Course Change: Forever Man—Book 3

By Ed Booth

We also must remember that Christian, the Forever Man, still walks the earth. He does what is necessary to protect those who preach the Word of God. The Holy Spirit has gifted him with long life and power to carry on after weve exhausted our mortal lives.

It is also the Christian who realizes the marvelous partnership between the Word of God and his Holy Spirit and the way they knit together the events of Gods will.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Nov 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781512764475

Ed Booth

Ed Booth is a mechanical engineer living in Central Florida with his wife, Sherry. Ed has worked in the mining and mineral processes industry as an operator, manager, and engineer for thirty-plus years. Writing is a way to express his faith in Christ. The Forever Man series is his first endeavor into the fictional writing field.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The scene passes by before me. I peer across the vastness of the seascape as the deck rolls beneath my feet. In the distance the barely perceptible mountains rise into the sky while before them the azure colored sea reaches me. White caps of foaming froth roll toward the galley’s hull while the resonant sound of waves crashing against the wooden keel come to my hearing.

I have always enjoyed the sea. With distant memories I recall each voyage I have travelled upon. As a young man fishing with Aurelius upon the Aegean, diving into the clear warm water to set the nets, feeling like a bird gliding suspended above the sea floor.

Traversing the Great Sea in search of new adventure and finding them, always the sea was there. Now, another voyage is in front of me and again the sea is there, leading me … where? What new quest has the Word in store for me?

I am still amazed at the Word of God’s aquatic creation, the grand expanse of water, limitless in size and grandeur. A cool wind blows upon my face and the fragrant scent of salty air makes my senses giddy. The bow dips buffeting a wave, the cool spray splashes and rains down upon me, exhilarating my senses again.

My mind wanders as I make my way along the rolling deck toward a perch upon the bow’s railing. I recall what brought me to the ship ‘Zephyris’. Compelled to search out its Captain as I passed the galley at berth in Aquae Fortes harbor … and as if summoned, Quintus appeared at my side.

Is your ship for hire …? says I.

The ‘Zephyris’ is a merchant ship heading to the orient to collect spices … says he.

Can I pay for passage …?

The Captain smiles and agrees, There is always room for a paying passenger … and Quintus held out his hand.

I relax upon the settee and stare ahead. It is hard to discern the difference between sky and water, so close in coloration are they. A small wisp of white cloud periodically comes into view to disseminate the two. Lying back I listen to the rhythmic tones of waves breaking upon the bow. It is not long before I am rocked to sleep. I dream … or am I taken, to the Word of God’s Garden. The beauty and serenity of that place brings peaceful surrender and I feel a yearning within my soul to go and live there … forever!

I see a bright light emanating beyond a vine-covered trellis. A vibrant radiance fills the scene around me with silver light and my Master appears … a warm smile upon His face. The sound of His voice is sonorous, yet calm as He tells me wonderful things. I beg Him to let me stay within His presence … He reminds me that He is always with me.

I come awake … the distant peeling of thunder resonates upon the deck around me. In the distance I see the ominous dark clouds, a bright flash of light streaks from the clouds above toward the water’s surface below. Rising up I watch as the deck hands rush about, pulling the sails down. The ominous beat of the drum lifts from the hold where the oarsmen match the cadence of the drum beat and pull the vessel to the west.

Looking north and then east, I see nothing but water. Quintus is trying to outrun the storm by heading the galley westward. Straining I look for evidence of shoreline. There is none. Did I sleep so long that I missed the ship’s passing from the narrow gulf into the open sea? Surely we cannot be that far from land that we cannot escape.

The wind behind me freshens and I glance east … the clouds grow darker as they billow outward. It is a massive storm. The cadence of the drum quickens as the oarsmen increase the speed of their rowing to match the beat. I rush toward the entry and into the hold … one more man rowing can help. As I enter I see the concerned faces of the men as they struggle to maintain the pace. Through a portal I can see the clouds getting closer.

I take a seat at the rear. Another man joins me and an oar is slid through the hull. We grab the handle and join the crew in rowing. Several more men enter to spell the exhausted oarsmen … the coxswain shouts … Pace yerselves … take turns!

Through gritting teeth I bow my head and focus on making one stroke at a time … trying to match the man next to me on the oar. Several minutes pass and from outside I hear the wind’s howl intensifying. A sudden jolt disorients our stroke as a wind driven wave strikes the stern and pushes us forward. A heavy spray of water blows through the portals and the galley leans to port.

Concentrating on the task at hand, my thoughts are interrupted as men cry out in dismay. The coxswain shouts to the oarsmen … Keep yer wits about yerself …! And pull …!

I do not fear death … the Word of God deemed me immortal … but these men …? What will befall them if the galley is wrecked? Will they survive …? And if not where will their souls return to after they cross the dark pit of physical death?

A larger, stronger wave strikes the starboard hull. The sound of wooden oars snapping and a deluge of water fill the compartment. The galley tilts severely to port, nearly capsizing. Men upon the starboard side fall onto the portside oarsmen. Darkness fills the cabin as terror stricken men shout and chaos ensues. Miraculously, the galley returns upright. The men quickly untangle and get to their feet to try and escape. The man next to me releases our oar and flees toward the exit.

The coxswain shouts … Ye fools … back to yer posts!

Another wave crashes onto the top deck. The sounds of men screaming come to my ears. I glance through my portal and see men awash in the rolling surf. The sky above us grows darker and after another wave crashes, those washed overboard disappear beneath the water’s surface.

What can I do … how can I help?

The coxswain shouts … Lash yerselves … and hold on! the beating of the drum stops.

Wave after wave strikes the galley. We are being pushed onward by the storm. Shutting my eyes I recall the storm that struck John’s Island hundreds of years ago … me safely inside the cave while the tempest howled outside. I remember the sounds of wind mingling with breaking timbers and the next day seeing the ruined remains of ship and dead bodies washed upon the rocky shoreline. Will that happen to us … these men?

I watch the stricken eyes of the men around me. Their eyes have lost hope and are awaiting the final blow. Tear-filled and vacant, agonizing over when the killing stroke will occur. I would shout out encouragement to them if I could … but the roar of the tempest is deafening.

An interminable amount of time passes and there is no evidence that the storm is abating. Between flashes of light I peer outside my portal looking for land. Will we crash into a shore or be inundated by water … how will these men die?

Strangely, I consider that I have not been compelled to pray. It should have been the first thing I did when the storm became imminent. A wave of guilt washes over me. A voice in my mind shouts  …and you call yourself a Christian … shame on you!

I recognize that voice … it is Deception!

I gather my thoughts and begin to utter, Flee from me Satan … you have no power here! and immediately a familiar passage spoken to me by Michael when we entered Pharma entered my thoughts.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; [Psalm 23:4 (KJV)]

Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.

Then a familiar voice … a voice of hope filled my thoughts and I remembered a portion of the Word of God.

And the LORD spake unto the fish, [Jonah 2:10 (KJV)]

and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry land.

We will be delivered!

Anticipation begins as a slight twinge within my spirit. Eagerly I peer through the porthole, searching the dark, roiling seascape for a sign of deliverance. Time passes and I see only the deep foaming swells that surround the galley. Suddenly there is a jolt as the ship’s keel strikes sandy bottom. Then a wave lifts the ship and it lunges forward.

A wave crashes down, filling the entryway and flows into our compartment, inundating it. The galley leans to starboard, but before capsizing the hull strikes bottom, stabilizing the ship. Another wave crashes down, and again water pours through the entryway. The cabin is filling rapidly with water. The hull’s timbers groan as wave after wave strike the ship’s broadside. The hull drags bottom and slowly the ship begins to lean to starboard as massive waves continue to pound against the hull.

Shouting over the deafening sound of the elements, I urge the remaining crew to escape the compartment before it completely fills with water. A crashing sound deafens my shouts of warning as the hulls planking explodes beneath a wave. Seawater completely engulfs the compartment and I swim toward a dim light … hoping it is the way of escape.

I swim through the breached hull and pierce the surface next to a floating timber. Hanging on to the timber I rise and fall with the swells. I scan my surroundings, searching for survivors. A flash of lightning reveals in an instant what has happened. The tempest drove the galley, stranding it upon a sand bar a hundred yards from a shoreline. The tall waves relentlessly crash down upon the hull. It will not be long before the ship completely disintegrates under the constant pounding.

Swimming toward the distant shore, I again search for survivors. My search is rewarded as I see several heads bobbing in the surf. They are ahead of me and are nearing a sandy shoreline.

A resounding crash gets my attention and I turn to watch as the galley explodes under the constant barrage of water. Shattered debris is propelled skyward into the falling rain.

Quickly I turn and begin to swim toward shore. Rising upon a swell I see a man below me dip beneath the water’s surface. He is not far and I turn and swim toward him. Treading water I scan the surface searching … there is no sign of him. Diving below the surface I frantically search the murky water. It is dark and I can see only a few feet, then I am startled as something grasps my heel … it is a man. Quickly I turn, dive deeper and detect the sinking man. Grasping his leather jerkin, I pull the limp figure toward the surface.

Breaking through the tumultuous waves, I breathe in the life-giving air. Then, with limp man in tow, I swim toward the shore. A large wave gathers us and propels us quickly toward the dimming shoreline. As we strike the sandy shore, pain shoots through my extremities and I lose consciousness.

The sun rises and I awake, trying to blink away the bright light. Painfully, I try rolling over, but something impedes me doing so … it is a body. I remember the dim figure sinking away from me … grasping him and pulling the limp figure toward shore. There is no movement from the wet body. Shouting and shaking the figure, I try to garner a response … any response. There is nothing … the man is dead. I climb to my feet and hanging my head in sadness … I walk away.

As I walk the sandy shoreline I wonder aloud, Did anyone survive …? I prepare to shout out, but hesitate as I glance at the thick jungle foliage. It is only yards away. A sense of an unsettling pervasiveness emanates from the thick undergrowth. I turn my attention to the water lapping upon the beach … a wooden piece of flotsam catches my eye and I pick it up and test its weight in my hand and utter while glancing at the jungle At least I can defend myself.

I continue scanning the white sandy beach and the blue sky and surf. Other than the sound of waves breaking offshore, it is eerily quiet. Rounding a bend in the shoreline I look out across a hollowed out bay. The water is aquamarine in color, signifying to me that water is but a few feet deep. It is in the bay that the remains of our galley have collected. My heart sinks, unfortunately so have many bodies of the crew.

I resist a pang of fear and mumble aloud, Did no one survive …? Am I alone … here? I pause for a moment fending off the grip of dread,  …where is here …?

Recounting the last day, and night, I mentally try to piece together where I have been deposited. We became ensnared within the tempest and driven west … for several hours? After striking the sand bar and swimming ashore I struck my head and was rendered unconscious … for how long I do not know. At least one night …? I surmise … the eastern coast of Africa. We were driven off course for hundreds of miles. A direction completely opposite than the one we were originally headed.

Suddenly, the wind brings to me the scent of smoke … it is ahead of me …! Coming from the jungle …? I quicken my pace, scanning the forest’s edge, trying to see through the thick undergrowth. Then the sound of subdued voices reaches me. With a last glance at the sea, I turn and plunge through the thicket of palms and sea oats, following the sound of voices.

Several yards in, I stop and listen … to the right comes the sound of several men speaking at once … they appear to be arguing. Walking in that direction, I come nearer. Through the trees I see several men in a clearing, standing in a circle … there is a disagreement amongst them as the quarrel grows more heated.

I plunge through the undergrowth and startle them … I look around and several crewmen are lying upon the ground, some unmoving. Quintus emerges from the circle of men and advances towards me. It is clear that he is angry as he draws closer with a finger pointed accusingly at me, It is you …! You are the one who has brought misfortune upon us!

Holding my ground I stare at the Captain as he comes closer. When he gets close, he yells and tries throwing a punch at me. Quickly I step aside and let his momentum carry him past me. I quickly seize and overpower him. Misfortune … what do you mean … I brought misfortune to the voyage? I cry out, not understanding.

Several members of the crew advance menacingly toward us … remains of the ruined galley in their hands.

A colorfully clad sailor yells at me, Kill him … it is Quintus who sailed us into the storm! and he raises a broken spar over his head to strike the Captain.

Throwing Quintus to the side, I reach up and intercept the blow the sailor was intending for the cowering Captain. While I stand between the fallen Captain and crew, grappling with the attacking sailor, I feel a sharp pain in the back of my leg … Quintus has stabbed me with a knife! Disarming the sailor and thrusting him away, I turn, realizing that Quintus is using the diversion to try and escape into the undergrowth.

Before Quintus can reach the edge of the clearing, two crewmen tackle him, pinning the frightened man to the ground. Rushing to his rescue I thrust the men away. The remaining members of the crew quickly surround us … evidently intent on killing both of us.

Glowering at the men, I watch and wait. At my feet Quintus cries out pointing at me, Kill him … His name is Christian … he is the one who angered the gods! Suddenly all eyes are upon me, anger and distrust mirrored in each man’s face. Quintus sees this and continues,  …Yes … Yes … kill him!

The brightly clad sailor, who first tried striking Quintus, bellows out, We’ll kill both of you …! Only then will the gods of the sea be satisfied!

A burly, bare-chested sailor rushes out of the clot of men toward me. Above his head he holds a heavy cudgel, intent on bashing my head in with it. As he brings the cudgel down toward my head, I drive my fist into his mid-section. I hear the air exiting his mouth as he collapses onto the ground next to me. Knowing that the crewmen would soon, en masse, fall upon me, I did what I knew needed to be done … I attacked them.

Surprise and bewilderment was etched upon all their faces as I quickly dispatched each one. It wasn’t long before they all lay upon the ground … hurt and beaten.