Found (Book #8 in the Vampire Journals) (6 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Sam sprinted through the alleys of Jerusalem, snarling, red with rage. He wanted to destroy, to tear apart everything in sight. As he ran past a row of vendors, he reached out and swiped their booths, knocking them over like dominoes. He bumped people deliberately, as hard as he could, sending them flying every which way. He was like a wrecking ball, out of control, hurling down the alley, knocking over everything in his way.

Chaos ensued; cries rose up. People began to take notice and started to flee, to jump out of his way. He was like a freight train of destruction.

The sun was driving him crazy. It beat down on his head like a living thing, filling him with more and more rage. He had never known what true rage was until now. He wanted to tear apart everyone and everything in sight. Nothing seemed to satisfy him.

He saw a tall, thin man and he dove for him, sinking his fangs into his neck. He did this in a split second, sucking out the blood, then hurried on, sinking his fangs into another person’s neck. He went from person to person, sinking his fangs and sucking the blood. He moved so fast, none of them had time to react. They all slumped to the floor, one after the other, and he left a trail in his wake. He was in a feeding frenzy, and he felt his body begin to swell with their blood. Still, it was not enough.

The sun was driving him to the brink of insanity. He needed shade, and he needed it fast. He spotted a large building in the distance, a formal, elaborate palace, built of limestone, with pillars and huge arched doors. Without thinking, he burst across the square and charged it, kicking open the doors.

It was cooler in here, and finally, Sam could breathe again. Just getting the sun off his head made a difference. He was able to open his eyes, and slowly, they adjusted.

Staring back at Sam were the startled faces of dozens of people. Most sat inside small pools, individual baths, while others walked around, barefoot on the stone floor. They were all naked. That was when Sam realized: he was inside a bathhouse. A Roman bathhouse.

The ceilings were high and arched, letting in the light, and there were large arched columns all throughout. The floors were a shining marble, and small pools filled the vast room. People lazed about, apparently relaxing.

That is, until they saw Sam barge in. They quickly sat up, and their expressions morphed to shock, and fear.

Sam hated the sight of these people—these lazy, rich people, lounging about as if they hadn’t a care in the world. He would make them all pay. He threw his head back and roared.

Most of the crowd had the good sense to scurry out of there, to hurry to grab their towels and robes and to try to get out as soon as they could.

But they didn’t stand a chance. Sam hurled forward, lunged for the closest one, and sunk his teeth into her neck. He sucked the blood out and she collapsed to the ground and rolled into a bath, staining it red.

He did this again and again, jumping from one victim to the next, men and women alike. Soon the bathhouse filled with corpses, bodies floating everywhere, all the pools stained red.

There was a sudden crash at the door, and Sam wheeled to see what it was.

There, filling the doorway, were dozens of Roman soldiers. They wore official uniforms—short tunics, roman sandals, feathered helmets—and held shields and short swords. Several more held bows and arrows. They pulled them back and took aim at Sam.

“Stay where you are!” the leader yelled.

Sam snarled as he turned, rose to his full height, and began walking towards them.

The fire came. Dozens of arrows went hurling through the air, right for him. Sam could see them in slow motion, glistening, their silver arrows heading right for him.

But he was quicker than them, quicker even than their arrows. Before they could reach him, he was already high up in the air, leaping, flying, somersaulting over all of them. He easily covered the span of the entire room—forty feet—before the archers even relaxed their hands.

Sam came down feet first, kicking the center one right in the chest with such force that he knocked back the whole crowd, like a row of dominoes. A dozen soldiers went down.

Before the others could react, Sam reached over and snatched two swords out of two soldier’s hands. He spun and slashed in every direction.

His aim was perfect. He chopped off head after head, then turned and jabbed survivors right through the heart. He cut through the crowd like butter. Within seconds, dozens of soldiers slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Sam dropped to his knees and sank his fangs into each one’s heart, drinking and drinking. He knelt there, on all fours, hunched over like a beast, gorging himself with blood, still trying to fulfill his rage, which was limitless.

Sam finished, but was still not satisfied. He felt as if he needed to battle entire armies, to kill masses of humanity at once. He needed to gorge for weeks. And even then, it wouldn’t be enough.

“SAMSON!” came a strange female voice.

Sam immediately stopped, frozen in his tracks. He hadn’t heard that voice in centuries. It was a voice he had almost forgotten, and one he had never expected to hear again.

Only one person in this world had ever called him
Samson
.

It was the voice of his maker.

There, standing over him, looking down, a smile on her gorgeous face, was Sam’s first true love.

There, was Samantha.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Caleb and Caleb flew together in the clear, blue desert sky, heading North over the land of Israel, towards the sea. Below them the land was spread out, and Caitlin watched the landscape change as they went. There were huge swaths of desert, vast stretches of sunbaked dirt, littered with rocks, boulders, mountains and caves. There were hardly any people, except for the occasional shepherd, dressed from head to toe in white, a hood covering his head to protect from the sun, his flock trailing not too far behind.

But as they flew further and further north, the terrain began to change. Desert gave way to rolling hills, and the color began to change, too. The terrain went from a dry, dusty brown, to a vibrant green. Olive groves and vineyards dotted the landscape. But still, there were few people to be found.

Caitlin thought back to her discovery in Nazareth. Inside that well, she had been shocked to find a single, precious object, which she now clutched in her hand: a golden star of David, the size of her palm. Etched across it, in a small ancient script, was a single word:
Capernaum.

It had been clear to them both that it was a message, telling them where to go next.
But why Capernaum?
Caitlin wondered.

She knew from Caleb that Jesus had spent time there. Did that mean he would be awaiting them there? And would her father be there, too? And, she dared to hope, Scarlet?

Caitlin and Caleb flew as fast as they could. As they went, these thoughts raced and raced through her mind, and she tried to change her focus. She would be there soon enough, and would find out for herself.

So, instead, she scrutinized the landscape beneath her. She was amazed at how under-populated Israel was in this time. She was surprised to even fly over an occasional house, since the dwellings were so spread out, so far and few between. This was still a rural, empty land. The only cities she had seen were more like towns, and even these were primitive, with nearly all the buildings a simple one or two stories, and built of stone. She hadn’t seen any paved roads to speak of.

As they flew, Caleb swooped beside her and reached out for her hand, and Caitlin took his. It felt good to feel his touch. She couldn’t help but wonder, for the millionth time, why they’d landed in this time and place. So far back. So distant. So different from Scotland, from everything she knew.

She felt deep down that this would be the final stop in her journey.
Here.
Israel. It was such a powerful place and time, she could feel the energy radiating off of everything. Everything felt spiritually charged to her, as if she were walking and living and breathing inside a giant energy field. She knew that something momentous was awaiting her. But she didn’t know what. Was her Dad really here? Would she ever find him? It was so frustrating to her. She had all four keys. He should be here, she thought, waiting for her. Why did she have to continue to search like this?

Even more pressing in her mind were thoughts of Scarlet. She peered down below at every place they passed, looking for any sign of her, of Ruth. She needed to know if she was back in this time and place. For a moment she wondered if she hadn’t made it—but she quickly put that our of her mind, refusing to allow herself to go to such a dark place. She couldn’t bear the thought of a life without Scarlet. If she learned that Scarlet were truly gone, she didn’t know if she’d have the strength to carry on.

Caitlin felt the Star of David burning in her hand, and thought again of where they were going. She wished she knew more about the life of Jesus; she wished she had read the Bible more carefully growing up. Once again, she chided herself for not paying attention. She tried to remember, but all she really knew were the basics: Jesus had lived in four places: Bethlehem, Nazareth, Capernaum, and Jerusalem. They had just left Nazareth, and were on the way to Capernaum now.

She couldn’t help but wonder if they were on a treasure hunt, following in his footsteps, if maybe he held some clue, or if one of his followers held a clue as to where her Dad was, where the shield was. She wondered again how they could be connected. She thought of all the churches and monasteries she had visited throughout all the centuries, and felt there was a connection. But she wasn’t sure what.

The only thing she knew about Capernaum was that it was supposed to be a small, humble fishing village in the Galilee, along the northwestern coast of Israel. But they hadn’t passed any towns for hours—in fact there had hardly even been a soul in sight—and she had seen no sign of any water—much less a sea.

Then, just as she was thinking it, they flew over a mountaintop and as they crossed its peak, the other side of the valley opened up before her, and took her breath away. There, stretching forever, was a shining sea. It was a deeper blue than she had ever seen, and it positively sparkled in the sunlight, looking like a treasure chest. Bordering it was a magnificent shore of white sand, and the waves crashed against it, as far as the eye could see.

Caitlin felt a thrill of excitement. They were flying in the right direction. If they stayed along the shoreline, it should take them to Capernaum.

“There,” came Caleb’s voice.

She followed his finger, squinting into the horizon, and could just barely make it out: in the distance sat a small village. It was hardly a city, hardly even a town. There were maybe two dozen homes, along with a large structure, nestled against the shoreline. As they got closer, Caitlin squinted, examining it, but she could hardly see anyone: only a few villagers walked the streets. She wondered if it was because of the midday sun, or because it was uninhabited. The place looked deserted.

Caitlin looked down for any sign of Jesus himself, but she saw none. More importantly, she did not sense it. If what Caleb said was true, she would sense his energy from far off. But she didn’t sense any unusual energy. Once again, she started to wonder if they were in the right time and place. Maybe that man was wrong: maybe Jesus had died years before. Or maybe he wasn’t even born yet.

Caleb suddenly dove down, towards the village, and Caitlin followed. They found an inconspicuous place to land, outside the village wall, in a grove of olive trees. Then they walked through the town gate

They walked through the small, dusty village, and it was hot in here, everything basking in the sun. The few villagers who ambled about barely seemed to notice them; they seemed only intent on seeking shade, on fanning themselves. One old lady walked to the town well, raised a large spoon to her hand, and drank, then reached up and wiped sweat from her brow.

As they traversed the small streets, the place seemed utterly deserted. Caitlin scanned for any sign, anything, that might point to a clue, to any sign of Jesus, or her father, or the shield, or of Scarlet—but found nothing.

She turned to Caleb.

“Now what?” she asked.

Caleb looked back blankly. He seemed as at a loss as she was.

Caitlin turned, surveying the village walls, the humble architecture, and as she looked through the town, she noticed a narrow, well-worn pathway, leading down to the ocean. As she followed its trail, through a town gate, in the distance, she saw the glimmer of the ocean.

She nudged Caleb, and he saw it, too, and followed her as she walked out the town, towards the shore.

As they neared the shoreline, Caitlin saw three small, brightly-colored fishing boats, weathered, half-beached on the sand, bobbing in the waves. In one sat a fisherman, and standing beside the other two, ankle deep in the ocean, were two more fishermen. They were older men, with gray hair and matching beards, faces as weathered as their boats, suntanned, deeply lined. They wore white robes and white hoods to block out the sun.

As Caitlin watched, two of them hoisted a fishing net and dragged it through slowly the waves. They pulled at it, fighting the waves, and a small boy jumped out of one of the boats and ran to the net, helping them pull it in. As it reached the shore, Caitlin saw they had caught dozens of fish, squirming and flopping. The boy practically squealed in delight, while the old men were somber.

Caitlin and Caleb had snuck up on them so quietly—especially with the sound of the crashing waves—that they still didn’t know they were there. Caitlin cleared her throat so as not to startle them.

They all immediately wheeled and looked her way. She could see the surprise in their eyes. She didn’t blame them: they must have been a shocking sight, the two of them, dressed in all black from head to toe, in modern, leather, battle gear. They must have looked as if they dropped straight down from the sky.

“We are sorry to bother you,” Caitlin began, “but are we in Capernaum?” she asked the nearest fellow.

He looked from her to Caleb, then back to her. He slowly nodded back.

“We are looking for someone,” Caitlin continued.

“And who might that be?” the other fisherman asked.

Caitlin was about to say “my Dad,” but then stopped herself, realizing that wouldn’t do any good. How would she describe him anyway? She didn’t even know who he was, or what he looked like.

So, instead, she said the only person who came to mind, the only person they might recognize: “Jesus.”

She half expected them to mock her, to laugh at her, to look at her as if she were crazy. Or, alternately, to have no idea who Jesus was.

But to her surprise, they didn’t seem surprised by her question. They looked like they took her seriously.

“He left two weeks ago,” one of them said.

Caitlin’s heart skipped a beat. So. It was true. He was really alive. They were really in his time. And he had really been here, to this village.

“And all his followers with him,” said the other. “Only the old folks like us and children stayed behind.”

“So he’s real?” Caitlin asked, in shock. She could still hardly believe it; it was almost too much to comprehend.

The boy stepped up, walking close to Caitlin.

“He fixed my grandpa’s hand,” the boy said. “Look at it. He was a leper. Now he’s healed. Show her, grandpa,” the boy said.

The old man slowly turned and pulled back his sleeve. His hand looked perfectly normal. In fact, as Caitlin looked closely, she saw his hand actually looked much younger than the other. It was uncanny. He had the hand of an 18-year-old boy. Pink, rosy and healthy—as if he’d been given a new hand.

Caitlin couldn’t believe it. Jesus was real. He really healed people.

Caitlin knew something about healing people. She thought back to her own powers, to the time when she healed Scarlet. The thought made Caitlin’s heart break, made her miss her more than ever. She knew that healing was real, and that healers were real. And she had no doubt that Jesus was a great healer.

But seeing this man’s hand, this man who was once a leper, perfectly healed, sent a chill up her spine. It brought it all home. For the first time, she had hope that she might really find him, and really find her Dad, and the Shield. And that they might lead her to Scarlet.

“Do you know where he went?” Caleb asked.

“Jerusalem, is what we hear,” yelled out one of the other fishermen, over the sound of the crashing waves.

Jerusalem
, Caitlin thought. It felt so far away. They had flown all the way up here, to Capernaum. And now, it was feeling like a wild goose chase. After all that, they would have to turn around and leave empty-handed.

But she could feel the Star of David burning in her hand, and she felt certain that there had to be a reason they were sent to Capernaum. She felt there was something more, something they needed to find.

“One of his disciples is still here,” a fishermen said. “Paul. You can ask him. He might know exactly where they’re going.”

“Where is he?” Caitlin asked

“Where they all spent their time. The old synagogue,” the man said. He turned and pointed back over his shoulder with his thumb.