Shifted

By Jon D. McCullough

“My name is Q. Chase, and I don’t know who I am. Every day I want to kill someone, and every day, I want to save everyone. I have sixteen voices, whole identities in my head begging me to set them free. Who am I? I may never know, but I did see the sunrise again, one more time. I can always be thankful for that. I need a distraction. Will someone just be murdered soon, please, or I am going to lose my mind. I have to feed the voices, or they are going to eat me.”

“I know that makes me sound like a madman, I feel like a madman, but I can assure you that I am not mad. I have tried everything I could think of, my shrink could think of, but nothing helps me like a murder or a mystery. My heart is good, and my faith in God holds back my madness. If you knew my story, you would feel sorry for me, but I don’t want that. I hate pity, while another part of you would despise me as a villain, the one thing I never wanted to be”

WHO IS Q CHASE?

“Shifted” is a book about Q. Chase, a man with sixteen other personalities living inside him. He uses their gifts and abilities, he is capable of anything from fighting to languages. He is unimpressive on the outside, but supernatural with his actions. He works with the FBI and local law enforcement in Austin, Texas after a string of mysterious murders go unexplained. This is a battle of good over evil, and Q. Chase must choose between the life he wants to live or the dream never thought possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Apr 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781664263147

Jon D. McCullough

Jon D. McCullough is a pastor in San Angelo, Texas. He is married to Charity and has four children. He was raised in California until the age of twenty-one, then went off to play college basketball. He went to bible college at Southwestern Assembly of God University in Waxahachie, Texas, graduating with a pastoral major. He pursued inner-city ministry with his wife, Charity, in Denver Colorado. Later, he pastored in Hereford, Texas, and Ozona Texas, then he planted a church in Pine Bluff, Arkansas. He was called back to Texas to San Angelo to pastor JAG. Jon’s passion is sharing Jesus and making disciples. He values the written word and has continued his writing since his teenage years. He is currently pastoring in San Angelo, Texas. Jon has written Dulapa, Dulapa: Prince’s Revenge, and the non-fiction book 20/Twenty Evangelism.

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SHIFTED

WHO IS Q. CHASE?

Jon D. McCullough

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Copyright © 2022 Jon D. McCullough.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

844-714-3454

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.®

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6313-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6315-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-6314-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022906596

WestBow Press rev. date: 04/12/2022

CONTENTS

Prologue–Q. Chase

Chapter 1–Genesis Martinez

Chapter 2–The Red Coin

Chapter 3–Danny Page

Chapter 4–The Morning Impromptu Meeting

Chapter 5–Covert recruiters

Chapter 6–Dawne Oakes

Chapter 7–Layers and more Layers

Chapter 8–Zion- You can do anything.

Chapter 9–Jax Zion

Chapter 10–Q. Versus Jax

Chapter 11–The Wormhole discovery

Chapter 12–Zhan Yen

Chapter 13–The Decision

Chapter 14–Flashy Evidence

Chapter 15–A Night Out

Chapter 16–Perez Frate

Chapter 17–Problem Solvers

Chapter 18–Jill Marion

Chapter 19–Loose Ends

Chapter 20–Greg Smart

Chapter 21–Spider-Sense

Chapter 22–The Frate breakfast

Chapter 23–Option one or option two

Chapter 24–Twenty-Two hours

Chapter 25–The Breakthrough Session

Chapter 26–The Coins

Chapter 27–Bad visits

Chapter 28–Decoding Lines

Chapter 29–The Long Day Home

Chapter 30–Getting Close

Chapter 31–Danny Page’s Late Night Visitor

Chapter 32–Deep dreams

Chapter 33–New York State of mind

Chapter 34–Downward Spiral

Chapter 35–The Dawne interruption

Chapter 36–Q.’s plan

Chapter 37–The disappointed villain

Chapter 38–Jill Marion’s Dilemma

Chapter 39–Last-ditch effort

Chapter 40–The first and the last visitor

Chapter 41–The Take-Down

Epilogue–Carlos and Sofia Castillo

DEDICATION

I want to thank God for all He has done in my life,. I am so appreciative to Jesus for saving me, and for being patient with me.

I thank my dear friend Peter Thornton, he has always believed in my writing. Peter has supported me in my dream of using written words to bless and help people to know and understand how amazing Jesus is.

PROLOGUE

Q. CHASE

My name is Q. Chase and I don’t know who I am. Every day I want to kill someone and every day I want to save everyone. I have sixteen voices, whole identities in my head begging me to set them free. Who am I? I may never know, but I did see the sunrise again, one more time. I can always be thankful for that. I need a distraction, will someone just be murdered soon, please, or I am going to lose my mind. I have to feed the voices or they are going to eat me.

I know that makes me sound like a madman, I feel like a madman, but I can assure you that I am not mad. I have tried everything I could think of, my shrink could think of, but nothing helps me like a murder or a mystery. My heart is good, and my faith in God holds back my madness. If you knew my story you would feel sorry for me, but I don’t want that. I hate pity, while another part of you would despise me as a villain, the one thing I never wanted to be.

I wonder, is today the day that I lose control. It is like sixteen different identities are in a Wrestle Mania cage match, and I am the cage. They are living in my body and soul. I tell myself to just make it through to the next moment, that is how I have made it these thirty excruciating years. I have a reciprocal relationship with each person living inside of me. They keep me working, and I use their gift when I need to break the case for the FBI or local police. I like to help people, the main me wants to be good and make the world a better place.

That is my secret, no one can know it no matter what the cost. I need to release the voices, it is too crowded. I know it sounds like I am insane, I would have to even agree sometimes, but I make it work. I can do that because of my belief, I believe in God, at least a part of me does. The other person tearing at my soul is dead, he wants to be set free, but he won’t let me die either. Faith and death are always battling and they are the dominant forces within me.

I know what I can do, but I don’t know who I am. I need to be me, to be whole, to be one me. However, I don’t know how to be that way. I wish I knew another way, a life where I was not trapped. I want to be free to think and breathe like everyone else. There is no one like me, my name is Q. Chase, and I may explode right here and right now if my phone doesn’t light up.

I have researched my condition, and I am a new breed of clinically unbalanced. When I shift between the different slivers of me, only I am aware of the change. I am sure I seem strange to all around me, but they don’t know who I am. I wish I knew how to answer that same question, who am I? I could be a serial killer, or I could save the world as an improbable hero. How did I become such a monster, a madman, that part I do know and I am taking the secret to the grave.

My origin story is hard to believe or even hear. Some things should be locked behind a strong door with an unbreakable lock, never to be revisited. I guess that explains much about my memory. I have never loved another person, I won’t let them in. There is a bad part of me that is blocked, I know it is pure darkness, a vortex of evil that is tucked away. I am sure that it is for my good.

What is my dream? I can tell you without even thinking about it. My biggest hope is always on the tip of my tongue, I want the peace of being one complete person, not seventeen people sharing a single body. I want to feel the sunrise on my peaceful face as a healed person. I want to live a life not barely exist. I don’t dare to dream that I could find love, but peace would be enough.

I need a hero, I am holding out for a hero…. The phone lit up and my ringtone of the favorite song charged my face with relief and exhilaration.

Yes, I feel horrible it takes a murder to get me right, but I must feed the other people inside me. I moved to pick up the iPhone and I could feel the pressure releasing in my soul almost instantly.

Hello, this is Q.

CHAPTER 1

GENESIS MARTINEZ

RED BUD ISLE, AUSTIN, TEXAS

"S parky, Sparky, Sparky!" A bothered dog owner screamed over and over as his black and white Labrador took off toward the lake in Red Bud Isle. The overweight man lost sight of his pride and joy but sought him out diligently. The seventeen-acre dog park was a popular place for dog lovers to set their pets free to roam and play as a free dog should. The park was ideal with open grassy play areas, lakes, and fun paths to journey on.

Sparky, Sparky, Sparky, come on boy! The man continued as he busted through, from the dirt path to the lake at the right. There he caught a glimpse of his dog Sparky leaping into the lake and swimming. The dog went under the blue-green liquid surface and popped his black and white furry head up a few times. Then he went under for way too long. The haggard face man leaped forward and got as far as his right foot in the water. That was when Sparky popped up his head with an unexpected reward for his swim. He had a sleeve, with a hand peeking through, connected to a found corpse.

The swollen body was too heavy for the Lab so he let go and swam out until Sparky joyfully ran to its owner. The man was flabbergasted, and scared. He immediately albeit shakily dialed nine-one-one. Hello, this is Paul Sanders, I am at Red Bud Isle. I… I mean my dog found a body in the lake. It is a dead body.

Yes Paul, stay on the line, I just have a few more questions, what part of the Red Bud Isle are you at?

In the back, to the west. It is near the dam. Paul clearly described his location.

Okay, we have your number and location, the police have already been notified, they are on the way, please stay there to give them some more information.

Yes, yes, of course, Paul replied, pulling Sparky close.

The phone rang on the organized desk of captain Julia Jackson of the Austin police department. The five-foot-six Atlanta, Georgia transplant to Austin casually picked up the landline. She asked, Where, okay, who found the body? I’ll send some guys down there now. She wrang her ebony hands and walked with purpose out of her office.

Cash and Nasser, get out to Red Bud Isle, we caught a body. Take a couple of unies with you. I have the coroner already on the way, he is ahead of you. Captain Jackson barked out.

Benny Cash Love was an above-average detective, in height and skill. He did the leg work but moved with great intuition and instincts. He was an honest man with a quick mind that was good for instant humor. His partner was Dirk Nasser, a scarecrow of a man, tall and lanky. He was the serious and clever type. They gave captain Jackson their attention and quickly they were off.

Dirk, I’m driving, give me the keys! Cash demanded with his outstretched open right hand.

Nope short stack, then I would have to adjust the seat, they bantered as they made their way to the blue Dodge Charger.

Dirk, I am six-foot-two, that’s above average, so back off and give me the keys. You might be taller, but I am an ex-college middle linebacker. Cash said, pushing back but willing to yield to get out there.

Dirk swiped at Cash, Why do you have to be such a Boy Scout all the time?

Why do you have to be such a scarecrow? Man, you fit right in with the Austin scene. Cash volleyed back, readjusting his seat belt, pulling it across his chest until it clicked in.

What did Cap say, by the dam, we’ll need that location, there is way too many acres over there. Why would anyone drop a body out there, it’s a dog park. Dirk went into case mode.

Cash worked off of Dirk, The dogs swim and smell out anything out of place, maybe it was a desperate move.

They arrived a few minutes later and walked up on the edge of the lake. Only the upper torso of a young Hispanic woman was visible. The lower half, her legs, and her lifeless frame were dangling and hidden in the water. The man who found the corpse held back his Lab, Sparky was jumping and trying with all the might his four legs could muster to return to his prize.

The coroner had already arrived and pulled the young lady to the shore. Jack Watson, the long-time coroner, then invited the detectives to take a look. Dirk brushed by Cash to the right, not rude, but in a hurry. Dirk wanted to lead the way to the body. Her bloated frame and her black tangled hair were stinking like rotten fish and death itself. Cash and Dirk moved closer to investigate. Dirk was scanning her from head to toe, then He moved to inspect her shoes.

They both noticed the obvious shots through the chest and the forehead. The lake water had washed away all relevant evidence. It was crystal clear to Dirk what put this unfortunate young lady in the lake. He was done with the inspection of the crime scene and began to actively try to hurry it along.

Cash zeroed in on the right front pocket of her jeans. There was something in the right front pocket. It was small and circular, pushed deep down in the corner of the wet fabric. He wrangled his hands down the wet pocket and felt it, a coin of some kind. He pulled the coin up and out, it was the size of a half-dollar. It was not like other half-dollar coins. It was heavy, possibly made of pure silver. The coin was painted red with something like paint, but thicker.

What do you got there, Cash? Dirk drew close, very curious. He snapped out of his I don’t care anymore attitude.

A very interesting coin, I have never seen anything like it, but it’s… Cash answered back as if he was distracted.

Cash held the red coin up and studied it, the golden emblem with multiple curving lines that intersected each other. He flipped it to check out the other side of the coin, it was like the other. His gloved hand rubbed it one last time. Then he slid it into the evidence pouch. Jack Watson tilted his strong voice toward the detectives, I have something for you guys.

Let me see the coin, Dirk demanded.

Let’s just check the body, hold on for a sec’ Dirk. Your so tall that the air is not reaching your head. Cash said and laughed as he walked over to the coroner.

Yeah Jack, what is it? Dirk said, giving Jack his full attention. His angry demeanor was easily seen.

They both looked to the right when there was a Click sound and then there was a sudden movement behind the bushes. It was a reporter, they waved a couple of officers in the direction of the sound, and Danny Page was apprehended. Let me go, I’ll go, fine. Hey Cash, what did you find in the pocket? Said Danny Page, a reporter for the Austin Standard. He was tossed behind the police cars and given two options; jail time or stay put.

Danny checked the buttons on his suit vest. He believed that if you dress sharp you are sharp. So he never left the house without an excellent outfit. Usually, black or brown high brow ironed khakis and a high thread collared shirt with his black Nike running shoes.

Dirk griped, Why can’t they keep this guy off our crime scenes, I am going to hit him.

Be my guest, he is like a well-dressed cockroach. You might think he is gay with all that metrosexual vibe, but I heard that he pulls. Cash laughed then gave his full attention back to the swelling body.

Jack said, We don’t have an identity yet, but I put the time of death between twenty-four to thirty hours, based on the temperature, and percentage of water absorption. Those gunshots to the head and chest didn’t help this poor girl. I will need to study her more at the morgue.

Do you think we can find any clues? I mean, she was so long in the lake. Dirk pressed him, stepping a little closer to Jack Watson.

Jack put his right arm out in the Iron Man shooting position and said, Back off there hero, relax, we may still find more information. Your always right on to the next one Dirk.

Dirk tried to pull Cash along with him toward the car. Cash, the stouter and shorter man by four inches, pushed him away, I am coming, but don’t touch me with your scarecrow hands. Jack, we’ll see you back at the precinct. They said goodbye to Jack and he waved back halfheartedly.

Captain Jackson got a phone call behind her soundproof glass walls that had her hands waving. The call even drew her out of her seat. After a few minutes she hung up dejected, but somehow still determined. Jackson burst through her door and made a beeline for Cash and Nasser. They were at their desks trying to figure out the identity of the new victim, Jane Doe. The corpse lay cold and lifeless in their morgue. She had a story to tell, but no pulse to do so.

Nasser, Cash, what is going on with that crime scene? Jackson clamored as if there was more to the story. She didn’t usually jump on them so quickly.

It was a clear and simple one-eighty-seven. The body soaked for so long, I don’t see how we are going to find any evidence. Looks bad cap’. Dirk relayed his negative nelly perspective.

It isn’t as bad as it looks, we got this, like a free pizza on a Friday night. Jackie morgue will have something soon. Cash encouraged while giving Dirk a disapproving glance.

What is this about a red coin on the body, where is it? Jackson insisted, too concerned for the moment. Jackson was too focussed on the one discovery.

Who told you about that, we just signed it into evidence. It was different. There was a symbol on it that I have never run across. Cash was still trying to explain when Dirk broke in, What is going on Cap’, why are you locked in on that? Captain Jackson set her face, not wanting to say her next words. She paused for way too long, and Cash spoke her very thoughts.

That coin has been linked to two other murders; one in D.C. and the other in New York. We may have company with this one. Captain Jackson shared with them and the news rested on them that they were all about to see the FBI walk through the door.

You know cap’, we need to call him. He would be a lot of help on this case. Cash said and Jackson nodded approvingly, Do it, and tell him to come right away.

Dirk reacted immediately, No, no please, not that mutant, he muddies it all up, why him?

Cash said, You know that Q. Chase he is a total closer, we have a body devoid of real evidence and a mysterious coin that is connected to two other murders in Washington D.C. and New York.

Dirk wrinkled his face like he ate a sour candy. That was his complaining face then Dirk said, Q. Chase is weird, and how does he know everything, there is something wrong with Q. Chase! The report came on the victim and was shared amongst them.

Cash moved into the hall and dialed the number for Q. Chase. He let it ring once, and twice… Hello, this is Q. Chase….

We just got the report on our girl, her name was Genesis Martinez. She was twenty-two years old and a student at UT at Austin. It looks like she worked at…..I thought one of the tech companies here, maybe a start-up, maybe not. Jackson demanded that they get cracking on the whereabouts of miss Genesis Martinez just before her death. They were about to split off in different directions, to try to figure out each facet of the murder. That was until Joss Leven of the FBI walked in.

She strode in with a gritty and confident gait, she was tall for a lady at five foot nine, black pants, blue dress shirt, and black leather jacket. She holstered her cell on the right hip, her gun on the left. Her jet black hair was long and straight. Joss Leven was in charge and she knew it. It was not in a bossy mean way but more in a relentless catch the bad guy way. She cared about justice, and she held on to the end no matter what.

The gaggle of officers at Jackson’s meeting were not sure what to do. Should they break and start or have the real meeting with Joss Leven? They chose the second option and Joss smiled appreciatively. She knew that she held their attention. Well, I guess hello, if captain Jackson hasn’t informed you yet, we are going to be working together. You have stumbled onto a very serious national case. I can’t say too much more, captain Jackson, I will need you and three people you trust implicitly, and let’s meet in your office if that is okay?

The captain nodded and barked out three names including Cash and Nasser. They moved towards the office. There weren’t too many chairs, but all found a seat. Joss set up her iPad and another that looked like a super-powered Mac laptop. She hit many keys talking to herself, then cleared her throat. Joss seemed to look them over and asked for the names, socials, and addresses of each. Then after fifteen more minutes of background checks and double-checks, she accepted three out of four, You, your Balinko, get out, sorry.

Balinko got up and shoved the chair behind him, exited angrily. She paused long as if looking through each person’s soul. Nasser was moving back and forth in his seat, and Cash sat back and waited on the verge of being annoyed.

You were all cleared to work on this case. I am going to share confidential intel with you, as we work on this. You will see another agent with us as we go forward. He is on his way. I am going to share facts, not rumors, but this is complicated. Joss shared, she relaxed and sat with them.

Knock, knock, knock, I pushed the door open.

Hello captain Jackson, should I come in? I moved inside the room when I got the nod from Cash. I moved to fill in the last open seat, recently vacated by officer Balinko. Joss stared directly at me breathing a breath of frustration.

"Who are you? Captain Jackson, he can’t be here! Joss turned around and typed to open the database to search his name.

I am Q. Chase, sometimes I help as a consultant. Joss listened to his introduction, but she was completely underwhelmed by his slight frame, white tennis shoes, jeans, and a casual blue long sleeve dress shirt. She took note of his silver blond hair shaved short. His bad posture, and his unsure demeanor, made her think less of him. He looked straight back at her with those deep blue eyes, innocent and hopeful. Had she’d ever seen anyone with eyes so blue.

Her analytical machine of a mind was seeking to understand more about this almost nondescript copper-toned everyday man. He could have been from twenty countries and her background checks came up empty. Red flags were shooting off Beware of this question mark flags. Q. Chase was so regular, no background, why was he there wasting her valuable time?

She stared and he just looked back at her not smiling, but not frowning, just a nice person’s face. He was awaiting commands to leave, or stay, he didn’t know what would happen. Then a report shot back, a confidential file titled Q. Chase. Then her phone pulled her out of her deductive trance.

Joss picked up the phone, Yes sir, what? He has? So you just can’t tell me…..because I don’t have the clearance. Okay, yes I will, good day sir. The one-sided conversation was informative enough. Joss Leven would be including Mr. Q. Chase in the investigation.

CHAPTER 2

THE RED COIN

I hurried to answer my phone, it was Cash my contact from the Austin police. He said, Hey, we have a strange one, can you make it down here fast?

I think so, what’s going on? I tried not to seem too eager.

We have a body, it’s a young lady at Red Bud Isle, and we don’t have too much to go on. Cash quickly gave him a brief synopsis.

What else Cash? There has to be more to it for me to be called in. I replied knowing of captain Jackson’s hesitance to include me because at times I had unnerved her. I did that to a lot of people. Maybe, they can all see that I am an unstable man, and probably insane. I shouldn’t even have answered the phone for these calls, I am being irresponsible.

Cash Continued, We found a heavy red coin about a half dollar size and I think it is silver. The paint or coating over the coin is not a known substance to me, maybe paint. Then there is the insignia engraved on it, it’s just weird and right up your alley. Just get down here, I think the feds are getting involved.

I breathed a sigh of relief, then I dared to say out loud, Thank you, God. I knew that this was going to be a good one, maybe a serial murderer. This had to be connected to others like it, or the feds would have never been called in. I knew right away that I would be able to feed all the squawking mouths of those people living inside me. All the voices and the need they had to stretch their own identity was exhausting.

I knew that Cash heard my insensitive comment, but what did I care, they all think that I am strange anyways. Maybe they don’t, it was possible that they just saw me as a boring guy who seems to know things. I must not assume, either way, all that was important was the fact that I am not sitting there in my home.

I’ll see you soon, Cash. I pushed the end button and ran to get ready. I hurried out the door and grabbed my keys to my red Ford Explorer. It wasn’t my favorite vehicle, but I didn’t want to spark any questions about me showing up in the new Tesla model three. This has to be about the case, and not figuring me out. I remember what happened the last time someone got focused on me. Tragically, I accidentally let that dark, psychopathic Evan out of me. Evan was near impossible to bring back under control. His trail of bodies haunted me daily.

I had to move, I liked life in Austin, Texas, so no mistakes, I have to be perfect, keep control. I can do this. I prayed, Oh God, please help me. All this was playing on my mind as I pulled up to the aqua blue glass wall, climbing forty feet high. Those sandstone walls enclosing the glass wall somehow brought me peace,

I knew if I could just see that beautiful building, then I would be entering it. Which meant that perhaps this combusting pressure inside me would be able to be released. My implosion was not imminent, that was good news. I slid past the hustling cops going in all directions. I checked in at the first blockade of defense, the front desk. I let them know that I was there.

Why was I so nervous? I had been there twenty-three times before.

The red coin was on my mind, I had to see it, to touch it. The officer sent me through to the inner sanctum of crime-fighting of Austin, Texas. I walked past many desks and towards the detectives, eventually to the office of captain Julie Jackson. I knocked and saw the closest thing I had to a friend, detective Cash Love. He caught me in his peripheral vision and waved me in.

I took my seat and realized that captain Jackson was not leading the meeting. It had to be an FBI hijacking of the case. That was fine with me, I worked with them before, many times. This super attractive lady was looking at me. Why won’t she talk, she won’t stop staring at me. Yep, she heard my name and began typing to check me out. It is the same way every time I start these cases.

There is it a question, okay answer normal don’t be overconfident, be a normal human. Here I am, okay I am blocking out the other sixteen voices on mute. That won’t last, I sometimes work on the cases. I think she is still looking for a way to get me