised him up and used him to save His people.