Devil's Island (44 page)

“You're wrong. If Jacob returns, he'll be interested in ministry work, not in being tied to the business. And even if he does want to take over the business, he won't try to shut me out. You tried to shut us
all
out, Naomi.”

Peter was yelling, but once he'd started, he couldn't stop. He unleashed the fury he'd been holding back. “You might as well have killed Father yourself,” he shouted. “You didn't do anything to help him—you encouraged his execution!”

Naomi rose, trembling with anger. “I did what I had to do to protect myself, and to protect the family fortune. And now I'll do whatever I have to do to get my inheritance. I'm the oldest child, and I have a right to this business!”

“You forfeited that right,” Peter said, calmer now. For a minute he silently watched Naomi pace the floor as she tried to gain control of herself.

“You don't know what it's like,” she said suddenly. “Being told you can't do something because you're a woman. I could run this business better than you and Jacob put together. But Father would never consider that, simply because I'm a woman.”

Peter knew it was true, both that Naomi was capable of running the business and that his father would never have allowed her to do it, even if Naomi had not turned against him. He actually felt a twinge of sympathy for his sister then, but it didn't last. She'd gone too far; she had destroyed any trace of the brotherly love he had once felt for her.

“I know what it's like to want to be something you're not,” he said softly. “To want to be well when you're sick all the time. To want to be strong and courageous when you're always afraid. But I'm learning to be content with what I have and with what I am. That's a lesson I don't think you'll ever learn, Naomi.”

He limped toward the door. “I want you to leave now,” he said. “You're not welcome here.”

Naomi stared at him and started to speak, then she backed away and walked out of the office. Peter's voice was clear and strong as he called after her, “And find another way to get back to Rome. You're not taking the
Mercury
.”

When she left, Peter sat down at the desk and sighed deeply. He was shaken from the unexpected encounter with his sister, but gratified that he had stood up to her. He didn't know what Naomi would do now, but Peter vowed that if she tried to claim their father's estate, he would battle her with everything in him.

37

JACOB RAN OUT OF THE COMMANDER'S OFFICE and through the camp. When he reached the southern slope, he started scrambling up the mountain as fast as he could. He had to stop a couple of times to wipe tears from his eyes, so he could see his way. His thoughts were a dark jumble, his heart burned in his chest, and he could barely get his breath—but it was more from anger than exertion.

As he climbed, Jacob thought about everything and everyone he had lost. His mother. His father. And now his sister.

“I've lost too much,” he shouted up the mountain. “Do You hear me, God? It's too much!”

Near the top of the mountain, Jacob looked up and saw a patch of brilliant color moving in the area of the cave. It was a woman. A woman in a bright blue tunic. He suddenly remembered Naomi wearing a tunic that same color one day. He'd called it peacock blue because she had been strutting around, proudly showing off the new dress.

Naomi? Here? It couldn't be . . . could it?

He started running, then had to catch himself to keep from falling down the mountain.

“Did you hear that?” Rebecca asked.

John had just joined her outside the cave to enjoy the sunshine. “Hear what?” he said.

“I thought I heard someone shouting.”

Rebecca hadn't slept well from the anticipation of being alone on the mountain with John. Marcellus would be gone in a day or two, and just knowing he would not be there to help anymore had left her jittery and highly alert to strange or unusual sounds.

Nervous, she scanned the hillside from right to left and back again, and finally saw a head pop over the horizon.

Then everything happened at once.

“I knew it! I knew it!” John shouted. “Oh, heaven be praised.”

John recognized Jacob first. But then he'd been expecting someone to arrive, or something to happen—some avenue of escape; Rebecca hadn't. And she couldn't believe her brother was really there until he wrapped his arms around her. Then she burst into tears.

“Rebecca!” Jacob didn't just hug her. He clung to her and wept.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” she said brokenly.

It was a long time before either one of them could speak again. “When I first saw you,” Jacob finally said, “I thought you were Naomi.”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

“They told me you were dead—it's in the camp records. That's why I was so shocked to see you.” He tugged on the skirt of the blue tunic she was wearing. “And isn't this Naomi's?”

“Oh . . . yes.”

“But how did you get it?”

“The church in Ephesus sent supplies and clothing for the prisoners; this tunic was one of the items. Naomi must have grown tired of it—after all, she had probably worn it two or three times.” Rebecca laughed then, her joy spilling over with her tears. The brother she thought had been lost to her forever had returned.

Laughing and crying at the same time, Jacob turned to the Apostle and lifted him off the ground in a hug.

“You have arms like a vise,” John said when Jacob finally released him. “I think you squeezed the life out of me. Of course, that wouldn't take much!” With John's raspy laugh echoing off the rocks, the three of them hugged each other again.

“Oh, Jacob. I have so much to tell you.” Rebecca realized that her brother did not even know she'd had a baby. The overwhelming joy and relief she had felt at Jacob's unexpected arrival began to ebb, and her previous apprehension resurfaced. How would Jacob react to the news? “But first,” she said quickly, “you have to tell us how you got here—why you came back.”

“He came back to rescue us, I can tell you that,” John said emphatically.

Jacob briefly recounted the amazing story of the admiral and the edict of liberation. “I guess that was the whole purpose of my being transferred to the
Jupiter
,” he concluded. “So I would eventually encounter someone who could help end this nightmare.”

John nodded as Jacob talked about discovering God's purpose. “I had the most astounding vision,” he said, “sitting right there in the cave. It was my purpose for being here. Jesus showed me the things that are going to happen from now until He returns, then He told me to write it all down and take it to the churches.”

John became animated, and he started to launch into an explanation of the revelation. Then he suddenly stopped. “Why am I rambling . . . I can tell you all about it later.” Making a broad sweep with his arm, John gestured to the rocky hillside. “If the good Lord let me survive this, He'll let me live long enough to talk about it.”

Jacob laughed again, then said, “I have a ship waiting in the harbor. If we hurry, we can sail before sunset. The more distance we put between us and Devil's Island by nightfall, the better . . .”

His voice trailed off as Marcellus came out of the cave holding the baby. Jacob's mouth fell open, and he looked from Marcellus to Rebecca and back. It was a moment before he could speak. “Yours?” he asked her.

“Yes, he's two months—”

“Did
he
do this to you?” Jacob's voice had an ominous edge as he took a step toward the medical officer.

“No!” Rebecca hurried to move between them. “Not Marcellus.”

“Then who?” Jacob whirled to face Rebecca, his dark eyes unnerving in their intensity. “Who's the father?”

“Can't we talk about this later?” Rebecca thought her brother looked mad enough to kill, and it frightened her. If Jacob went after Damian . . . no! She wouldn't let him. If anything happened to Jacob now, she couldn't stand it; Rebecca had just gotten her brother back, and she wasn't losing him again.

“Later?” Jacob grabbed Rebecca and placed a huge hand on each of her arms, almost lifting her off the ground. His grip was firm, and his voice demanding. “You tell me who did this to you, and you tell me now!”

Rebecca began to shake. Jacob had never spoken a harsh word to her before. He had teased and tormented her like a typical older brother, but he had never been angry with her.

“Let her go!” John shouted. “Don't punish Rebecca just because you can't get your hands on the man who raped her.”

At the word
raped
, Jacob lowered his hands and quickly stepped away. He closed his eyes and dropped his head, an anguished look wrenching his face.

Marcellus comforted the baby, who had started to cry.

Then Jacob looked up at Rebecca and repeated his question in a gentler voice. “Are you going to tell me who did this to you?”

“Not until you promise me that you won't go off and do something crazy, something that will only get you hurt.”

“I'm not promising anything.”

“Then I'm not telling.” Rebecca turned and walked back to the cave.

When she went inside and sat down, she was still trembling. Jacob had made her think about things she had buried deep inside. Since Victor had been born, she almost never thought about the rape; she was able to look at her son and see only his innocence, not the evil nature of his father. But now the memories of that horrible night flashed before her eyes, and Rebecca felt nauseated. Her shame, her hatred for Damian, and her desire to see him punished for the unspeakable thing he had done were far outweighed by her fear that Damian would destroy her brother or her son if Jacob tried to retaliate.

Marcellus followed Rebecca into the cave and placed the baby in the crib he'd pieced together from scraps. He sat silently beside her as they listened to John and Jacob shouting outside.

When she heard Jacob utter a piercing, primal scream, Rebecca knew that John had either told him, or that Jacob had guessed that it was Damian who had fathered her child.

“I'll kill him!” Jacob roared. “If it's the last thing I do, I'll find him and kill him.”

“No, you won't!” John shouted back.

The two of them argued, with Jacob declaring that under the law of Moses he had the right to hunt Damian down and take justice into his own hands. “I'm the avenger of blood!” he yelled. “It's my duty.”

John countered that vengeance belonged to the Lord, and
He
would mete out justice. “If you take up the sword, you'll die by the sword. That's what Jesus told us.”

Rebecca tried not to listen, tried not to think. But she couldn't help thinking about it, and as she did, a new emotion rose and choked out her fear. Suddenly she was angry—angrier than she had ever been in her life—and she couldn't control it.

Fury propelled her to her feet, and she stormed outside to confront Jacob. “You're dead-set on seeking revenge,” she yelled at him, “but did it ever occur to you that this wouldn't have happened to me at all if you'd been here?”

Rebecca raised both hands to Jacob's chest and shoved him as hard as she could. Caught off guard, he stumbled backward.

“You weren't here when I needed you. And why weren't you here to protect me? Because you just had to get back at Damian. You're the one who threw the rock and got yourself shipped out of here. You're the one who left me all alone.”

“Rebecca—”

“I'm not finished.” She shoved him again, and when Jacob grabbed her arms to stop her, she shook his hands off. Rebecca could tell from his expression that she had struck a nerve, but she had not finished giving vent to her anger.

“It's bad enough this baby will have to grow up without a father,” she said, “but I won't let him grow up without the rest of his family, especially you. Do you hear me, Jacob? I've been through one year of hell on earth without you here, and you're not going to leave me to raise a child by myself. You're going to be there for me this time, aren't you?”

Jacob looked stricken. He clamped and unclamped his jaw. “I'm sorry I wasn't here for you,” he said finally. “But I'm here now.”

Rebecca used the back of her hand to wipe away a tear of frustration. She had probably wasted her breath; she knew Jacob might still go after Damian if he had the opportunity. But at least she had let her brother know how she felt.

“Yes, you're here now,” John said. “And we're grateful.”

Marcellus had reappeared during Rebecca's outburst, and he spoke now. “I'll go on back to the camp, but I'll come to the dock and see you off when you sail. You won't be needing me to take Victor after all . . .” He briefly looked back at the cave and then at Rebecca. “He's asleep in the crib.”

“Come with us,” John urged. “You don't have to wait for the supply ship now.”

Jacob flashed a startled look at the Apostle, and Marcellus protested awkwardly. “No, that's all right. The supply ship will be here tomorrow or the next day.”

“Nonsense. You'll come with us.” John explained to Jacob that the medical officer was now a believer. “His army stint is up, and Marcellus was planning to take the baby to Peter in Ephesus and then deliver my letter to the churches.”

“If it hadn't been for Marcellus,” Rebecca said, “we would have died here. He's been like a father to me—” She stopped suddenly, a lump rising in her throat. “Father . . . Jacob, have you seen him? Do you have any news?”

Jacob's eyes grew dark with an unspoken pain, and Rebecca knew: her father was dead. One more grief to absorb. One more loss to endure.

“I'll tell you everything as soon as we sail,” Jacob said. “It's getting late, and we should leave.” He turned to Marcellus. “Come with us,” he said. “You're part of the family now.”