The Priest's Graveyard by Ted Dekker Read Free Book Online

feel it stir.
    The thing of it was, I couldn’t really place where I was, or why I was there. I wasn’t even certain who I was.
    An ache throbbed down my right side as my heart pushed blood through my body. I could hear the sound of the pulse in my right
     ear. When I pried my eyes down to see what was causing the soreness, my eye sockets burned.
    My arm was in a white cast. I remembered then that I had been on the brink of death and was somehow saved.
    The room I was in was painted off-white, but the bottom third of the walls looked like they were covered in pink leather.
     A large moose head was mounted on the wall opposite me, glaring at me with glassy eyes. Two stuffed foxes watched me from
     either side. I didn’t feel like I had the strength to turn my head, but with a painful swivel of my eyes I could see that
     similar heads were mounted on the other walls.
    I was being watched by all these dead animals, as if I were the one in the zoo and they’d each paid for entrance to see the
     human on the bed.
    There were no windows that I could see. A dresser with a large mirror over it was painted with pink roses. So was a large
     armoire in the corner. The door leading out of the room was closed. It was painted white, too. However unique, the room’s
     pink-and-white decor looked strangely beautiful to me.
    Something clicked on my left and I listened. I thought I heard someone breathing. After a long pause, a door closed.
    “You’re awake?” His soft voice reached into me like a powerful narcotic, flooding me with relief. It was him. Although I couldn’t
     remember the details, I knew immediately that I was alive because of the man behind this warm voice.
    Then he walked into my field of vision and looked down at me wearing a gentle smile. His face came back to me—that carefully
     groomed face, that blond hair slicked back, that strong jawline, those soft brown eyes.
    He’d been dressed in a black suit when he’d first come to save me. Today he wore a pressed dress shirt open at the collar,
     and I could see a silver chain like a cord around his neck. His sleeves were folded back. A silver Rolex hugged a strong wrist.
    He was tan. He was beautiful. It was as if God himself had stepped into my room.
    “My name is Lamont,” he said.
    The name was familiar, like the scent of my mother’s perfume.
    “I’ve been telling you that for two weeks. Lamont Myers. Do you remember?”
    I opened my mouth to say I thought so, but nothing came out.
    He sat down on the side of the bed and brushed my cheek with his forefinger. “It’s okay, save your energy.” His eyes sparkled.
     “You’re back with us, that’s the important thing.”
    Had he said two weeks?
    Without thinking, I lifted a shaking hand and brought it to his hand on my cheek. He took my fingers into his warm palm and
     squeezed them.
    “How do you feel?” he asked.
    I cleared my throat, determined to speak. “Fine,” I croaked.
    His eyes darted to a bottle of water on the nightstand. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. You must be dying of thirst!” He
     spun the lid off, inserted a straw in the neck, and pressed the tube against my lips.
    I took a long sip, keeping my eyes on his the whole time. Maybe I was afraid he would vanish again. The cool water felt good
     in my throat.
    “Better?”
    “Yes,” I rasped, and I was. “Two weeks?”
    He set the bottle back on the nightstand. “You’ve been in a coma for two weeks, Renee. The doctors didn’t think you’d make
     it. I insisted that you stay here, where I could keep an eye on you after the surgery on your arm. They put up a fuss as you
     can imagine, but I had a private physician sign a release. You weren’t carrying any ID.”
    “You know my name?”
    “I do now. I hope you don’t mind. Mr. Kauffman was kind enough to fill me in on a few details.”
    The name gouged into my memory like a pitchfork. Cyrus . My eyes must have shown my shock.
    “Don’t worry, he won’t be bothering