Bridge to Haven by Francine Rivers Page A

his lungs burning for air, explosions going off to the right and left of him. He could hear screaming and knew he had to get to the wounded. He made it to the top and looked down into a valley of shadows and death—Americans, Koreans, and Chinese all tangled together. The air was filled with the stench of rotting flesh; the sky was black with circling carrion birds ready to feast. He fell to his knees, weeping, and heard dark laughter.
    A figure came out of the darkness, malevolent and mocking. He spread his wings, triumphant. I’m not done yet. This is just the beginning of what I will accomplish before the last day comes.
    Joshua stood. “You’ve already lost.”
    Ah, but then, so have you. You couldn’t save them all, could you? Only a measly few. This is my domain. I hold the power over life and death.
    “You’re a liar and a murderer. Get away from me!”
    The sneering voice came closer. I see you, Joshua. I see her, too.
    Joshua reached for his throat, but the creature laughed and disappeared.
    Joshua awoke, his heart pounding a war beat. No one stood beside his seat. No one was speaking to him. No incoming mortar shells blowing men to pieces. Just the screech of the bus brakes.
    He leaned back and stared out the window. He didn’t want to close his eyes again. He’d been on American soil for a month, but sleep still brought nightmares of Korea.
    Joshua breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. He cast his mind back, remembering. His muscles relaxed; his mind focused. You called and I answered, Lord.
    He felt warmth and stillness. And I call you again to lay down your burdens. I give peace, Joshua, not as the world gives, but a peace beyond all human comprehension. Abide in Me.
    The Greyhound bus pulled off the main road. Joshua saw Riverfront Park off to the left. His heart drummed with excitement as the bus crossed the bridge to Haven. Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, the wheels whispered against the steel and macadam.
    Joshua leaned forward as the Greyhound pulled to a stop on Main Street, across from the town square. Joy burst inside him when he saw Dad standing on the sidewalk, and then a sharp stab of disappointment. He didn’t see Abra.
    “Haven!” the driver called out as he opened the door and went quickly down the steps.
    Joshua rose, straightening his uniform jacket as he made his way off the bus. Dad embraced him firmly. “You’ll see Abra in a few minutes. Peter and Priscilla insisted we come for dinner.” Dad took theduffel bag from his hand and led the way to Mitzi’s roadster parked around the corner.
    Joshua grinned as he slid in and closed the door. “Either you haven’t been driving this baby or you just had it washed and polished.”
    Dad laughed as he turned the key. The engine roared to life. “I thought it was a good time to give her a spin.”
    A Welcome Home, Joshua banner was stretched along the white picket fence. He saw cars parked up and down the street. Dread filled him. “What is all this?”
    “I’m sorry. You know what’s waiting for you and you’ll survive it. I tried to tell them to give you a couple of days, but people love you, Son. They want to welcome you home.” The parking space in front of the house had been reserved for them.
    Friends poured out the front door onto the porch to cheer and clap. Joshua barely made it around the car before they swarmed through the gate, surrounding him, hugging him, slapping his back. Priscilla cried and waved others ahead of her. Joshua took in the familiar faces: Mitzi, the Martins, Bessie and Oliver Knox, the Lydicksons. Jack and the crew he’d worked with.
    “Give the man room, folks!” Peter shouted. “Let him get inside the house!”
    And then Joshua saw Abra. His heart leaped when she came through the front door and stood on the porch. She’d grown taller and filled out while he was away. Even with a girlish ponytail, she looked like a young woman and not a girl anymore. Seeing her coming down the steps, he pressed his way