Zephon waited on the floor of the pool’s deep end and watched the bubbles rise as Lucas jumped in.

The setting sun was still striking the water’s surface through the hotel window, its last rays of golden light now reflected in thousands of those tiny bubbles. It was like a mini fireworks show that God had undoubtedly designed just for him to see.

Zephon always appreciated the beauty of this physical (albeit cursed) world whenever he saw it, because it made him praise the Creator—and the Creator always seemed to find ways to slip him these good gifts on his assignments.

Eleven-year-old Lucas still had to clench his eyes and plug his nose when he swam, but that had never stopped him from trying to touch the bottom of the pool’s deepest section. He’d managed to do it a few times already today. None of his friends could do it yet. Lucas was courageous like that.

This time, however, would be different. Just a few inches before his fingers scraped the bottom of the pool, Lucas got the cramp in his calf. Zephon had been briefed that this would happen, but it surprised him a bit to see Lucas’ body suddenly jolt, almost like it had been struck with electricity. What would have been a scream escaped from the boy’s mouth in another rush of bubbles.

For a moment, Lucas floated there near the bottom, a powerful grimace scrunching his face, and then a look of fear as he likely realized his predicament. Then determination, as he tried in vain to fight through the pain and swim to the surface. He could only rise inches at a time.

Zephon knew Lucas wasn’t going to make it. He knew how sad Lucas’ friends and family would be if they found the boy floating dead in the pool. He’d seen countless generations of humans come and go—communal joy at their arrivals and often sorrow at their departures. And oh, the unspeakable sorrow of those who had died without hope!

But to Zephon, who had watched an untold number of God’s children die through the millennia, there was no sorrow. Instead, he shared the Creator’s emotions—how could he not?—that these deaths, even of this child, were precious. This death unfolding before him in the deep end of this Minnesota pool was precious, because Lucas was precious. A child of God, now just seconds away from meeting King Jesus!

The moment Lucas’s conscious mind lost control of his body and his brain triggered his lungs to inhale, Zephon prepared himself. In a matter of seconds, when the child’s soul departed to be present with the Lord, Zephon entered the shell and—as if nothing had happened—swam Lucas’ body to the surface.

With lungs filled with water, he could neither inhale nor exhale, so Zephon was glad to see as he scanned the area with Lucas’ eyes that no one had noticed his exceptionally long stay underwater or his breathless exit from the pool.

There was no lifeguard on duty in this hotel pool, which, though it resulted in Lucas’ death, also afforded Zephon the opportunity for this mission. Having watched Lucas off-an-on these past few years, Zephon knew his personality—and he knew that he’d be honored for God to use his body this way.

Zephon padded Lucas’s way to the exit, his shorts still dripping with water, when one of his friends called after him. “Hey, Lucas! Where you going? My mom said we can stay till they close.”

Unable to speak, he pointed out the door and gave a noncommittal wave to the friends he was leaving behind. Zephon couldn’t predict the future, but he hoped it was a friendly enough goodbye to these buddies. They’d likely remember that final moment for years after.

Lucas walked down the hall, leaving wet little footprints on the gold-burgundy carpet of the Holiday Inn as he went. He scanned the lobby and made his way to the door. The worker at the front desk held a phone to her ear—the curly cord slightly tangled in her perm—but shouted after him, “Hey, Kid! It’s like 40 degrees out! Wear a jacket!”

Zephon didn’t slow but took Lucas’ wet, half-naked body right out through the double doors. The sun had just escaped the horizon as he pulled Lucas’ bike from the rack and jumped on. Time was now of the essence.

He could feel neither the cold of the night nor the metal teeth of the pedal on Lucas’ bare feet as he pedaled hard, westward down Division. Zephon knew he had about 6 miles to go, but also knew how conspicuous he was, a shirtless kid riding down a busy road at dusk. The temperatures were going to drop even further now that the sun had set. His skin was probably already turning blue. He had to make this trip quickly, and he had to do so without being too easily seen.

Where Division turned into the highway, Zephon avoided the yellow headlights by riding Lucas’ bike into the culvert beside the road. It was harder going, but he was no longer just using the muscles of an eleven-year-old child to bike this far—he had angelic strength too. When he reached a log, he dismounted, threw the bike over, climbed back on and continued his relentless journey.

Halfway down the highway to his destination, Zephon paused. This is where he’d mapped it out earlier in his mind. Across the highway and through the trees about one mile was the rural road. He had to get there and fast, if he had any hope of saving the boys.

He waited in the culvert for a massive semi to pass, and then, when all was clear, the blue-skinned boy with sliced up feet pedaled speedily across the highway, slung the bike upon his back, and jogged through the black woods.

By now, half an hour had passed. Even with Zephon’s strength, he could only do so much in Lucas’ body. But finally, he saw the road. He threw the bike onto the gravel and again began to pedal.

Within minutes, he saw them. Three young men about his own age were riding in the distance, illuminated by the orange-tinged streetlights that ended a quarter-mile down the road. They wore more clothes than Lucas, but probably not as many layers as their mothers wanted. One wore only a red hockey jersey.

As Lucas pedaled hard to meet them, he finally noticed the car. Its lights were off, but there it sat facing the road and idling, as if expecting the boys to arrive. When the boys were about 30 feet from the car, Lucas himself passed the front of the vehicle. Immediately, the lights on the car turned on, catching Lucas’ body in the lights. He feigned a startled look, slammed his brakes, and dismounted from the bike.

The three boys continued their approach, unaware of the danger that lurked.

From the driver’s side of the car jumped a man of about 30 holding a gun. Lucas would never have been able to see him, but Zephon saw it all. The boys reached the lights right at the moment they saw him too.

“Get off those bikes!” the man screamed. The boys obeyed.

“Throw them in the ditch!” They boys did.

The man moved into the light and grabbed Lucas by the arm with a gloved hand, the gun still pointed at the three boys. “Now run away or I’m going shoot you, you hear?” The boys stood in fear. “I mean it! Get out of here, or I’m gonna shoot you!”

With a glance at Lucas, who actually smiled at them and nodded, the three boys sprinted down the road.

Zephon watched them run, knowing through the promise of the Creator what misery his mission had just spared them and their families, and again he smiled.

The man roughly pulled Lucas away from his bike and tossed it into the bushes off the road. He was too pent up on adrenaline to notice the pallor of the boy’s flesh. He dragged Lucas to the car, handcuffed him, and roughly shoved him into the back seat.

Zephon had been tasked to keep this man busy until the boys had enough time to escape to their homes, and so he complied without complaint. He feigned a struggle against the handcuffs to assure the man that he was alive and fearful.

As they drove, the man kept talking to himself. Zephon wanted to answer him. He wanted to give him opportunity to stop what he was about to do, but he couldn’t. The water in his lungs and the commands of his Creator prevented him. So he simply moved and struggled and kept the man at ease.

About 45 minutes later, the man pulled the car over to the side of the road. When he turned off the headlights, everything went black. They were seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

Zephon could see, though. He could see the woods where the man likely intended to take the boy. He could see the gravel pit where the Creator had said Lucas’ body would be disposed. He could see it all through the car window, and he was so very glad that the three boys had fled and that none of them would endure what was about to take place.

The man exited the front seat, and that was the moment that Zephon decided to leave. He exited Lucas’ body and remained long enough to watch the exasperation on the man’s face when he pulled from the backseat Lucas’ body—stiff, cold, blue, dead.

He did not remain to watch what happened next.

©2026 E.T.

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Check Out More from This Series:

• Before I Wake Series Introduction
• Before I Wake, 01: Simon
• Before I Wake, 02: Ahmed
• Before I Wake, 03: Jakob
• Before I Wake, 04: Christine
• Before I Wake, 05: Lucas