Compass Call: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 3) (23 page)

“No, it’s OK. I got this. It’s just gonna take me a little time to get over the attack, that’s all,” said Paul.

“I understand. Come on,” said John, as he grabbed the roll of tape, “I’ve got to patch the hole in the tarp over the pool. You can cover me while I work.”

Once the kids were in bed, Paul and Pete were ready to deliver their care package to the baby-mom. The care package was actually a large black plastic bag, one of the heavy-duty contractor grade bags that John favored. The top of the bag was already secured with a heavy black zip-tie. John hefted the bag and said, “Wow, that’s loaded. Do either of you know what’s in it?” asked John. Both men shook their heads. “Jenna! Love, can you come here for a minute,” yelled John.

Paul’s eyes got big and he shushed John, “The kids are asleep.”

“Sorry, my apologies,” said John. He was about to go find Jenna when she entered the kitchen.

“You can’t yell like that with the kids sleeping in the living room,” chastened Jenna.

“I know. I’ve already been told. Can you please tell me what you put in this bag?” asked John, and lifted the bag off the floor with an exaggerated groan. “It seems like a lot of stuff for a first time care package.”

“Let’s see,” said Jenna, as she checked off her mental list, “Three cans of powdered milk . . .”

“Three? Jenna, that’s way too much. One can is more than enough.”

She stared at John for a moment and then started over, “Three cans of fortified powdered milk, two pounds of white rice, two pounds of pinto beans, two pounds of flour, half a pound of salt, half a pound of sugar, four cans of chicken noodle soup, four cans of peaches, six packs of ramen noodles, one box of Cheerios, and a pack of cookies. And I would have given her more if I thought you could handle the weight,” she said with a wink. “Oh, and I think you should take her some water,” finished Jenna.

“No can do, babe. The water
with
the food would be a dead give-away that it came from us. We’ll have to tackle the water issue tomorrow,” said John.

“Fine, fine. Just as long as she gets the stuff,” said Jenna, and she turned around and left the kitchen.

“Well guys, are you prepared to make sure baby-mom gets her stuff?” asked John.

“I’ll get in position to observe the front door before Paul makes the delivery. We won’t come back unless she actually takes the stuff in. Do you have a couple of radios we can borrow,” asked Pete.

“Yes, I’ll go get them.” A minute later John returned with the radios and handed one to Pete. After a quick radio check, John asked, “OK . . . ready to go?”

“We are,” said Pete.

John turned to look at Paul. “Ready,” he said, as he fumbled with were to put his radio. Finally, he handed it back to John. “I won’t need this when I’m with Pete.”

“You’re right,” said John, as he accepted the radio. “I’ll be in the OP waiting for you guys to return. Try not to be seen,” said John.

“Roger that,” said Pete.

“Good luck,” said John, and the two men slipped out the back door. As soon as they were gone, John reattached the two-by-four door
braces he removed from the door earlier that morning, and bolted them securely back into place. He then took up position in the OP and waited patiently for Pete’s first radio report.

For John, waiting around for his men to return was the hardest part of any operations, it’s why he preferred going along, if the mission permitted. He wasn’t one to lead from the rear, and he absolutely hated waiting. But he used the time to write out some basic water purification instructions that could be handed out with the water tomorrow. The last thing John wanted was for everyone to get sick from drinking his water. He had a strong aversion to being burnt at the stake.

Twenty minutes passed before Pete’s first message came over the radio. It was brief and to the point, “In position.”

“Acknowledged,” was John’s only reply, and he entered the communication in the watch log.

Five minutes later another message came over the radio, “Delivered. Returning.”

“Acknowledged,” replied John, and he made another entry in the log. He wanted to climb down and open the side door for them, but the plan was to wait for their radio signal, so he waited. Ten long minutes later, the words, “Request entry at Bravo,” came over the radio. John climbed down the ladder and approached the side door. He knocked the code and waited. The appropriate reply code came back and John opened the door, pistol in hand. The two men silently entered the mud room and John quickly closed and secured the door behind them.

“How’d it go?” asked John. “Tell me everything.”

“Everything went as planned. We traveled through three back yards before emerging to cross the street . . . using the standard two-man cover drill,” said Pete. “Then we approached the target house from the south. I left Paul in position by the garage and moved to a concealed location across the street. When I was in position I signaled Paul to set the bag at the door and alert the mom. Paul proceeded to beat the living crap out of the door. I’m thinking he wanted the entire neighborhood to know we were there.”

“At least I didn’t try the doorbell,” said Paul.

“Good point,” said Pete.

“And it wasn’t that loud,” added Paul.

John snorted once and tried not to laugh. “Anyway . . . you were saying?”

“Anyway, someone came to the door right away, but it wasn’t the baby-mom. It was a man,” said Pete.

John looked at Paul and asked, “Are you sure it was the right house?”

“I asked him the same question,” interrupted Pete.

“Seriously? Yes, I’m positive it was the same house. I swear, talking to you two is like talking to twins,” replied Paul, with a shake of his head. “It’s the same house. Besides, do you two geniuses think it’s possible that she might be married, and her husband might be the one who answered the door?”

John smiled and nodded. “I didn’t mean to doubt you, I just want to make sure you’re confident with the delivery location. OK, good work you guys. Pete, you’ve got first watch I think.”

“I do,” said Pete.

“Do you want me to go get Corbin for you?” asked John.

“Nah, Bonnie’s pulling it with me tonight. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her all day, and I want to catch up,” replied Pete.

“OK, wake me up if you need anything. I’ll see you in the morning. Night guys,” said John. The two men replied in kind, and John immediately headed for his bedroom, and his waiting bed. He wanted to shower, but with the power off and the solar energy down, he realized he’d have to wait till tomorrow. Besides, he was so exhausted that even the thought of delaying his sleep by a second was more than he could bear. John knew they were setting a pretty tough pace for themselves, but the journey was far from over. They had a long way to go before they could hope for any serious rest.

CHAPTER 7

J
ohn woke with a start and reached for Jenna in the dark. She was asleep, lying next to him, breathing softly and evenly, unaware that her man was awake and desperate for company. With a second jolt of concern, John also reached for the small wooden box sitting on his nightstand. His fingers closed over the box and he sighed and smiled broadly. Filled with new and exquisite excitement, he was once again eager to wake Jenna. He wanted to tell her about everything, what he had just seen and experienced, and what he was given. But he hesitated, fearful of rejection, fearful to hear more doubt in her voice when he tried to explain his vision, and the precious prize he now held in his hands.

John knew Jenna didn’t like to hear about his dreams. She thought they were stress, PTSD related episodes from his subconscious, or some other form of mental psychosis that required professional counseling. But John wasn’t bothered by her assessment because he knew she had nothing to go on, nothing to compare John’s abilities to. Jenna didn’t remember her own dreams, and anyone who did was strange to her. Besides, John knew the truth of his visions, and they weren’t related to anything other than his spiritual awakening. As far as John was concerned, if his spiritual activity was psychosis, then everyone who didn’t have or remember their dream was crazy, not him.

After the ash alley dream some two weeks ago, when John first learned of the approaching disaster, he had a new dream or visionary spiritual experience almost every night since. At first, he did wonder if he was losing his mind, but that was a short lived concern. After
connecting with Eli, his unborn grandson and spiritual guide, things really began to change for John. Following an exquisitely painful experience in hell, which was resolved by a miraculous healing in Heaven, John was put on a path of enlightenment. He passed through eight gates. And after shedding the weight, a lifetime of trouble and darkness, after passing through the lies and illusions of physical life, John was able to let go of his earthly attachments and be free. He was spiritually awakened, and it felt awesome.

Before the disaster, John wasn’t sure he believed in Heaven and hell, let alone know what it was about. Like most people, he thought hell was a fictional place, and Heaven little more than harps, singing, and lounging around on comfortable, cloud-shaped pillows. When it came to life, well, his forty-eight years of practical experience convinced him that it was absolute, and everything else was fictional or imaginary. He never thought he’d come to see things the other way around. Indeed, John even thought he had a pretty good grasp on life and death, but he had never been more wrong about everything until he was fully awakened to the truth.

He learned there was more work happening on the spirit side than the physical. All of the lazy, self-indulgent, cushion lounging people were actually on the earth, spending their days as if life was just one big party; they knew nothing of the intricacies of Heaven, of how much effort it took to orchestrate physical life in such a way that balance could be maintained, and learning commence. All the physical interactions, relationships, and experiences that occur are part of larger plan, a plan where nothing happens by accident.

Though he was growing in understanding and ability, John knew he couldn’t yet leave his body without the help of meditation, but he was getting close to stepping out quickly and without so much preliminary relaxation. The gates helped him achieve better awakening and release, and it seemed like every time he worked through them he was better able to separate, but the visons were entirely different. He didn’t know how or why, just that they were. It was like they
were a special form of communication, and he wondered if he’d be able to achieve them without sleep. All of his spiritual visions were remarkable, and instructional, but they were nothing like the one he just had.

John swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He looked at his pillow and was happy to see he wasn’t sleeping. If his head was on the pillow, then he would know he was out-of-body, or OOB, and he would lay back down and try to wake himself again. He was whole, and happy to be so because he knew how important it was to have the box.

He coarsely scratched his head with both hands, and reached for his tactical flashlight. He pressed it on and placed the end in his mouth as he opened the nightstand drawer to remove a yellow legal pad and ink pen. With the flashlight in hand, he walked to the master bathroom’s toilet stall and sat on the closed toilet lid. It wasn’t comfortable for long writing sessions, but it was as good a place as any to record his vision given the time and solitude he sought. John placed the flashlight on the shelf above the toilet and he began to pen his most remarkable spiritual experience to date.

17 October, 2016
,


I was in a valley. Everything before me was green and lush, as if spring had completely shed its gloomy palate of winter colors to reveal itself as the true and beautiful mother of nature. I turned in a slow circle to take in the surrounding beauty, and wondered where I was, why I was here, what I was supposed to see or learn? When I completed a circle I saw, in the near distance, a large white farmhouse. It was a grand two story structure with a pitched roof and many gabled windows. A large covered patio encircled the house along the entire ground floor. Several large trees provided shade, lending a sense of stability and permanence to the area, as if
the building was a sacred and holy place, and the trees special guardians
.