Read Centurion: Mark's Gospel as a Thriller for Free Online

isn't a fortuitous thing. When the alarm sounds, he'll be within reaching distance of me. There's no way for me to slip out the door without him snatching hold of me.
    But I have no other option. I swallow hard and walk through the door.
    My shoulder brushes the guard's chest, and he says, "May the gods of our Kingdom protect you."
    The words have just left his mouth when my fist shatters his nose.
    Blood spews brilliantly from the guard's face, but I'm out the door before a drop of it stains the floor. And then I'm gone.
    As I tear away from the bank, the sensation of cartilage crunching beneath my hand sends a fresh round of adrenaline through my veins. It's the first time I've inflicted pain on my enemy. During my training I'd wondered whether I could actually do it. Was it in me to torment another human? Would I be capable of...killing? These questions haunted me. I had countless nightmares of traveling home only to discover I was born a coward.
    But now I'm baptized, with blood on my hands to prove it.
    A dry smile rolls across my face as my legs carry me to safety, or to wherever it is I'm headed.
I've joined the fight! I'm
not a coward. Quite the contrary, I'm a violent man. I feel it deep in my bones.
    I make a hard turn and slide around a dusty street corner, taking a moment to look behind me. Jude was wrong. Both guards have given chase. We're separated by less than a hundred yards. Either man could easily gun me down. I consider drawing my weapon and firing at them. The mantra "Kill or be killed" flashes brightly across my brain.
    I'm in a full sprint when my brain registers the howl of the bank's alarm. It screams an ear-deafening call to arms for any Kingdom centurion who hears it. This is when the gravity of what I've done sinks in, working to erase the rush of adrenaline. There's no way for me to escape Oxford. Even if I manage to kill both of these men, more will come for me. I've committed one of the most severe crimes—defiance of authority. If that isn't bad enough, if they arrest me, they'll discover my gun. For that offense I'll be assured the slowest and mostpainful of Kingdom deaths—death on a cross. Getting shot or hanged sounds like a vacation by comparison.
    These truths hit me like a cold bucket of water, and my legs fold beneath my body. As I tumble forward, concrete rips the skin off my outstretched hands before my chin collides with the ground and splits wide open.
    But the truth burns far worse than the gash on my chin. I've attacked a Kingdom guard...and I'll be executed.
    Searing pain fires from my chin into the back of my jaw. But there's no time to afford myself a moment of pity. I use my bloody hands to scramble back to my feet and keep running hard and fast, willing my body to find one final gear of speed.
    The streets and the people on them are a blur. The siren wails. The guards close in. I'm a strong runner, but the adrenaline has my heart beating entirely too fast for me to find a sustainable pace. My lungs cry out for oxygen, demanding my legs slow down. A dagger-like pain cuts jaggedly across my chest. My legs are gassed. It's only a matter of seconds before they give out and I'll be back on the ground.
    I'm slowing down. My body is crashing. There will be no escape.
    I look behind me. There's now only one guard in pursuit, and it's not the one I struck in the face.
Good. If I'm going to die today, at least I made one of them suffer.
This cruel thought gives me a surprising amount of joy in my last moments.
    That's when the guard gets down to business. A shot rings out, and the whoosh of a bullet screams past my ear. I hit the ground. In a panic I flip my aching body over and meet the end of a steel barrel.
    "Freeze! Don't move!" The guard comes closer and kicks my inner thigh with a tremendous amount of force. "Roll onto your stomach, and place your hands on your back.
Slowly"
    I do precisely as he says, resting my bloody hands on top of the gun I've concealed beneath my jacket.