Destiny of Coins (19 page)

“I cannot protect you again,” Moroni said to me. I could’ve sworn his eyes the other night were a purple shade not unlike that of his feathers. But, as he addressed me, they were definitely blue—and luminescent, though not on fire as my Lord’s eyes had been the night before. “You could very well die, and then what would become of those you cherish, your family?”

A strange thing for a warrior angel to be concerned about, I’d say. And, yet, I suddenly realized Moroni was addressing what I’d likely lose in going after Kaslow. This could easily be seen as me in my selfish bullheadedness costing myself the lifetime with my son and wife I so desperately longed for.

“Are you saying I will likely die if I don’t simply let him take the prize and go on his merry way?”

Moroni nodded, though subtly. “Yes, it is foreseen as the likely outcome,” he said.

“Then so be it…let me at least do what I can to stop him,” I said. Sadness overwhelmed my very soul, as this was not the result I sought. But I couldn’t bear facing a world in danger of being destroyed by my enemy—and certainly he would destroy the very planet if given the chance. And if the world’s fate fell to this madman, it would be just a matter of time before Beatrice, Alistair, Amy—and anyone else I cared about would be destroyed by this fiend’s insatiable lust for violence. “Please look after my boy and his girl…and my beloved Beatrice.”

“Peace to you, Judas.”

He dropped me into the frigid, swift-flowing water. Although I had hoped to run my hands along the streambed’s unseen mud and rocks, the current was far too powerful to resist its pull. In a matter of seconds, I was dragged to the chasm and dropped into it. I wanted to scream in surprise, as I was dropped more than a hundred feet into pitch darkness. But if I did somehow survive, I didn’t want to give Kaslow an advanced warning I was coming.

If I were merely human, I surely would have emerged from the chasm that twisted through the earth’s cooler depths a bloody, broken mess—and, dead. There were unseen, jagged rocks that tore my flesh and walls that my face and chest were slammed into repeatedly.

At one point, after a vicious blow to my head, I was plunged into a whirlpool that sucked me even deeper into the earth. Water filled my lungs and I couldn’t cough it up—I was going to drown! ...But just as the warmth that follows such painful experiences began to pull my spirit out of my broken, rag-doll body, I was thrust out of the earth and slammed against another wall that hit my chest hard enough to force much of the water out.

My spirit was immediately dragged back into my body. Racked with incredible pain, I fell onto a ledge. Out of the water, finally, I gasped for air while coughing up more liquid. Meanwhile, next to me, the powerful current from inside the earth continued to spew out violently. Its roar as it cascaded down onto several immense boulders was near deafening. Sparse light appeared another hundred feet below me, and I suddenly realized I was lying alongside a massive waterfall.

Maybe this was what the angel had warned about…as if my journey up until this point had been a pampered massage in a day spa. But another jump to the bottom reaches of the crashing water certainly looked far worse than my leap from the castle had been.

Then I saw Kaslow standing up amid the foaming white water. Despite the violent push of the water descending all around him, he held up his right hand to his face. Something shimmered like a precious sapphire. I needed no further confirmation to know what it was he lovingly admired in his hand.

I’m not sure I even debated what to do next. In truth, thinking about my next move for very long wouldn’t have altered my limited options. There was only one way out of this cave as it was, and the remaining question was whether I wanted to possibly die now or later.

I jumped again.

Whether Kaslow had any inkling during my first jump that I had chosen to pursue him, there was no doubt he was completely clueless this time. Maybe it was the coin. I pictured it mesmerizing his mind and soul—if he even has such an essence—as it had transfixed me. I landed on his shoulders and forced the blow from my impact into his torso.

He disappeared into the water, as did I. Mindful to not be near enough to his person for him to grab me with his rage-filled, bare hands, I somersaulted in the water until I could gain my feet again. By then, I was at least thirty feet from the base of the waterfall and was once again in sunlight.

My first thought was of grateful, silent praise to the Almighty for extending enough mercy for me to survive what had been prophesied as certain death. Granted, Viktor Kaslow might still have something to say about that. But, at the moment, he was nowhere to be found.

Realizing he should be floating…either as a corpse or stunned immortal, I warily scanned the area behind me. Nothing. I turned my attention to the area in front of me, where the stream thinned and narrowed. Smaller evergreens and cinchona trees grew in abundance near the shore on either side. But still, there was no sign of the nemesis I had grown to hate more and more with every passing moment.

While debating about where to look next for Kaslow, his cache of weapons suddenly surfaced a few feet in front of me. To my surprise and horror, the arsenal was still attached to his back, and the former Serb who couldn’t die began to stand up again.

It looked like his feet might be stuck in the streambed’s mud, and to balance himself as he emerged, the hand holding my coin rose up out of the water. Surely he realized how difficult it could be to retrieve it again if it slipped from his grasp. I am thankful for his choosing to focus on that aspect and not on my presence nearby. Either he was totally foolhardy to believe I was no longer a serious factor, or he was so taken by the coin’s magic he forgot about my presence entirely.

Knowing an opportunity like this would likely never present itself again, I waded quickly through the water and grabbed his wrist at the pressure point. Immortal or not, I counted on his weakened nerves to loosen his tenacious grip on the shekel. It worked, and as soon as I wrested my coin from his hand I took off running.

I wouldn’t get far. I knew this. It wasn’t realistic to even hope against hope that I’d reach the shoreline. But I did make it onto dry ground again.

Before Kaslow’s angry roar and litany of threats against my soul and physical person commenced, I knew his next bullet wouldn’t miss. Shooting me would no longer be mere sport, where he drew out the agony by shots to my extremities. His earlier threats of obliteration would now become a sacred oath he intended to fulfill. So, I ran toward the trees, picturing my beloved son and wife in my mind to help spur me on for as far as I could get before the gunshots came.

I never dreamed I’d be tackled so easily from behind.

“Don’t move, William!” a deep voice whispered from behind me. “Stay still and remain quiet!”

* * *

Worse than ever before, the memory of my betrayal of Jesus Christ overwhelmed me as I lay beneath the heavy weight of my assailant. Truly, this person’s massive size was nothing in comparison to the terrible burden that presently revisited my soul. It was a vision from hell, though not in the literal sense. Centuries of compounded guilt are far more painful than steel-melting flames from the earth’s core could ever be.

It came from the coin—all of it. And, yet, I was powerless to release my grip upon the damned thing, pinned as I was upon the stream’s southern bank. To a large degree, I’ve been able to block out the visions of my fallacious role that fateful night, usually brought on when collecting each of the previous twenty-three coins. But nothing could spare me from the onslaught of this particular coin.

The Singing Coin is misnamed, as the shrieking pitch didn’t subside until I found myself back in Simon’s garden, listening to Jesus pray from the other side of the courtyard wall. I heard my immature thoughts from then, as well, while wondering what in the hell was keeping Caiaphas’s messenger from delivering my bounty money. The cool plaster’s texture from the wall felt rough against my fingers and forearms as I pressed closer to remain hidden. The scent of fruit blossoms filled the air from the vineyard and a small orchard nearby.

The undisciplined footsteps of the guards who served Caiaphas soon resounded behind me, and behind them came the sandaled footfalls in unison from the Romans as they stormed the courtyard. Knowing the confusion that would follow didn’t prevent me from having to relive the brutality in my mind. The spiritual replay of a historic moment is like that…and my helpless inability to choose differently deepened my sorrow.

I felt renewed impatience toward the kid who carried the bag of coins and who hurried to join me as I crouched next to the courtyard wall. This messenger looked frightened—either since he was still a boy sent to do a man’s job, or perhaps he instinctively understood the levity of what was about to be assessed against his own soul. Regardless of whether it was his fault or mine in mishandling the bag exchange, the result was the same.

“Judas?”

Horror filled my mind to hear Jesus call my name again, and His voice resounded loudly inside my head. Meanwhile, I watched the coin bounce out of my reach…the only time I ever heard it actually ring. It bounced and rolled away and then I ran…feeling the sandy soil from the vineyard begin to cake between my toes….

“Hold on…I think he’s coming to!”

It was Alistair’s voice, and he sounded close by.

“Judas, can you hear us now?”

The genteel Spanish of this other voice definitely belonged to Francisco de Luciano. My initial thoughts as the images of the vision faded were about survival. My boy and at least one of our Essene hosts had survived the bunker confrontation with Kaslow.

As if dealing with bright sunlight on the morning after a night of continual inebriation, it took my eyes a moment to adjust. Out of an almost ethereal light, vague figures steadily became defined. Amy and Alistair were leaning over me to my left, and to my right were the smirking faces of Cedric and Rafael. At my feet stood Francisco.

“Where am I?”

Well at least they all seemed relieved, smiling and then laughing as I sought to verify my location. Obviously, I was no longer back in Judea two thousand years ago. A slight tremor in my view of the sky beyond the five of them hinted at movement. We were traveling…possibly in something like Tampara’s hovercraft from the previous day’s journey to the castle.

“Pops, you might want to wait to sit up,” Alistair advised. Too late, but his admonishment was justified. A feeling similar to a severe hangover seized my head and body. “Did anyone think to bring water when we loaded up at the castle?”

“I have water in my canteen.”

Rafael leaned in closer to me, and I gratefully drank from his open container. Since I hadn’t received an answer to my first question, I moved right along to the next ones.

“Where’s Kaslow? And how in the hell did I end up here?”

The hangover feeling and attendant nausea—symptoms that seemed almost foreign, as it had been decades since I had experienced anything like this—quickly faded. Within half a minute of drinking the water, my strength returned and I stood up. We were all inside Tampara’s vehicle. The tall Yitari warrior was at the front of the craft, standing with his arms stretched out before him as he telepathically steered the hovercraft toward the glowing sphere above his realm’s version of Lake Titicaca. 

“Tampara rescued you, since his was the clearest vision of what had become of you and Kaslow, as well as your present location at the time,” Francisco explained. “After the Russian had left us in pursuit of you and your coin, we followed him at a safe distance.”

“You should’ve followed your original plan to take the other tunnel to safety,” I said. “Kaslow could’ve turned on you all at any time, and finished what he started.”

“If we had done that, then you would likely be dead by now, Pops,” said Alistair, with a little crossness in his voice. “Tampara saved your life, so you should be a bit more grateful to him.”

So, it was the big fella in the tunic who tackled me from behind.

“Thank you, Tampara,” I said.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled—which was the most I expected from the quietest member of our entourage.

I was actually beside myself with inner joy that my son and his gal, along with Cedric and our Essene friends, were still among the living. I moved toward Alistair and embraced him, and I believe we both struggled with keeping our emotions in check. Amy joined us, too, and quietly expressed how she thought I was gone forever after seeing the incredible damage Kaslow had wrought upon the castle’s interior. She wept, and it was almost enough for me to join her in shedding tears. However, since I now understood our enemy was still out there, somewhere, I restrained myself. Our war was far from over.

“You are definitely one damned lucky son of a bitch,” said Cedric, shaking his head while grinning at me. “Tampara says he saw you jump off the castle’s roof when Viktor Kaslow dived down into that stream. Yeah, I know all about your miraculous healing powers, Willie Boy. But, I think even you know you’d have never survived that fall if the angel hadn’t saved your ass…. I can’t believe I’m even talking about shit like this. It still doesn’t seem real. It’s undeniably fucked up, is what it is.”

“Yes, old friend, I’ll second that notion,” I agreed, returning his grin with my own sheepish one. But I now had more questions for our Yitari friend. “Tampara, how did you manage to keep us both from taking either a rocket or a shower of hollow point bullets to the back?”