Soul's Gate Read online

  They needed inspiration. They needed to believe, erase any doubts about going. Reece pushed away the fear that continued to lap at the edges of his mind. He needed inspiration. He needed to believe. Reece pulled out his cell phone with shaking fingers.

  “Hello?”

  “I have to talk, Doug.” Reece clomped up the stairs to his back deck and sat rigid in one of his polished wooden chairs, his body still twitching.

  “About?”

  “Well Spring. The prophecy. All of it.”

  “You were attacked when you were inside.”

  “You’re not surprised.”

  “Something felt wrong when I was praying for you.”

  Reece pushed his hat back and rubbed his forehead. “Something was definitely wrong.”

  “I apologize, friend. I cannot chat at the moment. I have a call on the other line and the rest of my day is absurdly full, but I can chat late tonight or anytime tomorrow from midmorning on.”

  “I’m seeing all of them tomorrow afternoon. I want them to be introduced to each other at least once here before we head for the ranch together. What if I were to call you on the way, say around three thirty?”

  “That will be fine. In the meantime remember, courage is not the absence of fear, it is action in the face of fear.”

  Reece hung up the phone and stared at it. Doug’s words were true. It was enough. For the moment. But even if it wasn’t, did Reece have an option? If the Spirit was in this and the prophecy was true, the only choice was to step into the battle and swing his sword till there was no breath left within him.

  Reece pulled a yellowed paper folded in quarters from his back pocket. Had it really been thirty years since Doug had stood in front of him and spoken the words? He opened the paper and smoothed it out on his knee.

  There will come a day when you will train them—they will be four. The song, the teacher, the leader, the temple. Keep your eyes open to see, your ears open to listen, your heart open to feel, and your mind open to discern.

  When the time comes, the Spirit will reveal each of them to you. You will teach them the wonders of my power they can’t yet imagine. And instruct these warriors how to go far inside the soul and marrow.

  They will rise up and fight for the hearts of others. They will demolish strongholds in the heavens and grind their enemies to dust. Their victories will spread across the nations. You will pour out your life for them and lead them to freedom, and they will turn and bring healing to the broken and set the hearts of others free.

  And when the wolf rises, the four must war against him and bring about his destruction.

  Only they have hope of victory.

  And for one, their vision will grow clear,

  And for one, the darkness of choice will rain on them,

  And for one, the other world will become more real than this one,

  And for one, death will come before the appointed time.

  He folded the paper and put it back in his pocket. Five days from now Reece would explain to Brandon, Dana, Marcus, and Tamera that they were the four. And pray like mad they believed him.

  THREE

  BRANDON SCOTT HELD THE LAST CHORD ON HIS MARTIN twelve-string till its amplified sound was smothered by the roar of more than four thousand fans crowding the SDSU open Air Theatre in San Diego.

  Seeing the audience with raised arms, pouring themselves out to Jesus, used to be an ocean of bliss pouring over him. These days? He didn’t feel anything.

  Where are you, lord?

  Brandon shuddered and let his head drop to his chest. The ache inside seemed to burn through his dark blue T-shirt. So many people right in front of him wanting hope, wanting joy, longing for life, and all he could offer was a formula he’d pumped out seven times this month alone on stages across the country.

  As his head remained down, a smattering of applause floated toward him. They probably thought he was praying for them. He should be. The words of the song he’d just sung were strong and true and eloquent. many would be moved by them. But to him they’d turned into words he’d sung too many times for too many years.

  Where had the old days gone when the Spirit flowed and it didn’t even feel like he was playing? The days when there was no set song list, when he played whatever God told him to play at that moment? The days when he’d stop in the middle of a song and pray for someone in the audience God told him to pray for? Vanished. That’s where those days were. One more song. One more and the concert would be over. Grind it out. Come on. Let’s go.

  “You okay?”

  “What?”

  “Wake up, bro. One more, right?” His bass player, Anthony, bumped his shoulder into Brandon’s. “You with us?”

  Brandon raised his head and forced a smile. “Just pausing for dramatic effect.”

  Anthony laughed, which always made his ultralean frame shake like a lopsided blender. Brandon glanced at the rest of his band and started the count for the last song, “One, two, three, four!”

  The band kicked into his signature closing song, “Run Wild, Run Free,” and they played it flawlessly. At least Brandon hoped they did. His mind was on his meeting tomorrow. Was he really going on that retreat thing? Sure, why wouldn’t he?

  Three minutes and forty-two seconds later, Brandon held his guitar high in the air and pointed at the sky as thundering applause filled the arena.

  “He is King! He is Lord!” Brandon waved to the crowd—flashing a big fake smile—then darted off the stage and down the stairs that led to the dressing rooms. The praise from the crowd seemed to follow him through the corridor, its sound reverberating around him but leaving a metallic taste in his mouth.

  Because it was all a lie. He was a lie. Didn’t used to be. But for the past three years? Yep. Going through the motions. Was God still part of it? Were people still being reached? Probably. He hoped so.

  Hard shoes clicked on the floor behind him. Brandon didn’t bother to turn around. It would be Kevin Kaison. Why was the guy managing him? All the girls Brandon knew said Kevin should be modeling. He had the look—five foot nine, brown hair, lean build. He had the vibe, people liked him immediately, and he was smart.

  Brandon wasn’t going to push Kevin away—he made life on the road and in his marketing and everywhere else run like a finely tuned Jaguar, but managing him couldn’t be the end of Kevin’s desires. Two more clicks and Kevin was beside him, matching Brandon’s swift stride.

  “Sweet show, pal. They love you here. Of course, they love you everywhere.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What song are you doing for an encore tonight?”

  Brandon shook his head. “No.”

  “You don’t have a song named that.” Kevin whirled and walked backward in front of Brandon.

  “I’m not doing an encore tonight.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “No.” Brandon picked up his stride.

  “I heard you the first two times.”

  “Then why’d you ask again?”

  “It was a rhetorical what.” Kevin smacked his hands together. “We need an encore.”

  “My no wasn’t rhetorical.”

  “Stop.”

  Brandon stuttered to a stop and folded his arms. “Yeah?”

  Kevin adjusted his Kangol glasses and pointed back down the hallway. “They’re expecting an encore. I’m sure you must have an excellent reason why you’re not doing one.”

  “I’m wiped out.” Brandon pressed the tips of his forefingers into his eyes until stars appeared.

  “Look at me, Brandon.”

  “Okay.” He offered Kevin a half smile and leaned forward. “I’m seeing you.”

  “Who am I?”

  “Who are you?” Brandon chuckled.

  “Yeah.”

  Brandon folded his arms again and leaned back against the light gray concrete wall to the side of him. “I’m sure you have a point to this.”

  “I’m gues
sing ‘I’m tired’ works wonders with other people, but I’ve been your manager for six years and your friend even longer. You’re at the breaking point.”

  “I’m fine. Just tired. We’ve only had three days off in the last five weeks.”

  Kevin waved his hand back down the hall toward the stage again. “This is the fourth city in a row that has gone crazy asking for an encore, and the fourth city in a row where you’ve refused.”

  “Really. The fourth? I thought it was only the fourth.”

  “That’s hilarious.”

  “Thanks.” Brandon made a half turn and wiggled his thumb toward his dressing room. “Can I go now?”

  “What’s going on with you?”

  “Like I said, I’m tired. I just need some sleep. A few days off the road and I’ll be back to normal.”

  “You haven’t been normal for a long time.” Kevin looked up and down the hallway. “You need this getaway with Reece.”

  “You barely know the man.”

  “True, but I know he cares about you. I know he can’t play the drums but thinks he can.”

  Brandon laughed. “He wasn’t that bad, and the band had a good time with him sitting in for a couple of songs.”

  “And I know him enough to know you need to go.”

  Brandon shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “That doesn’t sound convincing.”

  “I know, but I’m not exactly in the greatest place spiritually these days.”

  “Do I need to say it?”

  “That’s exactly why I have to go.”

  Kevin tapped his nose. “And, uh, do you think God’s telling you to go on this thing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Checkmate.”

  Brandon threw his arm around Kevin’s neck and yanked his manager to his chest. “You’re good for me, bro. I promise, I’m going to Colorado. I need to go. I can’t go on like this much longer.”

  He released Kevin and eased down the hallway toward his dressing room. His manager’s voice called out from behind him, “You’re doing an encore in Phoenix.”

  “I’ll do two there to make up for tonight.”

  Brandon stepped through his dressing room door and shut it behind him. Tomorrow he would meet the others going with him to Well Spring and find out why Reece had refused to tell him ahead of time who the other three were.

  FOUR

  REECE NEEDED A SERIOUS INJECTION OF BELIEF. As HE pulled onto Paradise Lake Road on the way to Snoqualmie Falls Tuesday afternoon, he grabbed his phone and called Doug Lundeen to finish their conversation from the day before—hoping his friend would somehow resurrect Reece’s faith in a quest that now felt foolish.

  “How are you feeling?” Doug’s soft voice floated through the phone, and immediately part of the tension that had burrowed into Reece’s shoulders lifted.

  “I’m not sure we should still go.”

  “You’re going to Well Spring. You don’t have a choice. You’ve put it off as long as you dare. The wolf is rising. It is gaining significant influence in the Kingdom and it has to be stopped. More than stopped. The wolf must be destroyed. Soon. Before it grows too powerful. And you cannot do it without the four.”

  “I realize that, but I’m not ready to take them through the gate.”

  “Do you want to describe what happened yesterday morning inside?”

  Reece told Doug what happened, and his friend listened without comment. When he finished, Doug was silent.

  “What happened to me? What went wrong?”

  “Whose soul were you in?”

  “Cline’s.”

  “How long did you remain inside?”

  Reece sighed. “Too long. But I needed to get acclima—”

  “Which gave them enough time to sense you were inside and come through the gate.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was Cline the best choice to practice on?”

  “He’s solid. You know that.”

  “He is a good man, yes, but he was not the best choice. He has become an infrequent participant in our gatherings out here and his path has been shrouded in shadows for the past few years.”

  “You should have told me that.”

  “You should have asked.”

  Reece glanced at his speedometer and tapped on his brakes. “True.”

  “And how much prayer did you engage in before entry?”

  “Not enough.”

  “Well now, even though the encounter was unpleasant, lessons have been learned and I imagine you’re taking the confrontation inside as significant encouragement.”

  “Encouragement?” Reece gripped his brown leather steering wheel harder. “I got my backside dented in.”

  “Precisely. Which means you’re worrying the enemy. You knew it wouldn’t be easy when you came out of spiritual retirement.”

  “I haven’t been retired.”

  “What would you call it?”

  Reece slowed to a stop and stared at the red light hanging above Woodinville-Duvall Road as he waited to turn left. Yes, maybe he’d been at a stoplight spiritually for a while, but then again maybe the light had never turned green. Not true. It might have been green, but he’d stopped looking at it ages ago. “I’d describe it as having spent a few years not as engaged as I could have been.”

  “You have not truly been in the game for over twenty-five years. To others it probably looks like you’re a pillar of the body, but a number of us know the truth.”

  Doug was right. He’d kept his foot in the water at best. Maybe not even that. Maybe just a couple of toes. It hadn’t been close to enough. For so long he’d longed to dive in deep and wash off the dirt and grime that came from living on the fringes. To quench the thirst in his throat and heart. The past had kept him on the shore, but now the prophecy and Doug’s persistence had pulled him back in. Reece just hoped he could keep his head from going under.

  “I concede,” Reece said.

  “Are all four of them set to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you worried about any of them?”

  “No. They’re all committed.” Reece slid on sunglasses against the light slicing through the clouds over the fields west of Duvall. “I still say it would be powerful to have you there with me.”

  “But it wouldn’t be right.”

  “I know.”

  “This is your battle, friend. Your destiny. You have to lead with a confidence you won’t always feel, release the power that has long lain dormant, and live in the faith of the old days. You must be strong. You can go through the gate again. I believe it. I know it. When the time comes you’ll be ready.”

  Doug’s words seeped into Reece’s soul, and peace started to push back the trepidation lodged inside. “Thank you.”

  “And I will be there with you by interceding in the heavens. All of your old allies out here will be.”

  As Reece hung up, he turned right on Snoqualmie Valley Road and listened for the voice of the Spirit. As the lush spring growth on the trees and in the fields rushed by on his right, the Spirit spoke and Reece knew what he would tell the four of the prophecy. He would use this final day of May to explain how God would unveil the miraculous if they chose to step into it.

  Thirty minutes later Reece sat in his Chevy Avalanche in the parking lot of Snoqualmie Falls waiting for Marcus Amber, Dana Raine, Brandon Scott, and Tamera Miller to arrive—praying they would catch the vision of the revolution that could happen at Well Spring, praying they connected with each other. He asked for strength to fight against the fear that lingered in his mind like a low-lying cloud. He prayed for Doug’s words to take root. Reece prayed for wisdom as he stumbled down a path he hadn’t been on for thirty years, and prayed for a machete to clear the overgrowth clogging the trail.

  Marcus arrived first in his Jeep. The professor got out of his car, threw on a purple University of Washington sweatshirt over his thinning head of dark hair, and glanced
around the parking lot.

  Marcus sauntered toward the small gift shop at the north end of the lot. The shop was full of posters and trinkets based on the falls designed to capture a memory and separate the tourists from their coins of the realm. The bells on the shop door echoed over the asphalt and through Reece’s open window as Marcus stepped inside.

  A few minutes later Brandon pulled into the lot in his old Toyota Tundra. He’d had the car as long as Reece had known him. With the kind of money Brandon made, Reece thought it would have been replaced eons ago. That Brandon hadn’t was one of the many reasons he loved the kid.

  As the musician got out of the Toyota, Reece stepped from his car. “Brandon!”

  A big smile on his face, the singer turned and ambled toward Reece. Brandon’s longish dirty-blond hair waved in the breeze like he was in a music video. If he’d grown up in the sixties, Brandon would have been a perfect addition to the Beach Boys—and he would have been the best looking of the bunch.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “No problem.” Brandon turned a slow circle, gazing at the trees, the Salish Lodge, and the paths that would take them out to the viewpoint. “I haven’t been up here in years. My dad used to bring me here on Saturdays when I was a kid. This place holds some good memories.”

  “Such as?”

  “Spending time with my dad. Getting away from my stepmom for a few hours.”

  Reece gazed at Brandon, waiting for him to offer more on his history. He didn’t take the opportunity. Over the years the musician had always said he’d describe his past when the time was right, but the right time had never arrived. The pain on his face when they touched on the subject said it never would be right. Another reason Brandon needed Well Spring.

  “What’s kept you from coming back?”

  “Life snatches you up, and the days fly by, bro.” Brandon punched Reece playfully in the arm. “Am I the first to get here?”