Page 32 of Canyon of Deceit

THIRTY-ONE

BLANE

I lay in excruciating pain that kept me awake and thinking.

My ruminating resembled racing mustangs, and the infection in my arm had spread.

I touched the blood-red and swollen bandage, where the stitches had popped, and heat radiated through to my fingertips.

Yep, my arm needed medical treatment. Oh, yeah, today was my birthday.

I might not make it through the first day of my thirty-fourth year with both arms. .. or my life.

My thoughts dwelled on scenarios of what might be happening where I had no control. I’d given Therese a tutorial to help her negotiate with Chandler and his sidekick. I’d always believed good overcame evil. With that animal, I doubted my convictions.

The fever caused my teeth to chatter. I stoked the fire and stared into the low flames.

Wendy’s face came into view... I sat on the beach at night with a crackling fire and Wendy by my side.

The gorgeous, dark-haired beauty had become a challenge to me.

I proclaimed my love and begged we give ourselves to each other.

If she loved me, she’d show her feelings.

She said God reserved sex for marriage. And the conversation came up repeatedly.

A lifelong commitment never occurred to me, so I lied and promised her whatever she wanted to hear at the time. What a shallow and immature kid. No surprise I despised myself now.

To her credit, she never broke her resolve. Why she put up with me was a mystery. Maybe she saw something in me worth holding on to. What did she see worth dying for?

Therese had pointed out that Wendy made the decision to drive my truck. But I handed her my keys with final words that would send me straight to hell. Since then, I blamed God and myself, mostly myself. A bit ironic to blame someone I didn’t believe in. Or did I?

I wanted a perfect deity to be in control, but I sure didn’t measure up to a good man.

I’d seen so much violence from those who wore greed and selfishness like scout badges.

I’d fallen over that cliff too, hit the rocks of shame and self-loathing.

The accusing demon chased me, always nipping at my heels.

I love and forgive you, Blane. Forgive yourself.

I shivered, and the hairs on my neck tingled. The voice again, the One who had spoken to me moments before. Clear. Audible. Real. Searing heat radiated from my head. Fever. Delirium. No voices. Probably dying.

Forgive yourself, Blane.

I bolted and grabbed my broken arm, throbbing with the quick move. “Who are you?” I whispered.

But the One who’d spoken my name wasn’t a mystery.

The voice was the One I refused to accept as sovereign.

Had God shown up to walk with me into the hereafter, one with more misery than I’d ever known?

My grandmother had urged me to turn my life over to Jesus.

Instead my spiritual life flattened at zero.

Sharp pain sent lightning through my body.

If I recognized God’s voice, then heaven and hell had to be real places.

Maybe my disbelief in God stemmed more from my anger at why this world was so prone to blackness, and why He did nothing about it.

He created this mess and allowed good people to suffer. I groaned with the anger.

My body protested each breath, and I questioned surviving until morning. My fever had spiked, and chills shuddered through me. Guess God would escort me to Satan’s doors. I deserved it.

I studied the stars, picking out the constellations. Normally I’d sense immense isolation and sadness in staring at the vastness above me. Odd, I didn’t feel alone. I must surely be dying.

My thoughts turned to Therese... Her honey-blonde hair and blue-green eyes, the oval face of an angel.

A woman of strong faith and a friend of humility.

Even with Wendy I hadn’t thought of having a lasting relationship.

And here I was, dying under the stars with a ton of regret and wishing I had a huge do-over.

A life with Therese, building a home, having kids, growing older with gray hair, wisdom lines, and memories. Not happening but what a dream.

She would tell me to put the past where it belonged if only for a couple of hours until I drew my last breath. I never imagined I’d reach out for salvation, but the pull—no, desperate need—had tugged at me since I’d said yes to finding Alina.

Here I am, God. I forgive myself for Wendy’s death. While I’m at it, please forgive me for blaming You. I’ve got a wagonload of sins, so I’m confessing and believing You are here. I have no idea if I’ll live one more hour or day or more, but I’m Yours. Thank You for Jesus...

—

The sound of muffled voices roused me from a world where pain burned like a furnace in my body. In the darkness I saw no one. Had I died? If so, how was I supposed to handle life from now on? Should I feel anything? Were the voices demons or angels?

“Blane,” a voice said. A man, I think.

I struggled to respond, but verbal and physical paralysis seized me. My body clung to the ground as though invisible strength held me tightly.

“Get his vitals. Start an IV,” the voice said.

I must be alive. Someone poked and prodded. I moaned.

“Blane, if you can hear me, I’m Dave with the FBI rescue team. We saw your signal for help.”

I attempted to raise my hand and wiggle a finger.

“Good. You can hear me. Looks like you’ve broken your arm. I’m assuming Therese Palmer set it. We haven’t heard from or seen her. Chandler’s out there somewhere with Jurg Falin and Alina Ivanov. We—”

“Temp 104. BP 160/120,” another man said.

“Call the park ranger at the Dog Canyon Station. We need a helo pickup in the morning to get our guy to the hospital. The ranger there said a helo could land in a canyon about three hours from here. I have the location coordinates. We’ll call at daybreak once we’re on our way,” Dave said.

“Blane, sure wish you were able to talk. We’ve got an IV sending meds that will make you feel better and start the healing process.

Help you sleep too. Hang in there, buddy. You’re gonna be okay.”

Someone covered me with a blanket while warmth flowed through my body. Had he said Jurg Falin was with Chandler?

“I’m calling Major Montoya,” Dave said. “He wanted to be notified as soon as we found you.”

I wanted to thank him and ask him to give Sergio a message. To tell him I was fine, and God and I were in good shape. Guess I’d tell him later. God had spared me, but for what purpose or why?

“Therese.” Her name came out in a hush.

A hand rested on my arm. “We’ll find her,” Dave said. “And the little Ivanov girl. Which way did Therese go?”

“To... find... you. Alina.”

“The meetup location.”

I tried to nod, humiliated that I was helpless to those who had the manpower and weaponry to keep Therese safe. In my own pitiful, fever-infested state, I confessed my growing feelings. She’d be thrilled I’d found God. Even if facing death had shaken my senses. And the voice.

“Major Montoya, this is FBI Agent Dave Tanner. We found Blane Gardner shortly after 1:00 a.m. He’s alone.

Dehydrated. Concussion. Broken arm with infection.

Ms. Palmer set it, but she’s not here. Transporting him in the morning by helo to Covenant Health Hospital in Hobbs.

” Silence. “Part of the team will head out then to pick up her trail. No sign of Chandler.” Silence again.

“Yes, sir. Be glad to.” Dave placed his satellite phone to my ear.

“Blane, this is Sergio. You scared us, bro, and I’ll give you a butt chewin’ real soon.

The FBI team have orders to find Therese and Alina.

And to arrest Chandler, Falin, and whoever else might be with them.

I’ve learned more info about Russian involvement in locating Edik Baranov and the details leading up to the murder of Daria Ivanov plus the kidnapping.

Will fill you in later. Right now, let these good men take care of you. I’m catching the next flight to Hobbs.”

“Th... anks.” What info had Sergio uncovered?

I hated not having the latest intel. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed the pain to subside.

Questions pelted me with no answers. Nothing new.

I shoved aside the old habit of control and asked God to keep Therese, Alina, and the rescue team safe.

What a switch. Anxiety clung to me like wet dirt, but I grasped the reality that I wasn’t alone.

So new to this faith thing. Who’d ever imagine Blane Gardner would become a Christian?

Sleep called my name, and I despised the way my body refused to work. Therese’s welfare chained me. Please keep her safe. Chandler never left a vendetta alone, and neither did he let someone assume power.

“At the crack of sunrise, we’re going to lift you up and carry you down this trail. I won’t lie to you,” Dave said. “This won’t be easy and it’s gonna hurt.”