Carbon-14: The Shroud of Turin (An Amari Johnston Novel)

by Williams, R. A.

  “That’s my dad,” she said to herself. He’d promised he would have a patrol car around her house at night. He must have a couple of plain clothes officers watching her too.

  She got in and flipped on the lights, casting her high beam into the direction of the unmarked police car. A Mercedes symbol jutted from the hood. That was no police car. Cops don’t drive foreign luxury cars. And she had a feeling those guys weren’t local. Maybe she was paranoid, but she’d take the back way home tonight. She cranked the car, backed quickly out of her spot, and drove toward the strip mall, taking the side exit out and into the adjacent neighborhood. She slowed to see if they followed. They didn’t. They were probably lost, looking at a street map or something.

  ****

  Amari pulled her car into Kevin’s apartment complex and parked next to his car. It was nine o’clock in the morning and they had a long drive ahead of them.

  She got out of her car and met him on the sidewalk. “Ready for this?” she asked and hugged herself over her down coat to stay warm. Fog blew like smoke from her mouth when she breathed.

  “Is that a herringbone braid in your hair? Like the Shroud?”

  “You’re very observant. I told you, I can’t get that thing out of my head.”

  “Or your hair.”

  “It’s for good luck. So are you ready?”

  “All set. Got my suitcase packed and confirmed the appointment time with Jeffery up in Los Alamos.”

  “These are the actual tape samples STURP took in 1978?”

  “Not all of the tapes, but enough for us to see if there was cotton toward the center of the Shroud. If there isn’t, then we know the samples they took for the carbon date are anomalous. You know, some of these tape samples have actual blood on them.”

  Amari felt a sense of awe. To think she was about to be in the same room with the blood of Christ himself—and look at it under the microscope. How many people could claim such an honor? “That’s amazing, Kevin. I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

  “It’s all in who you know. Like I said, Jeffery’s coworker was on STURP. Maybe we can meet him too.”

  “That would be awesome. Whose car are we taking?”

  “Let’s see, mine’s an ’86 Honda Accord and yours is a 78 Camaro that keeps going into the shop. Mine’s still under warranty.”

  “Mine will get us there faster.”

  “Mine will get us there,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  “Good point. I’ll get my overnight bag.” She retrieved her bag, tossed it onto his back seat, and met him at the front of the car.

  He spread a road map out onto the hood. “You want to go the shorter way or the scenic route?”

  “How long is the scenic route?”

  “If my math’s right, if we take highway 60 through the mountains, it will take about nine hours. If we take Interstate 10 and cut up to Albuquerque on I-25, we’ll save about an hour.”

  “The meeting’s not until tomorrow. An hour’s nothing. Let’s take the scenic route. I’ve never been up that way.”

  “Me neither. I was hoping you’d say that.”

  He moved to his car door, but stopped and started to pat down his pockets first. “Crap, forgot my ChapStick. It’s so dry out here I spend a fortune on lotion and lip balm.”

  “You can have some of mine,” she said and puckered her lips playfully. She didn’t think he’d fall for it, but it was worth it to see his reaction, just to see if the thought even remotely crossed his mind.

  He was oblivious to the hint. “No, I’ll get mine,” he said instead of kissing her. He started for his apartment, then stopped. “You know what? I just remembered I lost mine to the dryer. If you see wet looking smudges all over my shirt, you know why. Is the offer still good?” he asked and held out his hand.

  “Sure,” she said and handed him the ChapStick.

  He applied it to his lips and handed it back. At least he wasn’t afraid of her girl germs. She was making progress, but logic still told her to put it out of her head. If he wasn’t a Christian, there would only be trouble in the future. Still, she felt what she felt and she couldn’t shake the feeling that God wanted them together. She just needed to give him more time, that’s all.

  They got into the car and he reached behind his seat. He pulled out his maroon, vinyl cassette case and cracked it open. “I’ve got tunes for the road. Radio reception’s going to be spotty. Why don’t we have us a U2-athon on the way? We can start on Boy and work our way up. I’ll plug in the Sony Discman and we can listen to Joshua Tree on CD—if the road’s not too bumpy and it doesn’t skip. We can do R.E.M and the Alarm on the way back.”

  “Sounds good to me,” she said, scanning the titles in his case. “Is that Debbie Gibson?”

  “I’m a complicated person. You know she wrote, recorded, and produced that album when she was seventeen?”

  “Tiffany? She didn’t write her own songs.”

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  “Just drive, Kevin. You don’t have to explain.”

  He cranked the ignition and backed out of the spot. “Like I said, I’m complicated. There’s other sides of me you don’t know about.”

  “I can see that. So did you have any trouble getting off?”

  “Put on your seatbelt. Better safe than sorry.”

  “That’s true,” she said and buckled herself in. “So did you?”

  “Nah, I think Rahal was glad to be rid of me for a couple of days. Jerry said he’d keep me posted on anything I missed.”

  They made their way through the Oro Valley and around the northern side of Santa Catalina Mountain. They chatted as U2 played quietly in the background. Kevin seemed more interested in her voice than Bono’s, but it still seemed purely platonic. She’d asked him if they were getting separate rooms in Los Alamos and the “of course” look dented his face.

  So if he had no romantic interest in her, then what was his secret agenda her dad had hinted about? She wished her dad hadn’t mentioned that. Kevin was the only good thing in her life right now and her dad had to point out the obvious. He was being terribly accommodating. He was even paying for both rooms. It’s bad enough she kept seeing that man from the library around every corner. She saw him every time she closed her eyes—those angry teeth snarling through the mouth hole of the ski mask. She hardly slept as it was, and now her dad questioned Kevin’s motives too. And then to tell her that Kevin had a criminal record of all things. It was juvenile court, so the records were sealed. Why couldn’t her dad keep his own mouth sealed?

  They kept driving, chatting, listening to U2, absorbing the scenery of Tonto National Forest. She managed to stay awake until the Fort Apache Indian reservation, but her eyes got too heavy. Sleep deprivation, the drone of the car, and the sameness of the scenery eventually lulled her into sleep, her head propped up against her down coat as a pillow.

  ****

  Something startled her awake. “I fell asleep.”

  “You totally missed The Joshua Tree.”

  “I heard it in my dreams.”

  “I bet you haven’t been sleeping good, have you? That guy from the library still bothering you?”

  “Jenny noticed it too. She says I was traumatized by what happened. That I’m only playing tough. She says repressing all my emotion keeps me awake at night.”

  “You were sleeping just then.”

  He was right, despite her dad’s warning, she still felt safe around him. That was the best sleep she’d had in a while. A smile worked its way into her face when she thought about his juvenile record. He must have gotten caught rolling someone’s house with toilet paper or something. Kevin, a criminal? That was hysterical.

  He glanced over at her. “What are you smiling about?”

  “You tell me.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing, Kevin. Are we there yet?” she said, changing the subject. When he wanted to talk about it, he would. Until then, she wasn’t going
to pry. “How much longer do we have?”

  “We should be half way there. We’re ten miles from Quemado. Once we get there, we turn north onto 36 and go about another 250 miles.”

  “We should have taken Interstate 10. We are literally in the middle of nowhere.”

  “It’s scenic nowhere, ain’t it?”

  “The mountains were pretty, but past Show Low there’s nothing. All I see is brown grass and scrubby little trees.”

  “Live and learn. We’ll take Interstate 10 on the way back to tomorrow.”

  “That’s a good idea. I don’t like this. We’re like the only car on the road.”

  “Not the only one. There’s an 18-wheeler coming toward us. And then there’s that idiot on my tail. He’s been on my bumper for the last five miles. I’m going sixty-five now. That’s ten miles over the limit,” he said, his eyes narrowed in anger at the rear-view mirror. “As soon as that truck goes by, I’ll slow down so he can pass.”

  She turned her head to look. It was an older model, navy-blue, Lincoln Town car. And it was right on their bumper. “That’s an old man’s car. They don’t usually speed,” she said and turned back to face the road.

  “Maybe they’re trying to get to the hospital. I’ll slow down so he can pass right after this truck goes by.”

  A blue object caught her eye. She snapped her head around. “That guy’s in the emergency lane. He’s right next to us!”

  “It that guy crazy?” he said and slowed down so he could pass.

  The Lincoln Town car slowed down too and stayed next to them. Her pulse hammered hard and she recalled the guy from the library. Could that be him? She strained to see the driver. The window was tinted. All she saw was black glass.

  The car suddenly lunged left. It crashed into Kevin’s car, knocking it into the path of the fast approaching truck.

  “Kevin!” she screamed.

  White smoke billowed from the truck’s tires.

  He jerked the wheel left. The car swerved into the emergency lane and just missed the truck. He lost control. The car fishtailed in the dirt and came to a rest, a cloud of dust blocking their view.

  “You okay?” he asked in a panic. “That guy was trying to kill us!”

  “I think he was!” she cried back at him.

  The dust settled. They found themselves catty-corner to the road, the front of the car facing the highway. A dark car sat in the emergency lane. The 18-wheeler pulled over down the road.

  “Get behind the car!” Kevin demanded. He pulled a black revolver from under his seat.

  “You’ve got a gun!”

  “Don’t argue, just get behind the car!”

  She yanked open the door and clambered out. Kevin got out and ran around to meet her.

  “Get down!” he yelled. Using the car for cover, he crouched and cocked the revolver, aiming for the dark car.

  She stooped down behind the car. “I can’t believe you brought a gun!”

  “I’m from Tennessee!”

  “So?”

  “And I’m a Republican!”

  She peered over the edge of the car to get a view. “Kevin, that’s not the car.”

  “What do you mean, it’s not the car?”

  “The car that hit us was a Lincoln Town car. I know my cars, and that’s not it.” She cautiously stood and inspected the car more closely. Recognition dawned. It was the black Mercedes. Two men sat unmoving inside.

  “Then why are they just sitting there.” He tensed his grip on the gun. “Why don’t they come see if we need help?”

  “Maybe it’s because you have a gun pointed at them!”

  “I’m sorry, but when someone tries to turn us into road pizza, I get a little tense.”

  She noticed the truck driver walking toward them. Suddenly, the Mercedes spat dirt from its tires and sped away.

  He finally lowered his gun. “What was that about?”

  “I’ve seen that car before. I think they’ve been tailing us.”

  “That can’t be good.”

  “They’re not the ones that ran us off the road,” she reminded him.

  “No, but maybe they were about to finish the job.”

  “You guys all right?” the truck driver in jean overalls asked as he approached. “I called to police on my CB. You guys need an ambulance too?”

  “No,” she said. “Thank you. Thank you for stopping.”

  “And for calling the cops,” Kevin said.

  “Well, of course, I did,” the truck driver said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that guy was trying to kill you.”

  Kevin locked eyes with Amari. “I think he might be right.”

  Chapter 28

  Amari and Kevin gave their statements to the sheriff in Show Low. The truck driver gave a corroborating statement. Because Kevin’s car was drivable and met safety standards, the sheriff let them go on to Los Alamos with the assurance that the state police would follow up on the issue.

  They both sat in stunned silence a good portion of the way to Los Alamos. Was he thinking the same thing she was? Was somebody really trying to kill them over the Shroud? Was the man in the Town Car the same man as in the library? What about the Mercedes? Why were they following them? Amari had suggested they cut their losses and run back to the safety of Tucson, but Kevin wouldn’t hear it. He’d said they were on a mission and no fender-bender was going to change that.

  She cupped her face into her hands, forcing back the emotion. She couldn’t show weakness in front of Kevin—not while he appeared so strong. Didn’t it bother him that the both almost died? She wasn’t ready to die. She was just twenty-two. Her whole life was ahead of her. And so was his, but you’d never know he was worried by the way he acted, now that the adrenaline of almost getting killed had worn off.

  She glanced over at him. He sat there, face tensed with resolve. He seemed transformed, his goofy expression replaced with a courageous stare, his eyes squinting like Clint Eastwood. Maybe she wasn’t attracted so much to his corny jokes that made her laugh as much as she was drawn to his inner strength, his absolute confidence that made him seem so laid-back.

  How well did she really know him? Was there another side to him she’d yet to discover? He’d suggested there was. Still, she’d never expected he would carry a gun—but she was now glad he did. He didn’t seem the type to confront danger head on, but he certainly proved himself on the side of that road. He would have used that gun if he needed to. He would have given his life to save hers. And she was supposed to be the strong one. She was the cop’s daughter, she’d taken all the self-defense classes, yet he was the one telling her to get behind the car as he confronted the danger.

  “You know that guy was probably drunk,” he finally said. “Probably had nothing to do with that guy in the library.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I just believe, that’s all,” he said, eyes firmly fixed to the road ahead. “We’ll be all right, Amari, I promise.”

  ****

  They had stopped for dinner in Albuquerque and it was already night when they reached the Holiday Inn nearest to the Los Alamos lab. Kevin pulled his car under the awning by the front desk of the hotel. He got out and opened Amari’s door to let her out. The door stuck because of the damage, so he had to give it an extra hard yank.

  She got out and inspected the car with him. “It’s not that bad. I know a guy who can fix this pretty cheap.”

  “I got coverage. I’m not worried about the car. We better go check in,” he said and moved toward the entrance.

  She grabbed his hand.

  He stopped and studied her face. “You okay?”

  “You said you had reservations for two rooms?”

  “Of course.”

  She squeezed his hand tighter. “Kevin, please don’t get the wrong idea, but I don’t want to be alone tonight. Would you please stay with me? We can get separate beds.” She didn’t want him to think the wrong thing, but she told the truth. She didn’t want t
o be alone. Not after she nearly lost her life—again.

  He hesitated. “If it’ll make you feel better. It would save money.”

  “That’s right. We can put that money towards your insurance deductible.”

  “It’s kind of weird. I’ve never slept with a girl.”

  “I’m not going to sleep with you, Kevin, just next to you. On the other bed.”

  He stammered for words. “Oh, I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant. It’s okay. I just don’t want to be alone tonight. I think we’ll both sleep better after what happened today, don’t you think? There’s safety in numbers.”

  “When you put it that way, it makes a lot of sense. Jenny says I snore. Can you handle that?”

  “She says I snore too. Yes, I can handle that.”

  “Then it’s settled, I guess.”

  “And bring your gun inside too. Just in case.”

  ****

  After Amari showered, she put on her pajamas and robe, then sat on the edge of her bed and looked at Kevin. He was propped up with pillows against his headboard. “I’m so exhausted. I haven’t been able to sleep lately.”

  “Well, lie here and watch TV with me,” he said, pointing to her bed. “Cheers is about to come on. That’ll cheer you up.”

  She just stared at him.

  “Boy, you must be tired. Normally you pretend to like my jokes.”

  She laughed that time. He always found a way to make her laugh.

  “Here, lay down next to me then. I promise, I won’t try anything. I know we’re just friends.”

  Well, there he said it again. They were just friends. She pondered her next move for a moment, wondering if it was appropriate to share his bed, even if it was just for TV. But he did offer, so it would be rude to refuse. She tightened the sash around her waist and climbed onto bed next to him.

  “There you go,” he said and flipped the TV back on.

  A noisy commercial blared. She reached for the remote and pushed the mute button. “Kevin, I know we’re just friends . . . but . . . could you just hold me? Just for a minute? I’m so scared,” she said, water burning at her eyes. “We almost died today. Doesn’t that bother you?”