Fled for Refuge: Refuge, #1

By Kristina Hall

Tyranny. Betrayal. Risk.

Tony Dorence works security for a little country church mostly untouched by America's downward spiral. Untouched, that is, until a car smashes through First Baptist's front doors and the driver threatens the congregation. Though Tony thwarts the driver's intentions, this seemingly random event sets off a chain reaction that endangers his sister, Merri, and everyone involved with First Baptist.

Merri Dorence, though not a believer, supports much of what First Baptist stands for. As Tony's world is shaken, she too is dragged into the turmoil.

As everything falls apart around them, will Tony and Merri crumble beneath the pressure or flee to the only One Who can provide them refuge?

 

~ A dystopian/suspense women's Christian fiction novel ~

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristina Hall
• Release date: Jan 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201666897

Kristina Hall

Kristina Hall is a sinner saved by grace who seeks to glorify God with her words. She is a homeschool graduate and holds a degree in accounting. When she's not writing, she enjoys reading, arm wrestling, lifting weights, and playing the violin.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Rowan, New York

A few years in the future

A black sedan slammed through First Baptist’s front doors and wrapped around the concrete pole supporting the ceiling.

Metal squealed. Wood squeaked. The sermon carrying through the entryway speakers cut off, and the door on the right teetered from its hinges and crashed to the ground.

What?

Tony Dorence shoved away from the far corner of the entryway, pulse hammering at the base of his neck. Stupid driver, drunk on a Sunday morning. Couldn’t even keep it on the road.

And the last thing First Baptist needed was an influx of officers from the Federal Centralized Police Force.

He strode to the driver’s door. Of course the Honda would have windows tinted dark enough to conceal the idiot’s face.

But when he got that door open—

A sledgehammer crashed into his chest, and he slammed to the ground. Air rushed from his lungs. Another force punched his right arm. Two shots echoed around him, and black spots invaded the entryway.

Hit. He’d been hit.

He had to get up. Had to get to his gun. Had to—

The driver’s door swept open.

A man dressed in black stepped out, picked his way over plastic and splintered wood. Headed for the sanctuary doors, his back to Tony. And he gripped a handgun. More. I need more.

No.

This wasn’t going down. Not on his watch.

Tony shoved to his feet and reached for his Colt .45. Fire ignited in his upper right arm, licked into his shoulder and down to his fingers. No way could he get it cocked with his arm like that.

And the guy was way too close to the sanctuary doors.

He fumbled his gun from his holster with his left hand, lunged, and slammed it over the man’s head.

The guy fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, gun still in his hand.

Tony kicked it out of his reach, then shoved his own gun into his holster. Warmth trickled down his right arm. He fought for a sip of air, and black wavered at the edges of his vision.

No. He couldn’t pass out. Not before he restrained this guy.

He dropped to his knees beside the man, secured his wrists and ankles with zip ties as best as he could with his left hand, and patted him down. No other weapons.

Steam hissed from beneath the car’s crumpled hood.

The car. Were there other addicts in it?

He struggled to his feet, pulled his gun, and jerked open the back door. A stupid move given his .45 was no more use to him than a club.

Yet the car stood empty of all but a few fast food bags and syringes.

He gasped a couple of hard breaths, and the pain in his chest morphed into a deep, pulsing ache.

Hit. He’d been hit. If not for his vest ...

The entryway took a slow spin.

Not now. Not yet.

He walked close to the sanctuary doors. Muted voices seeped out, some heavy with panic. Everything’s under control. I need a couple of guys out here while I check the perimeter.

Shaking started in his gut and spread through his arms and legs.

Using the toe of his dress shoe, he shoved the man out of the way of the sanctuary doors.

Craig Lansky, First Baptist’s preacher, hurried out, followed by Wes, the older of the two deacons.

Wes closed the door behind them, and both men stilled in front of the doors, eyes wide.

The color washed from Craig’s face, and his jaw tightened. You’re hit.

Yeah, and blood soaked a good portion of his suit coat sleeve. I’ll deal with it later. You got your 9 mil?

Craig gave a short nod.

Tony extended his gun to Craig. Cock that for me. He took a slow breath and gritted his teeth. He’d have a bruise the size of his fist on his sternum come morning.

Craig cocked the gun and handed it back to him. What happened?

Tony tipped his head to the man restrained on the ground. He drove his car through the doors, fired a couple of shots at me. While I was down, he headed for the doors. Think he’s some kind of addict.

If he’d gotten to those doors ...

He rounded the car. Stay here. I’ll check outside.

Tony.

He stilled at the edge of the doorway and turned. The entryway spun. Yeah?

Craig ran his hand through his brown hair. One of the visitors called the police. They’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.

The last thing they needed were government cops swarming the church.

All right. I’ll check fast and get back in here. We’ll talk.

Glancing right and left, he stepped into the all-too-peaceful spring day. No traffic whizzed by on the two-lane country road twenty feet from the church’s decimated doors. He rounded the corner. No black Hondas with tinted windows lurked in the parking lot among the ten cars belonging to the churchgoers.

The only suspicious car was a crumpled mess in the church entryway.

He should’ve seen that coming a mile away. His carelessness had almost gotten people killed.

He tightened his grip on his gun, and completed his circuit of the small church. Nothing differentiated it from any other old country church save for what Craig preached from the pulpit. Truth. A rarity when people had lie after lie shoved down their throats and clamored for more.

He stopped out of sight of the church doors. No use getting more lead thrown his way. I’m coming back in.

C’mon. Craig’s reply came clear and steady.

Tony strode into the entryway and slumped against the wall. Pain throbbed through his arm. The addict still lay motionless on the ground.

Craig smoothed his hand down the front of his suit coat. You must’ve hit him pretty hard.

He fumbled to engage his gun’s safety. No easy thumbing it on as he did with his right hand. Everything’s clear outside.

Craig pulled open the right sanctuary door, and Wes strode into the sanctuary. I’ll get Merri to bring the first aid kit out if you think it’s safe for her.

Tony nodded. As safe as it ever is.

Her brother didn’t need more trouble. No, neither of them did.

Yet he’d been shot. Shot protecting this congregation.

Trembling fought for control as Merri Dorence let the sanctuary door fall shut behind her. No, it’d gained control minutes ago thanks to that crash, the two gunshots, and the panic that had swept through the small congregation.

Just another reason why she shouldn’t have come to church with Tony.

He slumped against the left wall of the entryway, hand pressed to his upper right arm. Blood seeped through his fingers.

Tony. She crossed to him, stepping around pieces of plastic and wood. Never mind the black Honda twisted around the pole in the middle of the entryway and the guy sprawled a little to the right of the sanctuary doors.

Tension rippled through Tony’s jaw, yet he cracked a smile. No doubt to make her feel better. Not that the shaky expression could do anything for her.

She set the first aid kit on the little table beside him and removed packages of gauze and an elastic bandage. I heard two shots.

He winced. Other one hit my vest. The vest that now lay on the floor along with his suit coat and dress shirt.

If he hadn’t been wearing the vest ... Where? She gripped his left wrist and eased his hand away from the wound. No, wounds. The bullet had entered on one side of his bicep and exited on the other just below the sleeve of his white T-shirt.

Middle of my chest. His voice came low. I’ll have a decent bruise tomorrow.

He would’ve been killed. She squeezed her eyes shut. Tony.

I don’t think you’ll be able to see too well if you keep your eyes closed like that.

She forced them open and bandaged his arm as best as she could. That’ll have to do until you can get real medical attention.

Which would likely be in a couple of hours.

After the cops come, I’ll have you drive me to Rick’s.

Craig stepped out of the sanctuary and raked his hand through hair that stood on end from too much of the same treatment. I’ve told everyone to leave. I’ll walk them out. Make sure everything’s okay. He propped open the sanctuary doors. It’s better they aren’t around when the officers arrive.

Everyone. The congregation of twenty people. Twenty people who had answers when she had nothing but questions.

Family by family, they walked through the entryway, eyes roving from Tony to the man lying on the floor to the totaled Honda.

When the last person had left the building, Tony pushed away from the wall, right arm hanging at his side. Drying blood stained the rest of his arm, hand, and fingers. Merri, you’d better go too.

She couldn’t leave him like this. Besides, they’d come in her car, and she needed to drive him to Rick’s once the cops finished questioning him. I’ll be all right to stay.

Tony pressed his lips together. Don’t get in their way.

Distant sirens filtered through the destroyed doors.

Craig stepped inside and ran his hand through his hair yet again. When they question you, tell the truth. I don’t have anything to hide.

She tugged on the hem of the little white sweater that covered her arms and gave her sleeveless turquoise dress a little style. This couldn’t end well.

Craig crossed his arms. Let them come in here. Let them send in some agents to listen to my sermons. I say nothing that isn’t in the Bible. Nothing that I’d be ashamed of them hearing. They need to hear it just as much as anyone else.

Yeah, they do. Tony shoved his left hand into his pocket.

Maybe if more people had heard what Craig preached, Gram and Gramps would still be alive. She lowered her hands from the hem of the sweater. No, she wouldn’t go there. Not today.

Tony pulled his hand from his pocket. They can shut us down if that’s what they want. They can even arrest us for violating that stupid Religious Freedom Mandate. But none of that means we’ll stop meeting.

The Religious Freedom Mandate. An innocuous name for the law that forbade churches or any religious organization from preaching anything against the government narrative. A law that had been put into place after the huge false flag of coordinated mass shootings that’d left the public begging for even more government intervention.

But Tony couldn’t be arrested. He wouldn’t survive in a government prison.

Craig’s shoulders rose and fell. God’s with us. Always with us. And nothing, not even the government police, can take us from Him.

The sirens wailed closer.

No, God wasn’t with her. Maybe He was with Tony and Craig. Maybe not. And that was if He even existed. No one could know such a thing. Not even Tony.

She rounded to Tony’s left side and took his arm. You’re pale. Come in the sanctuary and sit down.

I’m okay. Going outside to wait for the cops. Craig, you stay in here. Make sure that guy doesn’t go anywhere.

She trailed Tony into the parking lot.

Five police cars zoomed into the lot, and the screaming sirens cut off. Car doors slammed. Ten uniformed men stormed toward them, rifles ready. Hands behind your heads.

She lifted her hands to her head. Beside her, Tony lifted only his left hand to his head.

We had an intruder—a drug addict wanting more drugs. He had a gun. Was headed for the sanctuary. Tony’s voice came calm but sure. I restrained him. He’s in the entryway with the pastor.

Seven of the officers strode toward the entrance. The other three stopped in front of her and Tony.

Then I’ve got questions for you. The one on the right, a big man with arms that bulged against his tan uniform, lowered his rifle.

The man’s gaze steadied on her. Kenton will take you into the sanctuary. If we have questions, we’ll find you.

The man on the left stepped away from the other officers. Come with me.

She had no choice but to do as he said. Craig’s church didn’t need the Federal Centralized Police Force’s attention focused on them.

The weakness hadn’t been this bad in a good six months. Mind if I sit down?

At least the guy had ushered him into the entryway to ask his questions. And at least the cops had removed the creep who’d crashed through the door.

Go ahead. The officer nodded to a chair a few feet away from the little table.

Legs shaking, Tony rounded the table and sank onto the chair. Glass or metal bit through his pants, and he let out a slow breath. This day couldn’t get much worse.

Unless the cop decided to make it so.

The man nodded to his partner and handed him his rifle Go see if they need help with the suspect.

The other officer turned and strode out the door.

I’ll be recording our conversation. The government cop drew a little device from his pocket and set it on the table. You won’t have any objections.

And what if he did?

Name?

Wasn’t the officer supposed to introduce the recording in some way, or was this new protocol since all police forces had been centralized a year ago? Anthony Dorence.

What’s your role here?

Security guard.

What’s a peaceful establishment like a church need with a security guard?

Tony motioned with his left hand to the car wrapped around the pole. Things like that.

The cop braced his hand on the weapon holstered at his hip. Tell me what happened.

I was listening to the sermon. Next thing I know, that car slams through the front doors and gets hung up on the pole. I assumed the driver had been drinking as we’ve had cars hit the building before.

He grasped his right wrist, and eased his hand up to rest on his leg. The fire in his arm rekindled, as did the throbbing in his chest. He needed to get home. Needed to lie down with an ice pack for an hour or two. Not that he’d have that option for a long while.

And?

He swallowed, his tongue a dry sponge in his mouth. Yeah, well, I went around to the driver’s door, and the man shot me. I fell back. He got out of the car and walked toward the sanctuary doors with his gun out. Said something about needing more. I assumed he was talking about drugs. I got up and hit him over the head.

The cop tapped his fingers against the gun holstered at his hip. Since this is a church and it’s Sunday morning, where’d your congregation go?

They were all in the sanctuary when it happened. The pastor didn’t see any need for them to stay around.

The officer cocked his head. Since when are you running this investigation? I’ll need their names. I’m sure you have a membership directory or something. Isn’t that how these places work?

Tony leaned back in the chair. We don’t keep those kinds of records. For good reason.

The cop snorted. And you don’t remember who was here?

The man pushed too hard. No one in the congregation needed to get mixed up in this. They didn’t see anything. No one was in the entryway but me when it happened. You’ve got your criminal.

The officer crossed his arms. Who’s the preacher at this place?

Craig Lansky. The cops must’ve taken him into the sanctuary.

Who’s the woman you were with? A group of cops exited the sanctuary and strode outside.

My sister.

The cop nodded. Her name?

Meredith Dorence.

All right, Dorence, we’ll be in contact if we need further information from you. Go into the sanctuary and tell Lansky to come out here.

That meant he had to stand up. He pushed to his feet, and the ground tipped.

The cop grabbed his left arm. I’ll radio for an ambulance. You need to get that arm looked at.

Tony pulled from the cop’s hold and blinked the blur from the entryway. He wouldn’t be going to the hospital. Not given the government healthcare card required for treatment. Don’t worry about it.

Looks like you’ve lost a fair amount of blood.

How had the man switched from suspicious to concerned so fast? He waved him off and walked toward the sanctuary doors. I’ll get it taken care of.

He stumbled into the sanctuary, and the floor tilted again. He braced his hand on the back of the last pew. Merri and Craig sat a couple of pews in front of him, a cop standing watch over them.

Craig, he wants to ask you a few questions. No doubt Craig would answer with more humility than he had.

Merri turned, brow furrowed.

Craig eased from the pew, his face pale. Thanks, man. Sit down, would you? You look like you’re about to fall over.

Tony dropped into the pew beside Merri and slumped against the hard back. Lord, don’t let the government come down on this place. Keep them from asking too many questions.

Merri brushed his left forearm. Hanging in there?

He worked up a smile. By a thread. What he needed were a repair job on this arm, an ice pack, and twenty-four hours of solid sleep. And food.

The cop designated as their babysitter stared at them, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down.

Merri pulled out the hymnal and flipped to the middle.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Pain buzzed through his chest with each beat of his heart. Thanks that I was wearing that vest, God.

Tony, wake up.

Footsteps thudded behind him. He forced his eyes open and turned to the angry protests of his chest and arm.

The officer who’d questioned him stood beside the pew, Craig a couple of steps in front of him. You all can go now. Like I said, we’ll be in contact if we need more information. He motioned to the other officer, and they strode out of the sanctuary.

Maybe they wouldn’t be in contact. Maybe this would disappear as quickly as it had happened.

Yeah, right. Like things ever worked out that way.

He pushed to his feet and clenched his teeth against a groan.

Craig’s face twisted. You’d better take care of that arm. You look rough.

They get the car out of the entryway?

Craig nodded.

Then let’s get some plywood over that mess. Can’t have a bunch of vandals or crazies driving Hondas getting in.

Craig tried for a smile and failed. I called Wes’s nephew. He’s bringing his construction crew out in an hour. He’ll be able to fix it. You two get out of here.

What kind of questions did the cop ask? Nothing good, no doubt.

Craig motioned to the door. I’ll stop by your all’s house tonight, and we’ll talk it over. Get out of here before you fall on the floor. Wouldn’t want you ruining this carpet. He scraped his dress shoe over faded blue carpet that had to be fifty years old. Then again, Amanda wouldn’t be unhappy if you gave her a reason to replace it.

Merri tapped his good arm. Listen to him for once. I don’t want to have to carry you all the way to the car. Yet she lifted his left arm and slung it over her shoulders.

He leaned into her, letting her support a good part of his weight. Given that she stood only a couple of inches below his six feet and weighed maybe twenty pounds less than he did, she could handle it.

Be careful. Craig’s voice came from behind him.

If only that would keep them safe.

I can’t believe you got shot. Not just once but twice.

Merri pulled out of the church parking lot and tugged her dress over her knees. Driving in a dress never looked anywhere close to ladylike. Not that Tony cared about manners. What brother did?

I believe it. It hurts. A lot.

She glanced over at him. He’d tipped his head against the headrest and closed his eyes, his arm cradled against his stomach.

She needed to get him to Rick.

Nausea swirled through her stomach. I don’t think this was a good Sunday for me to come to church. Or maybe it was. At least she was there to wrap up his arm and get him to a doctor.

You didn’t like the sermon?

She shrugged. He loved his church. She didn’t need to rag on it. I agree with a lot of what he says. I mean, how could I not? The government doesn’t have a right to go around killing whoever they deem unnecessary or allowing hospitals or clinics to act as hitmen.

Like they’d done to Gram and Gramps coming up on a year ago.

Nope, she wasn’t going there.

Because they’re created in the image of God, and God has given clear commandment that murder is wrong.

He brought God into everything. To him, God was as real as she was.

He sighed. I’m surprised something like this didn’t happen sooner, but I never thought it’d happen the way it did. Didn’t think a guy would drive a car through the doors.

She took her right hand from the wheel and brushed his arm. Please don’t blame yourself.

He sighed again. If he’d shot me in the neck or head, he’d have gotten into the sanctuary. He’d have killed people even if someone would’ve taken him out eventually.

A shudder ran straight up her spine. But he didn’t. He shot you in the vest. You’re always talking about how God is sovereign over everything. Maybe you should be thanking Him for protecting you instead of beating yourself up. You did your job. You took the guy out.

You’re using God against me?

She returned her right hand to the wheel. Whatever works. But really, you did your job. And you were hurt doing it. Give yourself a break. Yet this was only the beginning. I know you’re thinking those cops aren’t going to stay away after this.

If they found out what Craig’s preaching, they’ll report this to the government agents, and there will be an agent sitting in one of the pews next Sunday morning. Maybe even this Wednesday night.

And? A tremor shouldn’t catch the end of such an insignificant