Free Chosen by Paula Bradley Page A

a junkie’s skin replete with blue flecks like blown veins. Ghost-like shapes roiled, the larger ones slamming into the smaller ones as if trying to obliterate them.
    A shadow materialized, superimposed over the multi-layered image as the dark around her began to thicken. She was paralyzed with fear, and could do nothing but stare at the apparition.
    Mariah had no idea when the music started. Distracted from the putrid colors and the malignant shadow, she concentrated, if for no other reason than to divert her attention from the vision.
    It was Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head , from the film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid . And someone ( something ) was humming it. Just a jaunty, absurd tune, so out of place in this hellish nightmare. Instead of lightening the mood, the song made it more sinister.
    Mariah shot up, wide awake, the remnants of the tune echoing in her head. When she realized she was hyperventilating, she forced herself to calm down which then relieved the constriction in her chest. Cold sweat made her shiver and she stank of fear.
    Crawling out of bed, she staggered into the bathroom. Without turning on the light, she splashed cold water on her face. It seemed to do the trick; her autonomic nervous system settled everything down.
    Back in bed, she prayed she would never experience anything so abhorrent again.
#
    Weeks slipped by with no terrifying or planetoid dreams and no Findings . Mariah was not fooled by this lull; she knew that Joseph Armstrong was not her last kidnapped child. There were flyers in her mailbox with pictures of missing children (she even saw another newscast on television) but the anticipated reactions never occurred.
    Her thoughts kept jumping between the supernatural happenings in her life: the two dreams on Planet X; the two Findings ; the two Healings of her body; and the Visitation . Everything had begun after the Visitation . Fear simmered just below the surface as she fought to tamp it down.
    She purposely did not include the “Dark Dream” as she now thought of it. She was sure it was only a one-time occurrence.

Chapter 14
    Tuesday evening, August 12. Seven o’clock. Television program interrupted. Kevin O’Reilly, fourteen years old, never made it home from his part-time job. Abducted in Ohio. A twenty thousand dollar reward for information leading to the whereabouts of the boy and the conviction of the kidnapper.
    It felt like Gregory Hines was tap dancing in her chest.
    Mariah stared at the photo of Kevin on the screen. He had a big, toothy grin with shoulder-length, dish-water blond hair fluttering in the breeze. Blue eyes squinted into the sun as he proudly hoisted a large fish so the photographer could record his catch for posterity.
    She forced herself to take deep, even breaths. While her rapid heartbeats decelerated, her breath was still irregular, like she had run up a flight of stairs. She reached for the phone and called Michael.
    He was out of town.
    Abigail told her he was at a ministers’ conference in New Mexico. Can I do something for you, dear ? Mariah began to panic then forced herself to relax. What to do ... what to do...
    And then she remembered. Michael had told Peter Martin about the Findings just in case she needed a backup. At this moment, she was grateful for his foresight. Furthermore, Peter Martin was an ordained minister. Hopefully one cleric will be as good as another she thought, panic only slightly abated. She asked Abigail for Peter’s home phone number then dialed it. He answered on the third ring.
    “Peter this is Mariah Carpenter. I’m sorry to disturb you but Michael’s out of town and I’m heading into another Finding .”
    Startled, Peter’s hand tightened on the receiver. It’s a good thing she identified herself; I never would’ve known it was her. She sounds like a man . Without hesitation, he agreed to meet her at the church.
    Mariah’s next call was to Frannie’s cell phone. After four rings, she heard the voice