Victory of Coins (The Judas Chronicles, #7) Page 19

  “Holy shit!” gasped Rachel, as she and Cedric joined me.

  Inside the basket were several hundred silver shekels, and all were identical to the twenty-nine coins hidden inside a highly secured vault in the underground fortress at my Abingdon estate. But that was not the worst aspect of this most unpleasant surprise. Each and every one of the coins was glowing... blue!

  “It’s all for naught!” cried Judas, after collapsing on the stone walkway, pounding his fists against the unforgiving limestone surface. “Every... everything I have worked so hard for is nothing but a fucking fraud!”

  “There must be some mistake,” I tried to assure him, kneeling beside him and wanting to gather my dear friend into my arms to console him—if only I knew he would allow it, which I was certain he wouldn’t. Not yet. “There must be some logical explanation, my brother—it can’t be—”

  “The hell you say, Rod!” He gritted his teeth to try to contain a level of grief I had only known once, though emotional trauma is a unique experience for each of us as individuals. “I can’t... I just can’t do this anymore!”

  Rachel joined him in weeping, as did Cedric. I was destined to follow, as my heart broke for him. But the merchant, who I had assumed would be observing us with a sardonic smile, stepped over to Judas and motioned for him to stand up. I looked into the face of this man, searching for clues as to whether I should allow him to continue the charade of goodwill or move to break his neck. His expression seemed as if it were one of compassion, or so I assumed. The eyes are the windows to the human soul, and a cheap pair of Foster-Grants hid his from view.

  “Come,” he said. “Come with me... I believe I might have something more valuable than what you have sought.”

  All of us were taken aback by the man who looked derelict, and yet possessed a confident voice and a better English vocabulary than Judas had advised. The man repeated his invitation, and while the rest of us looked on guardedly, Judas got to his feet and stepped over to a small alcove nearby.

  The two conversed quietly for a moment, and then the man removed his sunglasses. Judas immediately fell to his knees, reaching for the man’s filthy hands to kiss them.

  “Oh, my God... I can’t believe this is happening!” marveled Rachel, in a hushed voice.

  Cedric repeated her observation, adding a few colorful adjectives. As for me, I was too astounded to say anything.

  “I’m so, so sorry!” said Judas, beseeching this man for forgiveness. “I didn’t know it was you! How could I have known?” He moved to kiss the man’s hands again, but the merchant stopped him.

  “You once believed you could buy your way into the Kingdom of Heaven,” said the merchant, speaking loud enough for us to clearly hear his words—this man who was obviously someone far greater than what his clever disguise indicated. “It was folly to hold such a fanciful idea for as long as you did. Yet, pursuing these coins—the blood coins, as you call them—has taught you important lessons. I see that you, Judas, have learned to love others as yourself, and would now willingly lay your life down for them while fighting to the death for truth and justice over wickedness. That is the lesson you had failed to understand so long ago.... Where you were lost, now you are found... and from that salvation comes your freedom.”

  A charge moved through the air around us, and Rachel glanced at me to see if I understood what was happening as much as she did. My heart broke further, but this time it was a bittersweet realization that the end had finally come for the man I had loved more than any other person outside of Claudia, and my sons, Albinus and Octavian.

  “Oh my God—look!” exalted Judas, rising to his feet while reaching for something that at first I couldn’t detect. “Beatrice! Oh my, and Alistair, too! How I have missed you both!”

  He staggered to where a swirling mist of illuminated gold had suddenly formed, next to the merchant that I now realized must be Jesus—we all knew it, based on the looks of wonder upon Cedric’s and Rachel’s faces. As Judas’ fingers touched the mist, his hands began to disappear and the mist glowed brighter.

  “Is that you, Momma?!” he shouted, while laughing in a level of ecstasy I had never seen from him before. Meanwhile, the golden mist engulfed his arms, and began to envelope the rest of his body. He began to disappear as the molecules of his entire physical being were pulled into the mist, like grains of sand gathered and lifted by steady gusts of wind. “I’m coming, Joseph—I see you, Mara, and Matthew! ...I....”

  Before he fully disappeared he looked over at me, mouthing that he loved me along with his goodbyes to Cedric and Rachel. The last few trails of his essence were pulled into the mist that evaporated into nothingness.

  I felt as if my heart and soul had been pulled out of my body and torn asunder, and then squeezed back inside of me. I honestly didn’t know how I would deal without my buddy’s presence in my life after nearly two millennia sharing this amazing existence. Even so, I had known for some time that the end was coming soon. I would have to carry on alone... somehow, until the ‘still small voice’ inside of me finally advised that my stay on Earth was over.

  The merchant turned toward us and approached, his appearance changing into a more comely persona. No, it wasn’t some movie star depiction of Jesus, as some might expect, but something closer to what I had previously witnessed of Him when I hitched a psychic ride back in time with Judas to the eve of his birth into immortality. All three of us fell to our knees once we beheld the powerful and penetrating gaze of Jesus Christ. I doubt his eyes are always so blue—richer by far than the attendant glow from the cursed coins Judas and I had pursued for so many centuries—but there was no uncertainty that the eternal energy residing in the universe also lives in those eyes.

  I could go on about His magisterial presence, but a story remains to be resolved.

  “Please... all of you stand,” He said, regarding us with a level of palpable compassion I had never experienced before. He soon settled his gaze on Rachel. “Daughter of nine, would you also like to come home?”

  Rachel nodded, and I thought we would soon be down to just Cedric and me. But then she shook her head and muttered “no... I’m not ready yet.”

  Jesus chuckled. “Very well,” He said. “Mary and the others shall wait a while longer for your reunion.”

  Rachel burst into tears, and I thought she might change her mind and follow Judas, but she told Him, “These two clowns need my help, and the world still needs us all.”

  “I admire your spirit, Rachel,” He said, smiling while regarding Cedric and myself. No such offers of ‘going home’ were given to either of us, and in truth I am not quite ready to call it day just yet—despite the blow to the joy of living I had just received. Neither is Cedric, from what I can tell.

  Jesus moved over to the basket of glowing coins and reached deep toward the bottom, pulling out a single coin. When he did, the glow inside the basket died, as the entire fiery blue light was contained within the coin He held.

  “Is that the Damascus Coin?” I asked Him; relieved that Judas’ efforts to retrieve his tainted coins might not have been a waste of time after all.

  “Yes, it is,” He said. “I want you to take this back to America, Roderick, and bury it with the others far below the earth’s surface—farther than where the others are presently waiting. Will you do this?”

  Like I had a choice, and who in their right mind would deny Him once they’ve had a face-to-face encounter such as this?

  “Yes, I’ll do it right away,” I promised.

  “Very well... you all are free to go,” He said, and turned to walk away. But then He stopped and returned to us once more. “One last thing.... Tell those who will listen that love and forgiveness awaits those who believe in righteousness and my Father’s eternal mercy. Contrary to popular thought these days, I am not late. Nor am I delayed for the reasons they assume.... I will return, and sooner than most would expect.”

  A sudden gust of powerful wind moved through the air above us, pulli
ng our gazes away from Him, and it was followed by what sounded like thunder—strong enough to shake the ground beneath our feet. When we looked to where Jesus had stood just seconds before the disturbance, He was gone, along with the trappings of His ruse as an unseemly merchant.

  “I’m having a very hard time dealing with this shit,” whispered Cedric. “And, it doesn’t seem real that William’s gone....”

  “Well, all of us experienced what just happened—it wasn’t some grand illusion,” said Rachel.

  “I agree... but we better get going,” I said. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?” Cedric’s initial look of puzzlement soon changed to full understanding. “The gunfire is getting closer—shit!”

  “Too bad His Majesty couldn’t have whisked us back to Aleppo—or better yet, dropped us inside the plane that’s waiting for us in Istanbul,” I quipped, drawing an admonishing frown from Rachel and an admiring grin from Cedric. “I’m just playing.... And before you think I’m not deeply impressed by what just happened, I plan on turning over a new leaf spiritually, once we’re the hell away from this place. I believe in Him.”

  “While I would like for that to be true, we’ll see what you truly believe soon enough,” she said. “In the meantime, we need to get back to the Yukon before the mob beats us to it!”

  Rachel was right, and without waiting to see if anything else magical would happen in that place, we ran up the stairs and back to the alley. Unfortunately the area was no longer deserted, as the youths from earlier had finally arrived. For the moment, we were on opposite ends of the alley: They blocked the access we would eventually need to pass through to escape the slum—after retrieving the GMC from where it hopefully remained hidden—and we stood on the other end, near the stairway that no longer existed.

  “What in the hell?” marveled Cedric as he looked back at the crumbling wall that stood where the winding stairs had been just a moment ago.

  “Forget about it, Cedric!” Rachel advised. A glance in my direction was all she needed to confirm I sensed the same thing as she. “We need to make a run for it—to try and reach the alleyway where the car is parked before those guys cut us off!”

  Without waiting, she took off running, and Cedric and I sprinted to catch up. Meanwhile, the youths noticed us and whistled and waved for others to join them from the roadway behind them. I expected for these kids to take aim with their collection of assault rifles, cutting us down in a barrage of hollow point bullets. But instead they waited, and a moment later it became obvious as to why.

  “Are those guys who I think they are?” I asked my companions as we neared the spot where we would dodge to the left and find out if our ride back to safety was still waiting for us, hopefully unharmed.

  “Yes, I think so,” confirmed Rachel. “Looks like ISIS or some local wannabes!”

  Cedric confirmed the same thing. Roughly two-dozen men joined the youngsters, and these were all cloaked in dark hoodies and robes—despite the arid heat and unforgiving sun embracing us all. Each one was heavily armed, and most of the men took aim with what were surely the latest guns available on the black market.

  “Run faster!” I urged. “They’ll cut us down regardless, and we’ve almost reached the other alley!”

  We were within twenty meters of our intended destination, and the first volleys ricocheted off the cracked pavement. I was hit in my abdomen but managed to ignore the injury at present. Healing for me is slower than it was for Judas, but if we made it to the car and somehow survived this latest ordeal, I would be on the way to recovery by the time we exited the slum— especially since I could tell that the bullet to my abdomen had passed through cleanly. It could’ve been a much more serious deal had the bullet hit a rib or my spine and exploded.

  Hard to say if Rachel was hit or not; however, Cedric let out a painful yelp when a series of bullets tore through both shoulders and his right arm. He started to fall, and I grabbed him, dragging him into the alleyway behind Rachel.

  “Looks like the Yukon might be okay!” she announced, while I nervously watched the path we left behind. The incensed mob had come running after us when we defiantly kept running. Keep in mind that ‘westerners’ are despised here anyway by the ninety-nine percent Islamic population. Our brazenness would only be seen as an affront to these militants, who were easily misguided by extremist views of the tenets set forth by Muhammad. “Don’t look back, Roderick!”

  “But they’re coming—”

  “I know—just trust me on this! We need to reach the car as quickly as possible!”

  Against what I considered to be my better judgment, I focused on getting Cedric to the GMC. The clamoring of the mob grew closer, and I expected a rain of kill shots to descend upon us in the next few seconds, as the group turned up the second alley.

  But it didn’t happen.

  “Oh my God,” Rachel whispered, reverently. She had just reached the vehicle and paused before climbing in. I followed her gaze to the scene behind us.

  The mob had run past our hideout as if it wasn’t there. After a moment of staring dumbfounded toward the other alley, I finally realized we were camouflaged in some similar manner to how the spiraling stairway had turned into a crumbling wall a few minutes earlier. Several youths came back and tugged at invisible bricks that blocked their view of the GMC and us, confirming the trick.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” she said, her eyes and hands directed heavenward.

  Despite what seemed like a genuine miracle, we checked the Yukon for explosives and then gently opened the doors. Cedric did his best to keep his pained moans to a minimum, until we were safely inside. Rachel retrieved the crystals that Cedric had brought with him from the glove box, and I assisted her in placing them over Cedric’s wounds.

  “Were you hit?” I asked her.

  “No... but I see that you were.” She eyed the growing red halo above my belt buckle and to the left.

  “I’ll be okay... I’ve suffered much worse.”

  She nodded and turned her attention to Cedric, while I glanced through the rear of the car to the alley behind us. The mob was gathered there... but no one approached. Instead, most were looking around themselves to try and determine where we had disappeared. I noticed there were fewer militants in attendance—perhaps witnessing our vanishing act had quickened superstitions about evil spirits and supernatural beings of local folklore.

  Cedric began to recover, but I believed he would experience significant discomfort for the rest of the day. He certainly would be of little use if we were drawn into another confrontation. Meanwhile, the majority of the mob remained until lengthened shadows announced the advent of dusk was at hand.

  We waited to venture out of hiding until after Maghrib. By then, the entire area around us seemed to be completely deserted.

  “Just take it slow and easy, and we should be fine,” I advised, after Rachel started the engine and prepared to turn around. In truth, I wasn’t convinced an ambush wasn’t waiting for us—despite the deathlike stillness.

  “I’ve got this, Rod,” she said. “I’ve been doing this longer than you ever did.” She smiled lovingly despite the jab.

  I sat up front with her, while Cedric relaxed behind us. For the moment, the road ahead remained deserted. After carefully pulling out into the alleyway, I was pleased that the entire area truly did seem like a ghost town. Leaving the windows down, I didn’t hear a single gunshot report as we sought to leave the slum and head for the safer sections of Damascus.

  “I’d say our miracle is continuing,” I observed, once we were among the more peaceful natives, and nearing the main highway that would take us back to Aleppo. “I hope I’m not being foolish to assume it will last.”

  “Man, I don’t think you could be foolish with any proposed explanations or assumptions about anything that happened to us today,” said Cedric, sitting up in the back seat.

  “You should rest for now,” Rachel advised, casting a motherly look his way. “You haven’t com
pletely healed yet.”

  “I’m healed enough,” he advised. “I’m ready to get back home, so I can try to process all of this shit. I bet it’s gonna take some time, man.”

  True, it wouldn’t happen right away, although the healing of our mutual loss did begin a little that night, on the plane ride from Aleppo to Athens. Rummaging through Judas’ journals that he likes to keep with him, I came across this latest one. Over the years, I had watched him making entries that could last for several hours at a time. I used to chide him about doing it by hand when he would later input the same damned thing into his laptop to be formatted for publishing.

  We shared tears and laughter while I read many of the passages aloud, and after I finished reading the rest of it to my companions as we set out for Washington the following morning, Rachel and Cedric asked me to finish this final journal of Judas’.

  ...So, here we are, near the end of this final chapter of what we have always fondly referred to as The Judas Chronicles. The three of us will be arriving at Dulles in less than two hours, and the mood has been light hearted today, as compared to the dreariness we all retired with last night in Athens. Rachel has just made a deal with Cedric, to reveal something that involves a tremendous opportunity to serve the world and save it from a new rise of international tyranny in exchange for a month’s unrestricted use of Alistair’s crystals given to him by me.

  “I would’ve let you borrow them for free, you know,” said Cedric. “But what’s up?”

  “Are you game, too, Rod?”

  “Well, it depends... as always,” I said.

  “Do you recall what I spoke of recently about the rise of the new Rosicrucian order among our numbers?” She eyed me intently, and I prepared myself for the hard sell that would soon follow.

  “You mean among our immortal companions?” I asked. “I thought they were going to keep to themselves and not become involved in something ‘so mortal’, as Damien told you.”