Dark Resurrection

by Frederick Preston

  * * *

  As more townspeople began to disappear, rumors began to circulate in southern Galilee of the vampire attacks in Jerusalem. The perpetrator was said to be none other than the risen Jesus of Nazareth, also known as Jesus Christ, and that possibly he had made his way to his hometown, preying upon those living there. In time, this news made its way to Jerusalem, the authorities there looking to Nazareth as the new feeding ground of Jesus, the vampire. Mary instinctively sensed this, and voiced these concerns one night while they were preying on highwaymen outside town.

  “I talked with your father this evening,” she began after they had finished their version of the evening meal.

  “About what?” asked Jesus, preparing to dispose of the bodies.

  “I told him I was beginning to feel uneasy, with most of the folks in town now dead thanks to us.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t take a scholar to figure out why, and your father told me he’d heard rumors that the new procurator Marcellus is sending soldiers here to track us,” said Mary, Jesus heaving two corpses into a ravine.

  “So?”

  “So we’d best be moving on, unless you’ve discovered some way to walk about in the sun,” she advised, several fat jackals beginning to feast on the bodies, sinew tearing and bones cracking in their powerful jaws.

  “I don’t think we have to leave yet,” said Jesus as they headed to the house, “I’m not finished here and we can’t run away all the time.”

  “Your father said King Herod Antipas might be getting involved in the investigation too.”

  “Big deal, he’s nothing but a depraved, drunken asshole.”

  “Jesus, what of your parents?” asked Mary, turning to look at him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know very well what I mean, if Marcellus is sending soldiers, they’ll probably just kill your folks and ask questions later.”

  “No they won’t, you and I will stop them,” said Jesus, not concerned at all.

  “How?”

  “Like this,” Jesus replied, assuming chiropteric form.

  The Magdalene, believing she understood, also transformed, both heading south toward Jerusalem. Flying over the highway, about thirty miles south of Nazareth the couple spied their quarry; a small contingent of Roman soldiers encamped by the road.

  Assuming human form a few hundred yards from the encampment, Mary whispered, “We’re going to kill them all, right?”

  “Wrong,” said Jesus.

  “What then?”

  “I’ll lead them to believe they came to Nazareth, found nothing and are returning from whence they came.”

  “What if there are ones who can’t be entranced?” asked Mary, having encountered such an individual recently, preparing for the worst and hoping the coming encounter would be as easy as her love thought.

  “Don’t worry woman, we’ll simply kill any like them.”

  Strolling to the encampment, Jesus spied the sentinel.

  “Who goes there?” he barked, issuing a challenge that had and would always echo in a soldier’s camp.

  Jesus walked up and answered in Latin, “My name is James, a Samaritan trader from Bethlehem. This woman and I are travelers and are hungry. I was wondering if you might have food to spare. We are not beggars, and have money to pay your commander for any sustenance he can provide.”

  “Wait here, I’ll ask Commander Valerian,” said the sentinel.

  “Thank you,” Jesus replied as he turned and left.

  “What do you intend to do, we can’t eat, at least not the way these people do, it’ll make us sick,” said Mary, recalling an evening when she had tried to eat a pomegranate. One of her favorite foods when alive, she had violently choked on the fruit and spat it out in seconds.

  “Quiet woman, just watch, you’re not the only one among us who is cunning.”

  “The commander says to come to our tent,” said the sentinel, walking back to them.

  “Thank you friend,” Jesus replied as they were led to the tent. Sixteen soldiers were inside finishing their meals, two contubernia with the exception of the sentinel, and Jesus nodded in greeting to the commander.

  “We have hot venison stew, bread, cheese, olives and wine,” offered Valerian with his hand out, “Ten sestertii or a finger of salt will cover it for both of you.”

  “Thank you,” said Jesus, entrancing him and the others within a second.

  Dropping coins in the commander’s open palm, Jesus waved a hand, motioning for him to put the coins in his money belt. Looking to all of them, he intoned in his vampire voice, “Verily I say, you are returning from Nazareth and found no evidence that Jesus, also called the Christ, was ever there. Further, the deaths you were told of are from a plague, and the commander will advise the procurator that everyone should avoid Nazareth until it passes. Do you understand?”

  Each nodded, zombielike, before the Christ, as Mary beheld the powerful vampire using his incredible talent for hypnosis. She also found she was beginning to easily comprehend much of what was being said. Standing before the stupefied group, Jesus advised her in Aramaic, “Retrieve the sentinel; I’ll tell him the same story.”

  “Right, and watch your voice,” she answered, bringing him before Jesus moments later.

  Sending the sentinel back to his post, Jesus said in his disguised voice, “Quickly Mary, fill two bowls, empty them in the pot, dirty a pair of spoons and place them before us. Then fill two cups with wine, bring them here and have a seat.”

  She did as told, sat down beside Jesus and observed, “I thought there would be at least one who couldn’t be entranced.”

  “Folks like that are rather rare.”

  “Can we drink this wine?” she asked, lifting the cup and sniffing at it cautiously.

  “Yes, I discovered that the night I killed Pilate. I’ve always enjoyed wine, so I tasted some in a goblet at his home. Finding it satisfactory, I took the bottle back to the tomb and drank it before I rested.”

  “I like wine too, that’s good to know.”

  “Be careful woman, we can still get drunk, I found that out too.”

  “Okay,” she replied, taking a sip.

  Jesus told a filthy joke to the soldiers, waved a hand and they reanimated, bursting into riotous laughter. “That was a delightful meal kind gentlemen, thank you,” said Jesus to the commander, finishing his cup of wine.

  “You tell good jokes, have another belt stranger,” a smiling Valerian replied, grabbing a wine bottle and refilling their cups to the brim.

  “Where are you headed?” asked an optiones, or junior officer, sitting across from Jesus.

  “North, we were going to stop at Nazareth for food but it is very late. It’s a good thing you gentlemen were here, as the inns and restaurants there are probably closed for the night.”

  “Stay away from Nazareth,” warned Valerian, “We’ve just returned from there, a plague has struck the town and it’s nearly deserted.”

  Jesus looked to Mary for a moment and replied, “Thank you for telling us commander, we were unaware of that.” Quickly finishing the second cup, he rose and said, “I’m sorry, but we must be on our way. The town of Gennesar is north of Nazareth and a friend, the Samaritan Mehomet, can put us up there.”

  “I know nothing of that town stranger, just remember to avoid Nazareth,” the commander replied, “Procurator Marcellus originally sent us there to look for vampires, but when we arrived there it was practically deserted.”

  “Vampires?” Jesus asked, a smile crossing his face.

  “It may sound ridiculous, but there was a guy named Jesus of Nazareth who was crucified in Jerusalem some months ago. Some crazies there and a nutty Greek physician are saying he resurrected as a vampire.” Pulling loose the collar of his leather armor, he added, “See this garlic he tied aro
und our necks? The goofy bastard claims it will protect us against vampire attacks.”

  “Really,” said Jesus, noting the innocuous cloves and offering his hand to the commander. “I’ve heard of this Jesus fellow, I suppose from what you tell me they believe he went to Nazareth in search of blood.”

  Valerian nodded, giving him a firm Roman handshake. “If you think that’s crazy, these are strange times, you should hear what’s going on in Rome these days.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Would you believe Tiberius is taxing the folks who run the brothels, you can’t even get laid without paying tribute to Caesar!”

  Jesus nodded and chuckled, “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, I guess,” as he and the Magdalene left the tent. They bid farewell to the sentinel, heading up the highway to Nazareth. Assuming chiropteric form further on, they flew to his parent’s home and walked in. It was past midnight, and they made their way to the secluded room in the rear.

  “That was incredible, you made them believe they had been here and left!” Mary exclaimed.

  “It was easy, but I know not how I accomplish it.”

  “Do you think such power may come from God?” she asked, sensing there was more to what had happened to her love than he was willing to admit.

  “Who knows,” said Jesus, not wanting to talk of it.

  “You sure have changed when it comes to religion.”

  “You’d better believe it,” Jesus replied, sitting down heavily in a chair.

  “So, I guess that takes care of our problem,” said Mary, lying down on their bed to relax.

  “What problem’s that?” Jesus asked, stroking his beard.

  “You got rid of the soldiers, so I guess that solves our problem.”

  “Only temporarily, they’ll be back, maybe not the same ones, but others will follow shortly if I read my Romans correctly.”

  “Really?”

  “They won’t be fooled that easily, at least not for long, sooner or later someone else will journey to Nazareth to verify their story.”

  “True,” said Mary, thinking of what could be done to protect not only themselves, but also his parents.

  Frowning, Jesus added, “I now believe you were right in what you said earlier. I’ve only bought us time, a few weeks or months at most; we and my folks will have to take off.”

  “To where?” asked Mary, surprised she would not have to argue with him.

  “I reckon we should head north toward Anatolia. There are several large cities and Roman outposts there, we can feed on criminals and lose ourselves in the population.”

  “Sounds good to me, but what of your folks?”

  “I imagine I’ll have to buy them a house when we get there; we have plenty of money.”

  “So, what was it I heard about garlic cloves?”

  “I don’t know, the commander told me some people believe if they carry garlic it will ward those like us off.”

  “Didn’t stop us did it?”

  “Not at all,” said Jesus, smiling.

  They spent the remainder of the night discussing the evening’s events, Jesus resolving that he would tell his father of the situation, and decided to advise his parents that they should prepare to leave Nazareth as quickly as possible for their own safety.