The Girl (Harbingers): Episode 4
By Alton Gansky
4/5
()
About this ebook
Alton Gansky
Alton Gansky: Alton Gansky is the author of twenty published novels and six nonfiction works. A Christy Award finalist (for A Ship Possessed) and an Angel Award winner (for Terminal Justice), he is a frequent speaker at writer's conferences and other speaking engagements. Alton brings an eclectic background to his writing: he has been a firefighter, and he spent ten years in architecture and twenty-two years in pulpit ministry. He now writes full-time from his home in southern California where he lives with his wife.
Read more from Alton Gansky
Before Another Dies Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/560 People Who Shaped the Church: Learning from Sinners, Saints, Rogues, and Heroes Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Assault (Harbingers): Cycle Two of the Harbingers Series Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Invitation (Harbingers): Cycle One of the Harbingers Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Through My Eyes Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/530 Events That Shaped the Church: Learning from Scandal, Intrigue, War, and Revival Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Bell Messenger: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Beneath the Ice Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Treasure Deep Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Plot Line Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5By My Hands Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Finder's Fee Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Fog (Harbingers): Episode 8 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSubmerged Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Digital Winter Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Wounds: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Unspoken Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Mayan Apocalypse Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dark Moon Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsImagination @ Work Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Reviews for The Girl (Harbingers)
12 ratings3 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The best of Christian fiction authors come together to write a what I can only describe as a novel written in the spirit of an RPG (role playing game): Bill Meyers writes as the tattoo artist, Brenda; Frank Peretti writes as the atheistic professor; Angela Hunt writes as the geeky professor's assistant, Andi; and Alton Gansky writes as the Christian jock, Tank. In an attempt to write episodically like a TV series, these four Christian authors take turns telling novellas that develop into a larger story.I personally fangirled when I found this book. The series is such a quirky phenomenon that it's actually hard to find much about it online. Almost as if the authors didn't mean for it to be widespread. Almost as if we readers stumbled upon their own writing practices that weren't meant for public viewing.But they are. And I couldn't be happier.With writers such as Meyers and Peretti in the mix, you can assume the book delves into quite a bit of Christian paranormal. Four characters inexplicably come together to repeatedly stop evil, often satanic forces, from disrupting the world. And no matter how much the characters may differ from each other, and no matter how much they try to go about their own lives, they continually are brought back together.The writing of each other is vastly different from the others. This can be both a strength and weakness for the series. Bill Meyers tends to write with very short sentences and enjoys testing your suspicion of disbelief, with little to no description or dialogue tags. In his writing, the characters can only show their greatest emotions with no filter or social grace to keep them reserved as we would expect most people to be in typical situations. Everything is an extreme, and while this works well for a high-risk, fast-paced climax or action scene, it struggles when the entire piece is paced this way. The book as a whole may suffer because Meyers's notable style is the first of the four, and if this style irritates some readers, they may not read beyond the first novella. However, those who enjoy Meyers's writing style will find him as familiar as an old friend and enjoy how he crafts the characters differently from the others.Personally, I most enjoyed Frank Peretti's novella. It reminisced of his and Dekker's 'House' standalone novel because of the mysterious and inexplicable mansion that appeared in different places throughout town. In fact, it seemed as if Peretti took several of his story concepts and reintroduced them here. Not only 'House,' but 'This Present Darkness' seemed to have a few moments of inspiration that then affected the rest of the book. Frank Peretti's style is so intense that it left me, a twenty-year-old college student, afraid of the dark. Ha! After I finished the book, I discovered a YouTube video of Peretti reading the first chapters of his novella in his deep, suspense-radio-drama voice. Definitely worth the search if that kind of stuff interests you.As a disclaimer, this is a grittier Christian fiction than typical in its genre. Few of the main characters are religious, and the one character who does identify as Christian was written as young and naive (though overall still likable). The book handles things like paranormal and satanic influences, and while the characters are all united in fighting the evil, like a TV series, the ending doesn't fully resolve, but instead promises more to come. My one main frustration was that some of the authors chose to insert questionable language. While some of the offensive language is merely crude, others border on taking the name of God in vain, even though I think the authors meant the outbursts to be a prayer of some sort.Each of the four authors do a gripping job at writing the characters in the book and sucking you in with the same kind of attraction Netflix does with 'Stranger Things.' This is a binge-worthy book.Things to Watch Out For:Sex: A comment about "sexual desires" pg 139Language: screw-1 pg 95, a-1 pg 122, p-2 pg 15, 122, crap-1 pg 122, "she flipped me off"-1 pg 123, G-1 (possibly a prayer) pg 142; G's sake-1 pg 146; several prayerful comments in the last quarter from a Lutheran character, but some of them seem to border on being flippant. "Blessed J" (supposedly reverent) pg 288Violence: Characters run from peril and satanic forces. A mysterious house afflicts characters with hyper-realistic nightmares. Child kidnapping. Murder. Several characters are dragged toward a door to Hell. Characters are forced to be presumably possessed with the Devil. A child is stabbed.Drugs: None that I specifically remember.Nudity. NAOther: Demonic activity and situations involving demon possession. A character is a tattoo artist and can see into the future. Characters each have special, unexplainable gifts such as healing, visions, etc.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Like the one hours television shows that flash the forensics and solve the mystery, this book builds on a common supernatural theme. The novella format allows for only superficial character development. The stories, like many TV season finales, leave many issues unresolved. While it is not a satisfying beginning, middle, end story, it is worth reading just to see how the unique format could work. LibraryThing Member Giveaway randomly chose me to receive this book free from the publisher. I was under no obligation to write a review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I didn’t really know what to expect when I chose Invitation to read and review. Oh, I knew that the 4-novella collection was authored by some of the best authors in the field of Christian fiction, and that I have never been disappointed by anything they have written. I also knew that their writing style, characterization, and plot-development suited my reading tastes. But I didn’t know I would be led on a challenging and twisting journey that included mind-bending situations. Invitation is speculative fiction at its best. It has a unique format that suits the genre well — short, episodic novellas, changing points of view, and story lines which at first seem unrelated, but soon come together in a coherent manner. There is something weird going on, and this reader enjoyed every minute.Each novella in the collection has a different author and the unique voice of one of the four main characters. Four very different people with strange gifts are brought together in what can only be called a supernatural way. And try as they might, they cannot keep from forming a team to investigate and somehow impact weird happenings. I loved how the authors’ collaboration brought forth a cohesive whole. This cannot possibly be easy to achieve, but they somehow managed to achieve unique stories within a consistent framework.Evil seems to be having its way in Invitation, but there is a sense that God is at work in big ways in the world and in the lives of the main characters. I think the spiritual journey each character embarks on is my favorite part. As each challenge is met, the characters learn more about themselves and their place within a spiritual world. Each novella is wrapped up in Invitation, but the story is far from over. Invitation is just the first novella collection in this series.Invitation is gritty and edgy; not your typical CF. So don’t be surprised if this book takes you places you didn’t expect with characters that don’t often show up in normal novels. You just need to do what I did — sit back and let the authors take you on a trip you won’t forget.Recommended for fans of speculative fiction.Audience: adults.(Thanks to Bethany House for a complimentary copy. All opinions expressed are mine alone.)
Book preview
The Girl (Harbingers) - Alton Gansky
Gansky
CHAPTER
1
Snow
JANUARY 1, 7:10 A.M.
You’re gonna love being a cop, Tank. Yes sir, you’ll fit into the sheriff’s department just fine."
I wanted to slap my forehead but I had too much respect for Uncle Bart. Instead, I kept my eyes directed out the passenger side window of the patrol car and took in the scenery.
You don’t even have to finish college, boy. Of course, that doesn’t hurt nuthin’, but I’m just sayin’.
That made me take my eyes off the snow-covered fields. "Momma wanted me to go to college, Uncle Bart. I gotta go. I wanna go. I like it."
Hey, no problem, son. There’s no rush. I could use you up here with me. I might just be a small town sheriff, but that doesn’t make the work no less noble, does it?
No, sir. I admire what you do. I just don’t know if I’m cut out to do it.
Uncle Bart—Sheriff Bard Christensen to everyone in Dicksonville, Oregon, and the other small towns that make up the county—directed the car around a bend. I could feel the tires slip some and heard snow crunch beneath the treads. The tail end of the patrol car did a little fishtail.
Uncle Bart chuckled. I love driving in this stuff. I wish we got more snow around here. Not enough to shovel, you know, just enough to keep life interesting.
I released my grip on the door handle. To tell the truth, I had enough interesting
stuff happen to last me a lifetime, and I had a feeling more was coming.
I didn’t scare ya, did I, boy?
No, sir. I was just makin’ sure the door didn’t open. It might get dented or somethin’.
Uncle Bart smiled big. "Sure ya were, son. Sure ya were.
A few moments later, Uncle Bart turned serious. I think that’s him up there.
He nodded to a man standing on the side of the road. He looked to be in his early seventies and wore a heavy wool coat over what I guessed was denim overalls. We pulled to the side and exited the car, then walked to the old guy. Yep, overalls.
Sheriff.
The man nodded. He had an accent. Maybe from the northeast. Maine?
Mr. Weldon.
Uncle Bart extended his hand.
You can flush all the ‘mister’ stuff, Sheriff. Just Chuck. That’s what everybody calls me. Chuck.
Yes, sir.
Uncle Bart smiled. Chuck, this is my nephew, Bjorn Christensen, but everyone calls him Tank.
Ayuh, I can see why. You’re a biggun’, aren’t you, son?
He looked puzzled. Wait, ain’t you the one who plays for the Huskies?
I didn’t know how to answer. Thankfully, he moved on.
Not much of a college football man, myself, but the sheriff here was telling everyone about you gettin’ that football scholarship. He’s real proud of you, he is. I hear that he’d lock up anybody who didn’t want to listen.
He followed the comment with a chuckle.
Uncle Bart came to my aid. You called about something strange on your property, Mr. W—, um, Chuck.
Ayuh, that I did. Could be real important so if yer done yappin’ I’ll show it to you.
"If I’m . . . yes, sir. Of course. Lead the way."
Follow me.
Chuck talked as he walked. So, Tank, you gave up football to become a deputy?
No, sir. I’m just visiting.
I was about a step and a half behind him. Football is over for my team. We didn’t have our best year.
We watch the Rose Bowl together most years.
Uncle Bart acted casual but I could tell he was scanning the ground. I knew why. When Mr. Weldon called he said there were some strange tracks Uncle Bart should see. Probably just a three-legged rabbit,
he had said. That was Uncle Bart’s way. He made light of things. Everything.
It ain’t far, maybe another hundred yards or so. I was out this morning checking on my animals. I don’t have many no more. Too old to take care of them. Too much arthritis. My feet ain’t much good anymore. Sugar in the blood, don’t ya know.
Diabetes?
I said.
Ayuh. I should’ve taken better care of myself, but I was always more concerned about the ranch. Ain’t always been in the condition it is now. We used have a good number of cattle and other livestock. . . .
A sadness seemed to trip him mid-sentence.
They give you pills for the diabetes?
It was none of my business, but I couldn’t help asking. Uncle Bart cut me a hard look. I shrugged.
Stuff’s expensive. The insulin is worse, and all I got these days for income is my Social Security check, and there ain’t much of that.
The sadness that seized Mr. Weldon turned on me. I felt like I should say something but couldn’t put the right words together. Poor old guy had everything working against him: age, disease, and poverty.
I got three things to show ya. Here’s the first. I ain’t gonna tell you anything about it. I’ll let you jump to your own conclusions.
Let me guess.
Uncle Bart was smiling again. Maybe he was trying to lighten the moment. Bigfoot came to visit.
If he had, he’d be lying dead in the snow. I’m old, but I can still shoot straight.
He slowed. Now watch yer step.
I had noticed that he stayed close to the tracks he had made when he walked to the road.
Mr. Weldon pointed. As you can see, Sheriff, these ain’t Bigfoot tracks. If anything, they’re Littlefoot tracks. If you catch my drift.
I stayed close to Uncle Bart and looked at what Mr. Weldon was pointing at.
A chill rose inside me. It didn’t come from the snow, or the stiff breeze coming off the nearby mountains. This cold started inside my bones and clawed its way to the surface. No heavy coat can keep out a chill that starts on the inside.
Uncle Bart swore.
Yep. My sentiments exactly,
Mr. Weldon said. You see now why I called so early?
I’m not one of those people who frightens easily, and Lord knows I’d seen some pretty chilling stuff over the last few months. During football season, I faced some pretty big guys. I’m big. Six-foot-three and a solid 275, but the guys I played against last season were bigger and meaner. There were several players on my University of Washington team who made me look small. Still, they don’t frighten me. I like to think my faith has something to do with that, but this—
Tell me what you see, Tank.
Uncle Bart was testing me. For a moment I thought about giving a dumb answer—people are used to that from me—but this seemed too important. Besides, I didn’t like the idea of trying to fool Uncle Bart. Stop thinkin’, boy; give me your first impressions.
It’s a footprint.
I raised a hand. I know, that part is obvious.
It took me a moment to get the words to flow. It’s no animal. It’s a human print. Small and—
The next part was difficult to say. I can see toe prints.
What does that mean to you, son?
Uncle Bart raised his gaze to me. Maybe it was my imagination, but he looked almost as white as the snow on the ground.
They’re the footprints of a child. A child without shoes.
I inhaled a lungful of cold air. Uncle Bart. The kid is going to freeze his feet off.
He turned to Mr. Weldon. Give me a sec, then I want to see what else you have to show me.
Mr. Weldon answered with a nod.
Uncle Bart raised the portable radio mic that hung from his shoulder to his lips, pressed the microphone key, and reported what we had found. "I want everyone on this, Millie. I also want the helo up in the air. You know who to call