04 The Edge of Darkness

by Tim LaHaye

  Talon stepped forward and looked to the sky. He then opened the palm of his left hand and hit it twice with his right fist. The Arabs looked at one another in confusion.

  In the meantime, Moshe was crawling toward the rock outcropping. He was not more than twenty feet away from the safety of his car. It was agony as he dragged his wounded leg along. His hands were bleeding from pulling himself forward over small rocks and cacti.

  He was just reaching his hand up to the door handle when the first falcon gouged his claws into his neck. He felt the pressure of 200 pounds per inch deeply penetrate his flesh. Moshe rolled to his back, trying to strike the powerful bird away, but to no avail. The second falcon struck his exposed throat. A look of absolute panic came over his face as the sharp claws dug deep into his flesh again and again.

  Murphy heard a ringing sound. He leaned over and checked his alarm clock … 3:00 A.M.

  Who would be calling at this hour?

  “This is Murphy.”

  “Michael, this is Levi. I’ve got some terrible news.”

  Murphy was wide-awake now. When Levi sounded like this, something serious was going down.

  “What is it, Levi?”

  “It’s Moshe Pearlman. Some worker in the olive orchards around Ashdod found his body. If it hadn’t been for his wallet and car, no one would have been able to identify the body.”

  “I’m so sorry, Levi. I know he was one of your friends. Did he have a family?”

  “Yes. His wife and two daughters are devastated.”

  “What happened?”

  “Something completely ripped his face and throat apart. The doctors say that all the wounds look like the clawing and pecking of birds. There wasn’t much left of him, but they did find something else very strange. A bullet hole all the way through his right thigh. No one can figure out what happened. Someone brushed away all traces of footprints. There were only the car tracks of four different cars.”

  “It sounds like the work of Talon and his falcons. This is not the first time he’s turned them on humans.”

  “Michael, if Talon is involved, you know there’s something very important going on in Ashdod. It sounds like he might be after the same things you are. Do you still want to go to Ashdod?”

  “More than ever.”

  “Good! I want to join you, to avenge Moshe’s death. It would be my joy to turn those falcons on Talon.”

  “How soon can you work out the details?”

  “I don’t know. But with the death of Pearlman, I’ll put everything into high gear. Even putting on the pressure, it may take a couple of weeks.”

  “Then put on the pressure!” Murphy said. “Talon already appears to have a big head start.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  THE WEATHER FORECAST called for a bright and sunny day along the coast. It was just the kind of day that might draw Methuselah off of his estate near Myrtle Beach. Murphy guessed that he would go to the shores below Briarcliffe Acres.

  He was not sure when Methuselah might go to the beach, so he left early in the morning. He decided to take State Highway—40 from Raleigh toward New Hanover and Wilmington. There he would join Highway 17 to North Myrtle Beach.

  The trip was pleasant and he reflected upon the resort area he was driving to. Myrtle Beach had been named by Mrs. F. E. Burroughs, whose husband was the founder of the Burroughs & Collins Company. She called it Myrtle Beach because of the many wax myrtle trees growing wild along the shoreline. The building boom of the 1960s had brought an influx of people to the area. Many came to play golf in one of the over 120 courses that were scattered along the coast. Murphy wondered if Methuselah played golf or not.

  Probably not. It wouldn’t be exciting enough for him. He likes to see blood and guts, not a little white ball rolling into the water.

  Murphy arrived at the beach area near 9:00 A.M. He found a place to park, grabbed his backpack, and headed toward the beach. He thought that he might try the area near the Dunes Golf and Beach Club. It was not far from Methuselah’s estate.

  Very few people were on the beach.

  A little too early, he thought. More people will arrive when it gets a little warmer.

  The sky was crystal clear except for a few puffy clouds in the distance. A slight offshore breeze was blowing toward him. He sat down on the sand and watched the breakers. It had a very calming effect. It had been ages since he’d allowed himself time to just sit and take in the glory of God’s creation.

  A passing jogger with a dog caught Murphy’s attention and brought him back to the purpose of his trip. He consulted his watch. It was almost 10:00 A.M. He looked around the beach and noticed that a few more people had put out blankets and were sunning themselves. Murphy opened his backpack and took out a picture of Methuselah. It had been taken at a distance with a high-powered telephoto lens. Murphy thought he could make out his features well enough to identify him if he came to the beach.

  He put away the photo and took out a book and began to read. Might as well do something productive, Murphy thought.

  It wasn’t until 11:30 A.M. that Murphy saw something to indicate that Methuselah could be coming—two large men wearing Hawaiian shirts. They were sauntering along the beach, talking and stopping every now and then to look around. Murphy watched as one of them unhooked a two-way radio from his belt and spoke into it.

  It wasn’t long before he saw five other men strolling toward the beach. Two of them were carrying lawn chairs. One of them was older, with gray hair and a limp. Murphy whipped out the photograph and compared it with the man on the beach.

  It was Methuselah. There was no doubt about it.

  Murphy’s heart began to race. Now what would he do? How would he be able to get close enough to talk with him? He couldn’t believe that he was about to meet the mysterious Methuselah face-to-face … and on Murphy’s terms, not his.

  For a moment his attention was drawn away from Methuselah. He spotted two other men walking up and down the beach. Then Murphy had an idea.

  “Excuse me, do you work for the Dunes Golf and Beach Club?” asked Murphy.

  “Why, yes, I do,” said the young man with a big smile. “Would you like to order something? We take orders for drinks and meals at the club. We’ll bring them to you on the beach if you like.”

  “That’s swell. How much do they pay you to do this job?”

  The young man was caught a little off guard.

  “Why … they … they pay us ten dollars an hour and we can keep any tips we earn. It’s not a bad deal.”

  “No, on the contrary, it sounds great. How would you like to make a big tip?”

  “Sure, I’m up for that.”

  “How about two hundred dollars?”

  “What? Are you pulling my leg?”

  “No. I just want to borrow a uniform like the one you’re wearing for a couple of hours. There’s someone I would like to talk to on the beach and your uniform might make it a little easier.”

  “I know what you mean,” said the young man. He spoke in hushed tones. “I meet lots of good-looking young ladies this way. For two hundred dollars I can get you a uniform. Follow me.”

  Murphy could feel the adrenaline starting to pump as he walked toward Methuselah and his bodyguards. He was dressed in the Dunes Golf Club uniform and was carrying a small tray and an order pad.

  All of the bodyguards became alert as he approached. Two of them got out of their chairs and started to move toward him. Methuselah was engrossed in a book and not paying any attention. It was evident that he had total confidence in his men.

  “Hold it right there!” said one of the guards. He blocked Murphy while the other man came behind him and began to wand him for any metal weapons he might be carrying.

  Murphy looked at the men and smiled casually like it was an everyday occurrence.

  “Would you gentlemen like anything to eat or drink?”

  Murphy saw the other bodyguards nodding their heads up and down. He could also tell that they would
not order anything unless Methuselah ordered something. One of the guards spoke to him.

  “Mr. M., there’s a man here to take our order. Would you like something?”

  Methuselah lifted his head to look at the bodyguard. He didn’t even glance at Murphy standing about ten feet to his left.

  “Yes, I’ll have an iced tea and a tuna-melt sandwich.”

  Murphy was about to explode inside, his curiosity mingling with a great deal of anger. Methuselah had sicced a lion on him, almost killed him when he cut loose a cable in the Royal Gorge, and hired a host of professional killers to try to take him out. He hoped that Methuselah would not do much to him on a public beach.

  He found it impossible to restrain his impatience any longer. He spoke in a firm and loud voice.

  “How about some rattlesnakes for lunch?”

  At these words, the other bodyguards exploded out of their chairs. The two near Murphy grabbed him, and he was down on the sand in a matter of seconds.

  Methuselah was shocked, to say the least. What was one of Golf Club’s employees doing talking to him like that? It was outrageous. He would have the man fired at once.

  He rose from his chair and told the bodyguards to make Murphy stand up.

  “Did I hear you say ‘rattlesnakes for lunch’?” Methuselah asked with irritation.

  Murphy now stood face-to-face with Methuselah. Levi was right. Caught off guard, the old man did not recognize him.

  “You heard me right! Rattlesnakes for lunch. Just like you dumped on my head in the Reed Gold Mine!”

  It took Methuselah a moment to process what had just been said. Then he smiled and began to laugh in his high, cackling way.

  “Dr. Michael Murphy. My, my, my. Aren’t you the industrious one, finding me here. You’re more clever than I gave you credit for.”

  Murphy sensed the bodyguards’ confusion over Methuselah’s reaction.

  “You can let him go. I don’t think Dr. Murphy will do me any harm. You see, he believes in the Bible… that you should forgive those who trespass against you…. Turn the other cheek … and all of that stuff. Right, Dr. Murphy?”

  Murphy just stood there. He had long imagined what he would say if this day ever arrived, and now he found himself at a total loss for words.

  Methuselah motioned with his hand.

  “Please. Please, pull up a chair and sit down. After all the trouble you’ve gone to, you deserve a rest.”

  He then looked at his bodyguards.

  “It’s all right. You can move back. Dr. Murphy and I are just going to have a little chat.”

  Murphy sat down and looked closely at Methuselah for the first time. His weather-beaten face was lined with wrinkles. He looked like an unhappy man who had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “This is a surprise, Dr. Murphy. You must have done some heavy-duty investigation to find me.”

  “I have some friends.”

  Methuselah looked at Murphy contemplatively.

  “Ah, yes, your friend Levi Abrams, no doubt. He must have checked the airplane crash records. But how?”

  “You left a fingerprint.”

  “Impossible. I always wipe everything off or wear gloves.”

  “Except for one time. Even the best make mistakes.”

  “Pray tell me, where?”

  “In the Reed Gold Mine on the back of the signboard.”

  Methuselah began to cackle. “Of course. It must have been those infernal rattlesnakes. They distracted me and I forgot to wipe off the back of the board. Good job, Dr. Murphy. I always appreciate competence wherever I find it. I suspected you had the qualities I was looking for. I just needed to test you to be sure.”

  “Did I disappoint you?”

  “Oh, no. Far from it. You have been most entertaining, Dr. Murphy.”

  “Well, I’m not sure how to address you. Is it Methuselah or is it Markus Zasso?”

  Methuselah smiled again.

  “Mr. M. will do.”

  “It just doesn’t have the same ring. I think I’ll stick with Methuselah.”

  “Of course. Now, what’s on your mind? You’ve gone to a lot of effort to find me.”

  “What’s on my mind? Do you really have to ask? I can figure out how you know so much about the Bible. Your grandfather was a missionary and your father was an active Christian. But what’s with all the games, the riddles, the attempts on my life?”

  Methuselah nodded his head. “Fair enough. You have passed all the tests.”

  “Tests? Tests for what?”

  “The story starts back with the plane crash. As you know, my wife and children were killed in the crash. I myself barely survived. That is why I walk with a limp today. It took me months to regain my health but I could not regain my family. I went into a deep depression over my loss, and the depression turned into anger … and the anger into hatred. Hatred for the people who killed my family.”

  Murphy hung on every word.

  “I began to do my own investigation. I wanted to find out who was responsible for their deaths. I wanted revenge. Not just by killing them … I wanted to destroy everything they cherished before I took their lives.”

  Murphy detected the flash of rage in Methuselah’s eyes as he spoke. “Do you know who they are?”

  Methuselah paused for a moment and looked deep into Murphy’s eyes. “Yes, and they will pay” There was something cold and final in his words. “I know more about them and their goals for world conquest than they realize. I have someone on the inside who passes information on to me. I am going to thwart everything they are attempting to do, or die trying!”

  “Okay, you hate them. But what does that have to do with me? How do I fit into the picture?”

  “The archaeological artifacts I’ve told you about. They help to prove the truth of the Bible. These people would like to see the Bible destroyed and believers in Almighty God eliminated. I am simply using you to help prove them wrong.”

  “Then why all the games and threats to my life? Why not simply help me to find these artifacts?”

  “Two reasons, Dr. Murphy. One, you need to be battle-ready for these people. You have no idea how wicked and powerful they are. You need to be able to physically take care of yourself.”

  “And the second reason?”

  Methuselah began to cackle again in his irritating manner.

  “Call it boredom. You have added some much-needed excitement to my dreary days.”

  Methuselah’s warped logic indicated to Murphy that the old man had all but lost his grip on reality. He’d become so focused on revenge that it was slowly destroying him. His vendetta completely consumed his thoughts, and nothing else mattered.

  “You could have killed me several times!”

  “That would have been regrettable, Dr. Murphy. It would, however, have shown me that you weren’t the man for the job.”

  “A job I never exactly applied for!”

  “You’re wrong, Dr. Murphy. You did apply. With every riddle of mine that you solved and every trap that you wriggled your way out of. You could have refused. You could have turned back at any time. But instead, you persisted. I merely created the gauntlet,” he grinned. “It was you who decided to run it.”

  “So now what?” asked Murphy. “Who are these people you’re out to get? And just how do I fit in all of this?”

  Methuselah looked at his watch.

  “Well, it’s time for me to get out of the sun. I have passed my normal time limit. Thank you for your visit, Dr. Murphy. It was a most refreshing break in my ordinarily routine schedule. You never fail to entertain.”

  “Wait a minute!”

  Methuselah started to rise. With the merest of glances, his bodyguards came running.

  “Will two of you please escort Dr. Murphy back to his vehicle?”

  They nodded and two of the larger men stepped forward.

  “Oh, I suppose you’d better return that uniform first. It really doesn’t suit you.”


  Murphy had completely forgotten about the uniform. Small wonder.

  “Perhaps someday we can continue our conversation. I have pressing business in Italy. I hope that you will have a pleasant drive back to Raleigh.”

  With that, Methuselah turned and left with four bodyguards in tow. Murphy couldn’t believe what had just happened. It wasn’t anything like he had expected. He looked at the two silent bodyguards. They followed him back to the Golf Club.

  He desperately wanted to know more about these people Methuselah hated so. He had found out only enough to pique his curiosity. It was so typical of Methuselah to just walk away. It always had to be on his terms. He had to be in control.

  No doubt about it. Murphy was ticked off.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  MURPHY WAS SITTING at his desk when Shari came into the office with a preoccupied look on her face. He glanced at his watch. It was 8:30 A.M. She usually arrived before he did.

  “Rough night?”

  “What?”

  “I asked if you had a rough night.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it rough but it certainly was different.”

  Shari put on her lab coat slowly. She didn’t seem to be in her typical humorous mood. Murphy eased up on the jokes.

  “What happened?”

  “Well, for the past two days I’ve been a little paranoid. I’ve felt like someone’s been watching me and following me. It’s hard to describe. I haven’t actually caught anyone doing it but I have this eerie feeling.”

  “Do you think it might be Paul Wallach? Since he’s back in town, has he turned into a stalker?”

  Shari wrinkled her nose and frowned.

  “I don’t think so. He has his faults but I don’t think he would follow me around. He’d have nothing to gain by it. But that’s not all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Last night I was home alone in my apartment. I watched some TV and got ready for bed. I was not quite asleep when the phone rang. It was Paula Conklin from the church. She was crying. She told me that her father had just died from a heart attack. He was only fifty-seven. Her parents live in Portland and she couldn’t get a flight out until eleven o’clock this morning. I told her that I’d be right over. I know what it’s like to lose your father. I thought I might be able to comfort her.”