Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy

Visit Lorilyn
Roberts’ website at
http://LorilynRoberts.com

Copyright ©2014 Lorilyn Roberts

Smashwords
Edition

Cover design by
Lisa Hainline

Edited by
Katherine Harms and Lisa Lickel

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval
system—except for brief quotations for the purpose of review,
without written permission from the publisher.

Taken from the
Complete Jewish Bible by David H. Stern. Copyright
© 1998. All rights reserved. Used by
permission of Messianic Jewish Publishers, 6120 Day Long Lane,
Clarksville, MD 21029. www.messianicjewish.net.

ISBN:
9781310701665

F
or names of persons
depicted in this novel, similarity to any actual persons, whether
living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

To my Jewish ancestors

and

Jews who are still searching for the
Messiah

Special thanks to the
following beta readers for making
The King
better than it would have been without their
insightful suggestions:

Deborah Dunson, Sally Ann Bruce, Kendra
Stamy, Gregg Edwards, Hannah Bombardier, Lilly Maytree, and Rachel
Liankatawa, and Felicia Mires.

*~*~*~*

After a series of
devastating events, a gifted, seventeen-year-old Israeli boy,
Daniel Sperling, becomes the focus of a wager between good and
evil. Marked by one, he travels to first century Israel and meets a
doctor who becomes his mentor. When he unwittingly makes a pact
with the devil and the girl he loves becomes betrothed to another,
his life takes a different course—until his eyes are opened.
Trapped in the seventh dimension, how far will God go to save
him?

*~*~*~*

“A spiritual kingdom lies all about us,
enclosing us, embracing us, altogether within reach of our inner
selves, waiting for us to recognize it. God Himself is here waiting
our response to His Presence. This eternal world will come alive to
us the moment we begin to reckon upon its reality.” – A. W. Tozer,
The Pursuit of God.

Contents

Chapter 1
Death

Chapter 2
The Gift

Chapter 3
Dinner

Chapter 4
Conflagration

Chapter 5
Suffering

Chapter 6
Time Warp

Chapter 7
Whip of Rome

Chapter 8
The Living Dead

Chapter 9
Unspoken Gifts

Chapter
10
Discovery

Chapter
11
Opportunity

Chapter
12
The
Beggar

Chapter
13
Randomness

Chapter
14
Secrets

Chapter
15
Attack

Chapter
16
Announcement

Chapter
17
House
Guest

Chapter
18
Ventriloquist

Chapter
19
Conversations

Chapter
20
World of Shale
Snyder

Chapter
21
Confrontation

Chapter
22
Missing

Chapter
23
Compromise

Chapter
24
Differences

Chapter
25
Betrothal

Chapter
26
The
Healing

Chapter
27
Night

Chapter
28
Surprise
Meeting

Chapter
29
Wanderings

Chapter
30
Decapolis

Chapter
31
Complications

Chapter
32
Caesarea

Chapter
33
Chariot
Racing

Chapter
34
Training

Chapter
35
The
Demon

Chapter
36
First
Race

Chapter
37
Revenge

Chapter
38
Reckoning

Chapter
39
The
Dream

Chapter
40
Final
Race

Chapter
41
Jerusalem

“Please, God,
don’t let him die!” I cried.

General Goren’s
face turned blue as the medic and nurse rushed into the
room.

The nurse
barked orders. “Start chest compressions. One, two, three, four—”
seconds passed.

“No pulse,” the
medic said.

After applying
gel, the nurse placed the defibrillator pads on his bare
chest.

“All clear,”
she yelled.

We stepped back and waited.

The heart monitor remained flat.

“Again,” the
medic said.

On the second
attempt, General Goren’s eyes fluttered open.

A faint hope
stirred in the room.

The death cat
stood in the doorway. The nursing home mascot had never been
wrong—maybe just this once. I wanted to yell at the cat to go
away.

“Daniel,” a voice said faintly.

I leaned over
and squeezed the General’s hand. “Yes, I am here.”

His eyes met
mine. I drew nearer, avoiding the wires leading to the equipment.
His breathing was labored. I was thankful the nurse and medic
didn’t insist I leave.

“There is
something I need to tell you,” he said faintly.

I shook my head. “No, save your energy. You don’t
need to tell me now.”

“I must,” he pleaded. “You must know.”

I glanced at
the medic and nurse. He was in no condition to talk.
“Know—what?”

He squeezed my hand reassuringly. “You saved my life
at Synagogue Hall.”

“What?” The man
must be hallucinating.

The General
continued. “May, 1948—hospital in Jewish Quarter.”

“No. It was
someone else. I’m Daniel Sperling, son of Aviv, a volunteer at the
Beth Hillel Nursing Home. I’m seventeen years old.”

“Let him talk,”
said the medic. He lowered his voice, “In case he dies.”

“Don’t say that,” I whispered.

The cat stood
in the doorway—watching.

General Goren
pulled me closer. “No, Son. It was you. They carried me in on a
stretcher. I had a collapsed lung. The Arabs had burned everything
but the hospital. The flames—cries of children—horrible. Mothers
and fathers—all gone. The children—” he stopped, unable to
continue.

I reassured him. “You did the best you could.
Everyone did.”

General Goren
flinched. “Dr. Laufer and Dr. Riss had a flashlight. Nurse Tzviah
tried—” his voiced cracked again. “I told them not to waste any
more time on me, to help the others.”

I’d never heard
this story. The war hero rarely talked about those weeks in
Jerusalem. Despite his successes many years later, he apparently
never forgot that night.

“The
reinforcements didn’t arrive in time. We held out as long as we
could.”

“Forgive yourself.”

Tears welled up and he coughed. His eyes stared and
the medic shocked him again.

“We have a
heartbeat, a faint one,” the nurse said.

Should I leave
so he could save his strength or stay and let him
finish?

General Goren
said, “I must tell you this before I’m gone.”

“I’m listening.”

The room became
quiet. The only sound was his weak, raspy voice.

“You had a scar
on your forehead. You walked over and touched me. The pain left. I
cried out to the nurse—I wanted to know who you were—but you were
gone.”

My hero had mistaken me for someone else.

“Thank you for
saving my life,” the General said. “I didn’t tell you before
because I didn’t think you would believe me.”

I squeezed his hand.

“God has great
plans for you. You’re an angel.” The old man stopped
breathing.

“He’s gone,” said the medic.

We checked the monitor. The war hero who had
survived so many battles was no longer with us.

I ran out the
door, tripping over the cat. I stopped and turned to face the poor
creature. “Sorry,” I muttered.

His gray eyes
stared into space, but the cat’s purrs reached my ears. I reached
down and picked him up. Stroking his head gently, I leaned over and
kissed him. Couldn’t the blind animal have been wrong just this
once?

Three Weeks Later

I trudged up
Mount Zion to the Old City reciting my prepared speech. “Dear
Mother, I’m not going back to the Family and Youth Treatment
Center. Crazy people don’t know they are crazy. Patients who punch
walls and claim to see monsters in the dark will make me crazy if I
stay, if that’s what you want—” no, that sounded
disrespectful.

I approached
the Prayer Plaza. An Orthodox Jew wearing a fur hat sat in front of
the Western Wall. He, along with others deep in prayer, faced the
most sacred wall in the world—the only remnant from the temple
still standing.

I passed a
bookstore selling Jewish T shirts, jewelry, and photos of
Mount Zion. The closer I came to home, the more I hurried.
Familiarity put me at ease, though tensions ran high in the
streets.

The Family and
Youth Treatment Center forbade TVs. Too much bad news, they said.
When was there not bad news? I would not go back—my day pass would
be permanent, even if I had to run away.

The sign at the
gate, Jewish Quarter Street, greeted me. I walked faster,
anticipating the surprise on the faces of my mother and sister. Of
course, I would have to explain. I’d worry about that
later.

I heard the approach of running feet behind me on
the stone walkway. Someone called my name, “Daniel, wait.”