Infinite Sacrifice

INFINITE SACRIFICE

The First Book of the Infinite
Series

L.E. Waters

Smashwords Edition

Published by Rock Castle
Publishing

Copyright © L.E. Waters,
2011

Cover by Digital Donna

e-book formatting
by
Guido Henkel

This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

All rights reserved. Except as
permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this
publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any
form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system,
without the prior written permission of the publisher.

I dedicate this book to all of the
characters in my life…

thanks for the
inspiration

Smashwords Edition, License
Notes

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Forward

I researched the time periods
portrayed in my books and pulled many of my ideas from historic
events. When I involve historical people in my books, I try to
portray them accurately but take fictional liberty with
conversations, timelines, and mysteries—filling in the details
absent from written record. The reader must remember that this is,
first and foremost, historical fantasy fiction. I maintained a
sense of magical realism throughout and hope the reader will take
such leaps of imagination with me, assured that there is
fundamental support underneath this novel but keeping an open mind
to enjoy the story envisioned.

If there are any
doubts as to the accuracy or plausibility of story lines, please
visit my website,
www.laurenwaters.net
, where I
dedicated a whole section to a bibliography and more detailed
research behind this fictional piece just for those who might enjoy
reading further about these cultures, events, and
people.

In regards to the
spiritual/religious aspect of this book, it is not meant to come
across as non-fiction. This is how I perceived heaven to be in an
artistic sense and hope there are readers out there who will
consider it enough for the simple enjoyment of
storytelling.

If at any time you should find
yourself confused with so many intricate character histories, I
have provided a helpful chart that tracks each character’s traits
and progression at the end of each life. It is there to use at any
point during each life to enhance the reader’s
experience.

I would love to take this moment to
thank you for reading this novel and if you could take a moment to
review my book where you purchased it, I would be extremely
appreciative. Reviews are essential to independent authors like me
and even one or two comments can do wonders for my series’
exposure.

Prologue

Disharmonious, chopped sounds
surround me as I fly through darkness. Lights flash far away in
liquid black, as if I’m looking up from the ocean floor, the sun
streaming through the distant surface. I speed nearer toward the
light, which glares brilliantly with painless intensity. I absorb
it through every pore. I crave getting closer to it, to penetrate
farther, deeper—saturating me in a peace I never knew
existed.

I find myself standing trail-edge
in a forest, looking out across an expansive clearing with an
island of wheat fields before me. The light is golden and glowing
off the fields and a warm breeze causes the wheat and trees to roll
like seaweed in strong current. I release the grip of my hand that
Ellie was just clutching.

Am I having another morphine
dream? Did I slip into a coma? Where am I?

A figure moves toward me, out of
the pulsing light.

Finn? I hope it’s
another dream about Finn
.

Instead, a simple old man dressed
in a white tunic and loose pants strides forth, barefoot, and
smiles as if we’re good friends.

“Do I know you?” I ask, sure he’s
mistaken.

“I’ve known you all your lives.”
His sea-glass blue eyes gleam through happily squinted
lids.

Nothing makes sense.

“Where’s my family?” I say, turning
away, searching for them. “I need to be with my family right
now.”

Stretching his arm up with
surprising speed, he touches my shoulder; I calm, all anxiety
forgotten. He takes my hand within his; warmth travels up my
arm.

“Come with me.” His measured words
resonate.

The fields dissipate, and a vast
ocean now rolls before us. Seagulls cry out, gliding on strong
winds, and sandpipers scatter as the waves crash onto their sands.
The old man gestures to pick one of the two wooden beach chairs
facing the water.

“Where am I?”

He begins as I settle in the low
chair, “My name is Zachariah. I am your spirit guide.”

Pulling my hair from my face, I
look over at him. “Am I dead?”

He simply nods but holds my eyes
with a gentle look.

Strangely, I’m not panicking. The
beach looks just like the beach where I spent my summers, with
sea-green surf the shade of Finn’s eyes as the waves crest with the
sun behind it. I’m reminded of the first time I looked into them as
he kept a tennis ball out of my reach—and how shimmering green—they
stole my breath. As I dig my feet into the flour-like sand, it
brings back memories of Finn and Ellie running with me on this same
sand, playing games only children play. Yet we never stopped
playing them, even after college. We drew looks from the passersby
on the boardwalk as we wrestled, threw sand on each other, and ran
into the surf with all our clothes on. I can hear Ellie’s
high-pitched lyrical laughter gliding on top of Finn’s childish
giggle, sailing to me in this chair where I sit without them
now.

My hair blows across my eyes again,
and I realize my short, brittle permanent is gone. My hair’s long
and silky around my shoulders. I glance down at my legs—the tan,
strong legs I haven’t seen for fifty years. I straighten up from
the hunched position I’d grown so used to.

“I’m sixteen again!”

“Souls appear the age they felt
their best.”

My eyes dart to his aged form in
silent question, and he grins. “This is how I feel most
comfortable.”

I look down at my hands—young
hands! No spots, no veins, no shaking. Only smooth, peach,
beautiful hands. Ah! I forgot how great this feels! No aches, no
pains, only flexible strength and boundless energy. I want to run
across the beach and do cartwheels!

As though he reads my mind,
Zachariah gestures over to the sand. I bounce up and do ten perfect
cartwheels in a row, the sand spiraling out from between my toes as
I complete each one. I finish and point toward the water, and he
nods with a smile. I take off, stepping over the small waves and
jumping over the larger ones until I’m past the break. The waves
surge and pull as I dive under the bubbled froth of white
repeatedly. The womb-water calms, and I float over the now sleepy
waves.

When was the last time I
swam?

My ears are submerged as I stare
into the cloud-filled sky.

But where is everyone
else?

As soon as I think about leaving
the water, I’m instantly back in the chair and dry to the touch. I
turn to him with a puzzled look. Zachariah replies, palms up, “No
towels in heaven.”

I sigh and glance around for
something more. “So is this it? Do I just sit here, swim all day,
and do cartwheels with you?” His serious expression continues
regardless of my attempt at making him laugh—maybe spirit guides
don’t laugh. “This can’t be heaven. I thought I’d see those who
passed before me. Where are my mom and dad? Why isn’t Finn
here?”

Things start to darken around me
until Zachariah places his hand on my arm and everything
illuminates.

After a long
pause, he clears his quiet throat and divulges, “This is a
stage
in
heaven.”

I wait, hoping my silence will
force him to elaborate.

He coughs again, as if his throat
fought to stay closed, and states, “I brought you here to relax
while you adjust. It’s a difficult transition. My job is to keep
you calm in order to bring you back to your full
consciousness.”

“Full consciousness?”

“While living, there are areas of
the brain that remain off-limits. After you die, you’re allowed
full access. If I were to give you this access all at once it would
be overwhelming and potentially dangerous.”

“Why do I need to have full
consciousness?”

“So you can remember your spiritual
journey and all you’ve learned to go forward with your next
phase.”

“Like, have my life flash before
me?”

His tight smile
makes his eyes twinkle. “No, have your
lives
flash before
you.”

“Lives? I’ve lived
before?”

Just like that psychic had
said.

“Yes, a number of times before,
Lazrina.”

“My name is
Maya,” I say, suspicious he
did
mistake me.

He cracks a
slight smile. “That was your last life’s name, but your
soul’s
name is
Lazrina.”

The name that crazy psychic called
me.

I look around again. “Do you have
to hypnotize me so I can access my full consciousness?”

“No need for that. When you are
ready, I’ll touch your arm and you’ll gradually access different
parts of your mind, absorbing it back and creating a cohesive
whole. Then you can move on—move on to see your loved
ones.”

“Okay, I’m ready then.” I close my
eyes and put my arm out.

“No, you’re not.” He pushes my arm
back toward me gently. ”You need to understand a bit more before we
do that. First, you need to understand you’ll be seeing your lives
like watching a video in your mind.”

I try to imagine what that would be
like. “Like I’m sitting in a theater watching it?”

“No, more like you’re in a lucid
dream. You’ll open your eyes and you’ll hear, see, smell, taste,
and feel everything that happened to you before. Also like a dream,
you won’t be able to wake until the viewing is over.”