This is the Paperback format.
In a routine eye exam, Darren McArthur's life takes an extraordinary turn when his doctor sends his consciousness 400 years into the future. There, he inhabits the body of Kaden, an Agent serving the megalithic Tower that rules over humanity's last city. But as Kaden rises through the ranks, he discovers a terrifying truth: the Tower's leaders aren't just controlling the city—they're consuming its citizens.
As Darren/Kaden navigates between two timelines, he finds himself torn between loyalty to the Tower and his sister Kira's resistance movement. With monstrous Elites hunting dissenters, a mysterious figure named Jericho appearing throughout time, and the dark origins of humanity's fall slowly coming to light, Kaden must decide: Will he uphold the Tower's iron-fisted order, or risk everything to fight for humanity's soul?
Perfect for fans of Ted Dekker's "Circle Series," C.S. Lewis's "Space Trilogy," and James Byron Huggins's "Nightbringer", The Tower's Shadow blends dystopian science fiction with mind-bending time travel in a story that questions the true cost of order and control.
Strong language and violent scenes but never any profanity or sexual content.
Caution: Your interest in Jesus may increase dramatically!
Paperbacks typically ship within 1 business day, with another 3-5 business days to arrive.
Enjoy a sample of The Tower's Shadow
Chapter 1
He stepped into the office where the two figures that would change his life stood talking. One in the white lab coat of a doctor and the other in a three-piece suit with a chain arching neatly from the left breast pocket. They shook hands and parted ways as he entered. The businessman moved toward the front desk while the doctor stepped back, expectantly waiting for the new patient to check in. The shadows of the hallway shrouded his facial features, but Darren saw a polite smile on the optometrist's face. A flicker of bright eyes through the darkness.
“Mr. McArthur?” a sweet woman said as she stepped out from behind the front desk. She was shorter than Darren, with short graying hair that was curled up neatly. Her red button-up sweater, white blouse, and gold cross necklace gave her a sweet grandmother vibe. She could have passed for Mrs. Claus every Christmas.
“Yes, ma’am.” Darren nodded. He looked to her and then back toward the hallway. With his impaired vision, everything seemed a little blurry, but if he focused enough, he could make do. He told himself the unrelenting pain behind his eyelids whenever he closed them for more than a couple of seconds was the reason he stood in the optometrist’s office, but really it was his girlfriend’s insistence that drove him to get checked out. After a week and a half of bloodshot eyes and horrible sleep, her urging pushed him to make the call.
“Perfect timing, Mr. McArthur. I’m Ms. Barbara. Would you like a cookie?” She extended her hand in greeting. Darren shook it and took the clipboard of new patient forms.
“Cookie?”
“You fill those out and I’ll get you one and a nice glass of milk to go with it. You prefer skim, whole, vitamin D, or raw?” she asked.
“You serve raw milk?” Darren said, his eyebrows shooting up, and the thought of a cow hidden in a back office or behind the building filled his mind. The pain embedded in his eyes soon stole back his attention.
“Mmhmm,” her sweet voice hummed as she swiftly disappeared behind a corner.
“Don’t let her fool you. She runs a cookie empire. She makes more addicts out of this office than pharmacies with painkillers,” the businessman in the three-piece suit said as he leaned his back on the front desk. He appeared as comfortable as if he were in a recliner on vacation.
“Oh, empire, my foot!” she said from behind the corner. A second later, she came back into view with a tiny plate and coffee cup full of milk. “Now you take your time, young man, but don’t you let that warm cookie go cold.” The look in her eye reminded Darren of his own late grandmother, who had a way of inserting love even when being stern. Ms. Barbara had the same loving yet commanding way about her.
“Maybe I should have gotten into the cookie game? Medical devices and gene therapy don’t hold a candle to the sugar industry,” the three-piece suit said with a chuckle.
Before she could respond, the front door swung open and an elderly man entered the room. Large, circular wire-framed glasses that dwarfed the narrow face behind them came into the office with an ear-to-ear smile. His tan, leathery skin showed a lifetime of working in the sun.
“Now, Ms. Barbara, don’t you tell me no,” he demanded. He mockingly put his hands up, a small white envelope in one hand. “For all you and the doctor have done for me, my wife insisted,” he said, handing her the envelope.
“Oh, Almanzo, you’re too kind. And how is Laura?” Barbara asked with a matching grin.
“She’s just fine ever since the good doctor got her cataracts out. Rode with me for a full eighteen holes this past weekend. And get this, said she never knew how bad my putting was. She said I’m the blind one!” He shook his head but couldn’t hide his smile.
Darren found their smiles and friendly banter infectious, but the three-piece suit rolled his eyes as the two leaned in.
“Oh, she didn’t,” Barbara replied.
“She done did! But aww, raspberries, we both know that woman is right about golf as all else in our lives. You tell that doctor thank you, will ya?”
“Tell him yourself!” Barbara motioned to the hallway.
Almanzo went silent, immediately straightening up as he looked at the doctor. His eyes watered as he stepped forward and hugged the man in the white lab coat.
“Thank you. You’ve shown me so much,” Almanzo said, muffled by the embrace.
He stepped back into the lobby area, keeping his eyes on the doctor as the doctor stayed back. Reluctantly, Almanzo finally turned away from the doctor and walked past the three-piece suit, who mockingly saluted him. Almanzo ignored him as if the sharply dressed businessman wasn’t there. Finally, Almanzo flashed a gigantic smile and a wave to Ms. Barbara as he left.
Barbara turned to the doctor in the hallway. They exchanged a glance of satisfaction.
“Well, I’ll need another box of tissues if there’s any more Hallmark movies,” the suit said.
“You hush now, and take a seat next to the nice Mr. McArthur while I get the doctor’s signature,” Barbara chided as she pulled a thick manila folder from under her desk. She shot an uncertain look at her patiently waiting boss as she motioned to the businessman.
“You sure about this?” she said plainly for the businessman and Darren to overhear. The doctor didn’t reply, but turned and walked with her as the two disappeared into the shadows, leaving the suit and Darren in the waiting room.
The man stood as Darren secretly lifted his eyes from the paperwork to look him over. He was tall, at least six-four, with a broad, chiseled jawline. The more Darren observed the man, the more he stared. He was extremely handsome, with short blonde hair perfectly parted and combed to the side, product holding it in place, yet still a natural look. The fitted suit was tight on his upper body. His chest, shoulders, and biceps bulged under the silky smooth fabric.
A moment later, Darren met the man’s eyes and quickly looked away. The suit smiled and turned to face him, now shifting his impatience to once again leaning comfortably, as if back on vacation and having all the time in the world.
“Tell me, Mr. McArthur,” he said. “What is your enterprise and is it successful?”
“I…” he said, picking his head up. He locked eyes with the man and lost his train of thought. A moment of silence passed as the businessman waited for Darren to continue.
“That good, eh?” He left the desk and put his hands in his pockets, both thumbs sticking out as his fingers comfortably rested inside the tailored material. He walked past Darren to the end of the waiting room and looked out the window.
“How old are you, boy? Twenty-four, twenty-five?” he asked.
“Twenty-five.”
“Girlfriend? Married?”
“Girlfriend, but…” Darren stopped himself.
“But… hope for more?” He turned, a smile creeping from one corner of his mouth.
Darren nodded.
“Now, if I may, what would her father say if you asked for her hand? AND, what if he asked you back something like ‘what are you all about?’ and ‘how you doing with that?’”
Darren remained quiet, not admitting that he received glowing approval when he asked for her hand three months ago. None of those questions came up. But finding enough savings to buy a ring was his constant challenge. After paying rent, bills, and a modest date here and there, there wasn’t much left.
“Boy, you need to know where you’re going if you’re ever going to get there,” the man said.
“I know where I’m going,” Darren replied defensively.
“Great, tell me!” the man jested.
“I’m going to see the doctor so I can get my eyes checked out.” Darren let a smile slip out. The man’s face dropped, unimpressed with the humor.
“Clever and all-knowing, about right for your age. But I’ll tell you what, if you ever figure out your target, you come see me.”
“But who…” Darren began as a grin trickled onto the man’s face, like he’d been eagerly waiting for Darren to ask.
“I’m easy to find,” he said, picking up a magazine from the end table. He spun it through the air like the last playing card from a winning poker hand, dropping it perfectly next to Darren on the waiting room couch.
Looking back at Darren from the cover of Medical Magazine was the businessman. Instead of a three-piece suit, he donned a surgical gown as Photoshopped images of DNA double helices surrounded him. His arms crossed and a half smile that oozed confidence. The headline stated “Dr. Thomas Thornhill and his miracle drug.”
“Tell her I’ll be back later, would ya?” Dr. Thornhill said as he strolled out of the office. Darren nodded, looking back and forth between the man and the magazine.
Barbara came back from up the hall and rustled through supplies at her desk. Darren set the magazine aside and returned to the paperwork, a pain simmering in his eyes as he squinted to focus. But soon, Barbara’s smile lit up the room once again and wrapping up the material was easier than before.
“All done?” she said as she extended her hand, and to Darren’s surprise, she didn’t ask about Dr. Thornhill being gone.
She took the papers back to the front desk.
“He said he’d be back later,” Darren said.
“Who? Oh yes, he always seems to come and go, reporting his lab trials or such-and-such,” she said as she clicked away at the computer.
Another silence grew in between every click of the keyboard.
“So, how’d you like it?” she said, and Darren looked around, confused at the question. “The cookie?” she clarified.
Darren turned to stone, mortified that Thornhill’s conversation distracted him from the wonderful-smelling treat. He took half of it in one bite and his soul felt it was melting faster than the soft chocolate chips. He didn’t realize he’d shoved the second half in his mouth when he tried to reply. Only a muffled ‘mmmmm’ came out.
“Good, eh?”
“Mmmmhmmm.” Darren nodded vigorously and then washed it down with the milk, finishing the cup in two gulps.
“Okay. Right this way, Mr. McArthur,” she said, popping up from her desk.
“How’d you know my name when I came in earlier?” Darren asked.
“Oh, we see all,” she said with a serious tone before a pleasant grin slipped out. She motioned toward the hallway as she continued. “Most of our patients have been here for years. It’s easy to spot a newcomer, plus,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “newcomers are the most fun.”
“Glad to hear it,” Darren said.
Darren turned and began walking into the shadow-filled hallway. Bright white lights and modern furniture gave the waiting area a pearly-white sense of life, more of an art exhibit than an eye doctor’s office. However, the hallway leading back to the exam room felt a generation old, giving it the sense of a portal to another world. Old, dark wood panels came up to his waist below dingy beige-colored walls.
“Also, I can see your bloodshot eyes from here. Dear, that has to be painful,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s not great,” Darren said, trying not to rub his eyes now that his mind focused on them.
“But have no fear, for Dr. Abrams is here! I swear it’s like he takes you to your healthiest self somewhere in the future and then brings the best back here. A shepherd of true health if you ask me.”
“How long have you worked here?” Darren asked.
“Not as long as I’ve been a patient, but let’s not recount ancient history.” She winked at him as they entered the exam room.
“Just take a seat?” Darren asked as he studied the room.
“The good doctor will be right in,” she said.
He stepped into the office and the same bright 5000k white lights used in the waiting room nearly blinded him after the dimly lit hallway.
“Thank you, Ms. Barbara,” he said.
“My pleasure,” she said, already a few steps back down the hallway.
He sat in silence, taking in the common office. A small rolling stool rested near a sink and cabinets while a large gray phoropter hung above him from the ceiling, its countless dials ready to test his vision.
Soon, the rhythmic sound of dress shoes striking the hard floor sounded behind him.
“Hello, Mr. McArthur,” the doctor said in a low, gentle voice as he entered. “Pardon our dust.” He motioned to the dark hallway. “It’s actually a lighting trick, so it’s easier to upsell patients to the most expensive brands.”
Darren’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Just kidding. I love those old panels, but alas, they’ll be the last to go as we remodel. The front of the office is nice, eh? Another of Ms. Barbara’s talents that improves this place,” he said as he reached out his hand with a smile.
“It is, and her cookies are wonderful,” Darren said, shaking the doctor’s hand. The hand was rougher than Darren would have expected, more of a manual labor feel than a doctor.
“Oh my, yes. You know she once had a food company rep in here telling her she could sell a million of those things if she’d license her recipe to them.”
“And she wouldn’t?” Darren asked.
“Oh, she absolutely sold. She’s worth ten times more than anyone else in this town! The funny part is that I can’t get her to retire. I think she gets a kick out of serving them to patients. Plus, they’re always better when she makes ‘em. The packaged kind is good, but you know, kind of eh,” he said.
The doctor wasn’t as large or handsome as Dr. Thornhill, but he had a calming sense to him, reminding Darren of a younger version of his grandfather. He had passed six months after his grandmother. A powerful yet gentle man that never overwhelmed with size or shouts but always carried a certain confidence. In his grandfather’s last few years, his body became a shell of the powerful man Darren remembered from his childhood days, but the times together by the campfire or silently watching the river flow by his back cabin were cemented in Darren’s mind. His grandfather had a John Wayne feel to him when he was getting work done around his cabin and the sprawling land that backed up to the river, but when it was time to relax, the bear hugs that held Darren or any of his cousins made them instantly feel protected and safe.
Dr. David Abrams gave off the same feeling of strength and protection, but without the bear hug. He seemed to do it with a single look and a smile. His distinct gray eyes beamed and held Darren’s gaze from under the doctor’s salt and pepper short hair.
“Good for her,” Darren said.
“And for all the patients, but you didn’t come to talk about cookies. Tell me what’s going on?”
“Glass…” Darren felt the pain flare in his eyes as he thought of it.
The doctor leaned in to listen.
“My girlfriend has been saving glass bottles, old coke bottles, wine bottles, you know. We’re cleaning and painting them up. We keep some and give some, but mostly she sells online and at local markets.”
“Sounds lovely,” the doctor said.
Darren nodded. “Yeah, she’s wonderful and has great ideas for how to make something out of nothing. But one bottle, it shattered as I was scrubbing the label off.” He held out his hand, showing remnants of a few nasty gashes that were now scabbing over. “But I think some bits got in my eyes. If I blink hard or when I’m trying to sleep, they sting. They just… hurt,” he said as he winced.
“Sounds like it. Let’s look,” Dr. Abrams said as he pulled a small flashlight out of the front pocket of his white lab coat.
Darren tried not to flinch as the bright light moved around his cornea.
“Something is in there. Almost like sand that is scratching at your eyes,” the doctor said. He waved Darren to another seat on the side of the room and tapped the device. “Chin here, forehead here.”
“Is this the giant poof machine?” Darren asked as he complied with the instructions.
Dr. Abrams quit adjusting knobs. His brilliant gray eyes peered out from behind the equipment, and the smile gave Darren a feeling of ease.
“Sure is. It’s best to think happy thoughts so you’re not waiting for it to–”
POOF!
A shot of air hit Darren’s right eye. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too painful given his condition and Dr. Abrams’s distracting conversation.
“Okay, next one.” The nozzle backed up and then shifted over to his left eye.
“Tell me more about you. Girlfriend? Job?”
“Are you just trying to distract–”
POOF!
The second shot of air struck Darren’s eyes.
“Yup,” he said. The doctor grinned as he stood up and moved back to the main exam chair. “But I certainly want to learn about those areas and hope they’re going well.”
“Me too,” Darren commented.
The doctor froze and turned toward Darren.
“Tell me more?” he asked.
“Job stuff and future, you know, finances and tying the knot,” Darren admitted, then immediately wished he hadn’t shared the personal thoughts. “We don’t need to talk about these things. I know you’re busy.”
“I see.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Finances can become a blessing or a curse. One of the most hard-hitting questions to answer for yourself is ‘Is wealth worth it?’”
Darren nodded, remaining silent as a guilty feeling overtook him. What kind of provider would he be in the future if he couldn’t even afford a decent ring?
Dr. Abrams opened a nearby cabinet and shuffled through its contents.
“Ah, here we are. Simple antibiotics, often overused, but in this case, they’re exactly what you need. I’ll give you the first dose, but you’ll need to do these daily. The first few won’t be fun. It’ll hurt, but the body is amazing. You’ll make a full recovery.”
“It can’t be worse than what it is now,” Darren said.
“This will hurt much worse than it does now,” the doctor said. “That’s usually the case before real healing.”
Darren winced, but the calming gray eyes of the doctor gave a sense of solace amid the painful ordeal, like being wrapped in a warm blanket as they traveled through bitter cold.
“If it heals ‘em, let’s do it.” Darren straightened up in the leather chair.
“That’s the spirit. You know how antibiotics work, right?” he said, pausing for a moment as he readied the dropper with medicine. “They stop bacteria from multiplying. It breaks down the cells within the bacteria. Once they can’t reproduce and the original population dies off, well, it’s like a mass extinction event.”
“Sounds like a good thing,” Darren tried to agree.
“Can be. Bacteria can serve a purpose, but can also be horrible. Reminds us that even horrible things serve a purpose. Okay, lean your head back.”
Doctor Abrams held back one of Darren’s eyelids and let three precise drops fall.
It felt like fire erupted underneath his eyelids. He shouted and jerked his head, but the doctor quickly put his hand on the younger man’s forehead and held him steady. Pain illuminated his eye, burning the socket all around his eye. However, in the heat of the horrid sensation, the gentle, firm hand of the doctor gave him a sense of peace. It calmed him enough to endure the intense feeling until it gradually decreased.
“It stops malicious bacteria, but, unfortunately, kills the good bacteria as well. Such a powerful agent can’t tell the difference between good and bad. Both die off.”
“There are good bacteria in my eyes?” Darren said as he blinked, one eye still searing in pain.
“Lean back. Let’s get the other one… Every living thing serves its purpose. And unfortunately, when the bad overwhelms or prevents the good from doing its job, well… everything suffers. But thankfully, there is always a remnant of the good left to rebuild. That’s a promise.”
He let loose another three drops and Darren once again flinched, this time able to hold back a scream. The doctor held his hand on the patient, helping to control and calm him as the pain died down. The second set of drops was just as painful as the first, but the doctor holding him and speaking to him helped.
“Okay, so one set of three drops every day until you use up the bottle. Should be about ten days.”
Darren wanted to rub his eyes, but he resisted. Instead, he blinked like crazy as his eyes watered.
“When was your last eye exam?” Dr. Abrams asked.
“Probably high school. I’ve never needed glasses,” Darren said.
“There’s a lot more to healthy sight than just glasses, but tell you what, let’s start with vision correction and go from there?”
“I’m not sure my insurance covers that, and thank you, but I really should get back to work. My boss is strict on time.”
“Free of charge, and you’ll need to let those drops settle for a bit until you drive. So before you get another cookie on your way out, what do you say?”
The thought of Ms. Barbara’s delicious cookies softened Darren’s resolve. He nodded in agreement and the doctor pulled down the large gray phoropter. The silver rings around the little glass holes sparkled against the light as the smooth arm swung down and the doctor positioned it in front of Darren.
“Sure. What can it hurt? But wait, can I even see clearly right now?” He blinked and a tear of excess moisture escaped, rolling down his cheek.
“Sometimes we only see clearly after intense situations.” The doctor lined up the large device to Darren’s eyes. “Now, lean forward and tell me what you see…”
Darren wiped the tear away and pressed his face against the device. At first, all he saw was black and thought a cover must still be on, but then the doctor’s voice seemed to jump down the hallway, like it echoed from a distant cave. White sparkles illuminated the black. Then, the world around him changed.
He was no longer in the black leather exam chair but was looking up at the night sky and desperately trying to catch his breath.