Free Centurion: Mark's Gospel as a Thriller by Ryan Casey Waller

as that."
    "Not me," I say, chewing hard on my cheek.
    "Because you're different?" Maria shakes her head and wipes away more tears. "God! That's what they all say!"
    I take her by the shoulders and shake her as I speak. "I.
Am. Different."
    "Why is that?" she says, her voice frail and brittle. "What makes you so special? What is it that will keep you off that cross?"
    "Money. I have a lot of money."
    Maria's lips arc downward. "Money can't save you from the Kingdom's cruelty."
    "Maybe not," I say, taking her tanned face gently in my hands. "But it can build an army."
    Then I kiss her before she can stop me.
    I draw Maria into me, and she wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through my hair. I kiss her slowly, tasting the salt on her lips. She's only the third woman I've kissed, and my lips tremble with the nerves of naïveté. Maria, who's far more relaxed, opens her mouth wide and bites my bottom lip.
    We continue to kiss, exploring the wild landscapes of our faces and mouths for long enough to know we're in love. If our hands had felt designed for one another, this kiss proves the primordial pairing, sealing the fate of our union.
    She is mine and I am hers.
    For the first time since my parents were killed, I truly reconsider my decision to go to war. For real. Not as some fleeting thought.
    I hadn't anticipated Maria in my life. But who could? Everything about her is exquisitely novel and as such changes everything.
    When the time is right, we stop kissing and look at each other in the way only new lovers can. We're pristine creatures holding secret knowledge about the other. "What would you suggest I do, if not fight?" I ask her. "If not go to war? What choice do I have? Something must be done to free our people from these tyrants."
    "There's another way to freedom. The Teacher speaks of it often."
    "Does he support the American cause?"
    "Of course, but the Teacher wishes
all
people to be free."
    "All people can't be free. Freedom doesn't work that way."
    "You were right," Maria says.
    "About what?"
    "You
are
different. I know it." She moves her fingers gingerly across my chest. "You don't see it now...but you will. You have the eyes to see. It's all about the eyes—about how we choose to see the world."
    "See what?" I say, suddenly growing weary from the adventure of the day. The fatigue settles fast across my shoulders like the burden of a heavy yoke.
    "I'm not sure I fully understand it all myself, but I'm beginning to, and it's marvelous. It's just...it's all going to be OK."
    "That doesn't answer my question."
    "I'm sorry," Maria says, grinning. "That's the best I can do for now. I can't put it in words. But I will."
    "I need you to. I want to understand what you're talking about."
    "Then you'll have to ask the Teacher yourself." Maria jumps and points at something behind me. "There! I see Jude. They're coming now." She grabs hold of my face. "Now kiss me again."
    "Jude! The bank teller?"
    Maria laughs playfully and kisses my ear. "Have you met him?"
    "Uh..
.yeah!
I absolutely cannot—"
    Maria's lips are on me before I can finish my sentence. And then there's nothing in the world but her mouth kissing mine.

omeone calls Maria's name, and I turn to see a group of men marching merrily toward us. They're a motley crew of unmerited bravado. They come in all shapes and sizes and are horribly disheveled, even by poverty-induced Southern standards. The men are unshaven, and their clothing is old and wrinkled. One of them is barefoot. If I didn't know better, I'd take these men for a gang of vagabonds.
    Which might be exactly what they are.
    But the expression on their faces is anything but the gnarled look of the seriously poor. These men smile and laugh wildly as they walk, their faces brightly lit with mirth. Their happy voices roll out before them like trumpets announcing their arrival.
    Only one man in the group doesn't smile, and it's Jude.
    I avert my eyes and regard the others. I'm shocked to see