Cursed Days (Trilogy of the Chosen Book 3)

by J. M. LeDuc

  Seven came out of the cave, gun at all times pointed at Abe and picked up the discarded rifle. Brent spoke and Seven holstered his weapon and emptied the rifle of its ammunition.

  Brent waved Alana and the Bishop to join them. Once everyone was together, he asked Abe why he was still guarding the cave.

  “Just before Joachim went to talk to the false messenger he told me that if anything were to happen to him, the true envoy of the Ambassador would come and then return in a few days time. He told me to stand guard until he came and when he did to give him this verse: Isiah 46:11.”

  Brent looked over at Bishop Jessup, who started reciting. “From the east I summon a bird of prey; from a far-off land, a man to fulfill my purpose. What I have said, that will I bring about; what I have planned, that will I do. Isaiah 46:11.”

  As he spoke, an eagle circled over head and made such a ruckus that everyone looked to the sky. The eagle, wings spread wide, slowly descended and sat on top of the most eastern cave. “I think we have an answer to our question,” Alana said.

  “And what question would that be?” Brent asked.

  “I am looking at four openings to the caves in the hillside. The verse tells us which one we need to proceed through and the eagle’s presence verifies what I already knew.”

  “Which is?”

  “That you are a man unlike other men. You are a man, like David; a man after God’s own heart.”

  Brent did not answer, he just turned to address Abe. “You have completed your sworn duty. Go, and be with your family.”

  “Before I leave, I need to give you something, but to do so, I need my gun back.”

  Seven handed Abe his gun, and took a defensive posture, just in case. Abe removed a knife from the pocket of his trousers and unscrewed the butt end of the gun. Separating it into two halves, he removed a piece of paper. “It is very old, so be very careful when you unfold it.” He handed it to Brent.

  “What is it?” Brent asked.

  “I have never looked at it. I just know that this is one of the things that Joachim protected with his life.”

  Brent again thanked Abe for his service and shook his hand. There was a stillness and an uncomfortable quiet as the Covenant Team watched him descend the hillside and reenter his village.

  With him no longer visible, Brent handed the folded piece of paper to Alana. “You better open this.”

  She felt a sense of pride and belonging. She un-cocked her weapon and slid it into the waistband of her pants. Finding a flat rock, she laid down the parchment and began to unfold it. “This material is ancient. It is the same material that scrolls were made out of when and before Jesus walked this earth. It is very brittle and will crack if I try to open it.” She asked the Bishop to pass her backpack to her.

  Alana rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for, a small spray bottle filled with liquid.

  “What’s that?” Bishop Jessup asked.

  “It is a special mixture of chemicals that is designed to penetrate the parchment when applied.”

  Meticulously, she sprayed, waited for the liquid to absorb into the material and then gently unfolded it. This continued until the entire parchment was spread open. She then asked Brent to hold it by the corners while she again went into her pack. Alana took a piece of white, vinyl paper and peeled the edge of the backing from the top. She looked up at Brent. “I need you to gently turn it over and lay it face down on your lap.”

  Brent did as he was told and then watched as Alana matched up the edge of the parchment with the edge of the sticky side of the paper. Like a surgeon, she continued to peel the plastic off the paper matching it to the parchment. When she was finished she turned it back over and took a clear piece of plastic and did the same thing to the front. When the task was complete, she stood back to admire her work. She looked around at the others. “It is now safe to hold.”

  While the men were studying it, and talking amongst themselves, Alana said, “It is a line drawing of the tunnel system.” Stepping forward, she wedged herself between Brent and Seven who were holding the sketch between them. She pointed to different areas on the map and explained the different markings. “This circle, at the top left, represents the mouth of the cave. As the lines go lower, they tell us that we are descending into the earth’s surface. Here,” she said, pointing to a broad line, “the map is telling us that the tunnel is wide and open. Here, where the line is thin, it is telling us that the tunnel is narrow.”

  “What does this represent?” Brent asked while pointing to a broken line.

  “Ah,” Alana said. “I’m afraid that is the symbol for a crawl space.”

  “Define crawl space,” the Bishop said.

  “It is an area where we are going to have to either crawl on our hands and knees or an area where we are going to have to snake our way through.”

  “But that broken line is almost half of the drawing,” Bishop Jessup exclaimed.

  “I too have eyes, Bishop,” Alana said. “What is your point?”

  He threw up his arms in defeat. “I don’t have a point. I’m just stating the obvious, that’s all.”

  Placing his arm around Bishop Jessup’s shoulder, Seven said, “I’m afraid the padre is a bit claustrophobic.”

  “Well, no time like the present to face your fears,” Brent said. He looked at Alana and saw concern in her eyes. “What is it?”

  “Here, you will see a vertical line intersecting the horizontal. That tells us that the cave is blocked. There may be no way to get from one side to the other.”

  Brent started walking into the cave, “Then we’ll just have to make a way.” He handed the map to Alana. “You’ll take the lead and hold onto this.”

  She scooted up to the front and took the map from him. “Follow me, my brothers,” she said with confidence as she began the descent into the tunnel opening on the easternmost point of the hillside.

  Brent stopped. “Wait, I almost forgot.”

  CHAPTER 31

  The day after he left to Elephantine, Red met up with his new men in Cairo. The night before, he had killed the man who had been foolish enough to have been caught by the Ambassador.

  “I swear, Red, I told them nothing,” Oscar had begged.

  “Do you take me as some sort of a fool? Do you think I would believe that the Ambassador could not break a sniveling dog like you?” Before Oscar could answer, Red had put a round through his temple.

  “We’re leaving for Ethiopia tonight,” he told his new recruits. “Last night, I killed the last of my other men for embarrassing the Brotherhood. I hope the same fate does not fall on any of you.”

  The six new soldiers stood at attention and recited, as if on cue, “I am committed to the Brotherhood and will lay down my life for its sanctity.”

  “Good,” Red said. “Now, let’s celebrate. Within forty eight hours from now the Ark of the Covenant will be in our possession!”

  A roar from the men went up as he spoke. They all had given their entire lives for this day as had their fathers and their fathers before them.

  “Hey Red,” yelled one of the men. “What is the plan once we have the Ark? How do we move it from where it is now to its final home?”

  “Good questions and they’ll be answered in due time,” Red responded. “But for now, let’s drink to our near victory.” Red held up a mug of beer and his men followed his lead. “A toast,” he said, “to the Brotherhood and to all the sacrifices of generations past. May our fore-coming victory bring them peace and happiness.”

  The men roared their approval.

  The partying went on late into the night and the morning came quick.

  Looking in the mirror in his hotel room, Red’s eyes were so bloodshot, they burned. Twenty minutes later, Red was showered, and felt better thanks to a handful of aspirin. As he looked at himself in the mirror, the
scars on his torso reminded him of all the training he had gone through to make all this possible.

  At an early age, Omar saw Red’s potential and began his training. For the next eleven years, he underwent an enlightenment of mind, body and spirit. Omar explained to him that to be truly enlightened, he must possess the ability to be immune to pain. That’s when the whipping began. After each ‘pain training’ session, Red would be paraded around the elders and they in turn praised him for his bravery. It came to a point where Red enjoyed the lashing. He was proud of the scars left behind by the lash of the whip.

  An hour later, he and his men were in a Humvee making their way from Cairo to Aksum, Ethiopia. “The trip is going to take us about 29 hours, so sit back and get some rest, boys,” Red said. “We’ll switch off drivers every three hours. I want everybody fresh when we get there.”

  “Why don’t we fly?” asked one of his men.

  “Two reasons,” Red said. “One, though doubtful, the authorities may have our descriptions so we don’t want to put up any flags and two, we’re going to need the vehicle to carry the Ark out of there. Our flight will be waiting for us in the Sudan.”

  At one of the rest stops along the way, Red gave his men a little more detail on where they were going and what they could expect. “When we cross over into Ethiopia we’re going to head to a northern area called Aksum. There we’re going to find St. Mary’s of Zion Church. Under this church is a tunnel system that matches the tunnels that were originally built under the Solomon’s Temple. That’s where we’ll find the Ark.”

  Red squatted down and drew in the dirt. “The church will be fenced in and inside the area will be one old man, The Guardian of the Covenant.”

  “What makes him so different than any other person?” said one of the men.

  Red stopped drawing and looked at his men “The Guardian was raised since the age of seven to protect the Ark. He’s been taught rituals and prayers that make it possible for him to handle it and what’s inside.”

  “So, how are we supposed to be able to handle it?” another asked.

  “I’ve been raised since I was a child for that same purpose,” Red said. “Every generation had one who was trained to be the possessor of the Ark. Since no one knew when the other two Arks would present themselves, each generation had to be prepared.”

  “We’re just lucky enough to be the ones,” someone yelled.

  Hearing those words, Red stood up and slowly walked back to where the man was sitting. “Stand up, brother,” he said. Even before he had a chance to rise up out the chair, Red grabbed him by the neck and lifted him, not only out of his seat but right off the floor. Red stared into his eyes and through gritted teeth said, “We’re not lucky, we are chosen.”

  Words spoken, Red opened his hand. The man fell to the floor in a heap, gasping for air. “Lest, anyone forget,” Red exclaimed as he walked away, “The Brotherhood of Gaza in not a club and we are not lucky to be members. The Brotherhood is life. Ultimate power will be ours when the Arks are opened in accordance to what is written.” He looked back at his men. “And we, my brothers are The Chosen.”

  Just as they were to leave the rest stop, Red felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Figuring that it must be Omar, he quickly retrieved it and answered. “Yes, Omar?”

  “I’m right on your tail, you coward. I’m everywhere and I’m everybody.”

  Red’s face blanched white as sweat soaked his skin. He looked at his phone and saw that the number belonged to Oscar. That damn fool, he thought. How much information did he divulge?

  “Is everything okay?” asked the man in the seat next to him.

  “Yeah,” Red responded. “The elders just wanted to wish us luck.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Brent closed the phone, looked back and saw the smirk on Seven’s face. “Let’s move out. We have a long way to go and not a lot of time.”

  Alana faced the mouth of the cave and stepped confidently into the murky darkness. The foursome had not gone very far before both floor and walls started to get slippery. Alana held up her right arm, letting the others know to stop. “The cave is about to descend at a fairly steep angle, I suggest we rope ourselves together and put on our helmets.”

  Ten minutes later, they were all harnessed and roped together with about ten feet of slack between them. The further they went, the steeper the gradient became and the harder it was to see with ambient light. They turned their helmet lights on and were only able to see wherever they were facing. This made the descent that much more treacherous. It wasn’t long before they started to lose their footing.

  “Hold up,” Brent called out from the back end. “How much steeper does the grade get?”

  Alana looked at the map and the terrain in front of her. “It starts to narrow up ahead and the grade increases as the tunnel narrows. There is a steep decline up ahead.”

  “What do you suggest?” Brent asked. “I don’t want anyone hurt. Not this early in our trek.”

  Alana looked at the drop. “We need to go down one at a time. Seven, how much rope did you and the Bishop get at the market?”

  “We have two hundred and fifty feet,” Seven said.

  Alana again looked at the map, trying to calculate the distance of the decline in her head.

  “Let’s clip in and send each one down individually. I’ll go first, so I can see how bad it is.”

  Brent secured the top end of the rope and began to let it out as Alana began her descent down the steep grade. He was surprised at how much rope he let out as she continued her drop. After about a hundred feet, he held the rope taught. “Have you reached bottom?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” she said. Her voice echoed off the cavernous walls. “It looks like I’m about half way before I hit bottom. I stopped to catch my breath. The rest of the way will be a free fall, so I’m going to anchor in a carabiner every ten feet. I’ll attach the pulley and wrap the rope through it. I need you to give me a little slack.”

  Brent gave her five feet of slack, and nervously waited through the silence. Minutes later he felt a tug on the line. “I’m in, and anchored,” she yelled. “The walls are much slipperier than I imagined, so you are going to have to rely on your pulley and break in order to stop your downward momentum.” As she continued to talk, the entire rope went totally slack. “I’ve reached bottom. You need to get down here.” There was alarm in her voice. “You’re not going to believe what I’m looking at.”

  Brent sent Seven down next. His descent was much faster due to all of Alana’s hard work. From below, she watched Seven repel as if in a freefall. His speed of descent frightened her, thinking that maybe he had lost control. She heard the friction of the pulley against the rope getting louder as he gained speed and came crashing toward the bottom. Just before he reached the ground, the squeal of his pulley brake pierced her ears as he suddenly came to a halt, mere inches from the cave floor.

  “We have a long way to go yet, don’t give me a heart attack so early,” she said as he unclipped from his harness.

  He just smirked and spit tobacco juice at his feet. “Sorry,” was the only word he spoke.

  Alana just shook her head and called up for the next to be sent down.

  Brent clipped the Bishop into his harness and instructed him on how to repel down the cave surface.

  “I can’t do it,” he said.

  He looked at Bishop Jessup to give him a pep talk and saw fear wash over his face. “How about we go down together,” Brent said.

  The Bishop looked back and nodded.

  Brent clipped in and stood with his back to the steep decline. “I want you to do the same and wedge yourself up against me. Keep your left hand on the pulley break and your right hand on the rope behind you.” Brent helped the Bishop position his hands and then told him to keep the handle squeezed at all times unless he was instructed. “By letting go of
it, you put on the brakes on. I’ll control our speed, you just need to try and relax and don’t look down. Got it?”

  Bishop Jessup didn’t have to be told twice; he just stood there and craned his head skyward.

  “Soldier,” Brent said sharply. “Answer your commanding officer.”

  “I heard you, let’s just get this over with,” he answered.

  With those words, Brent began to slowly descend into the throat of the crevasse. Moments later, Seven and Alana watched as Brent made a measured drop, never changing his speed of fall, no matter the gradient. Before the Bishop even knew it, his feet were on terra-firma. As he was unbuckled from his harness, he continued to bless himself.

  “Try to take slower breaths, Bishop, there is limited oxygen at this depth and we all need to use it,” Alana said.

  With all the repelling equipment put away, Brent asked Alana what she wanted them to see. Turning her flashlight toward the wall of the cave, he knew. Skeletons lined the far wall. Lined up like some sort of warped Halloween display, their empty skulls stared back at them.

  “Damn,” was the only word that came from Brent’s lips.

  Alana took a closer look. “This is where the Philistine army met with their death against King David.”

  “What makes you think so?” Brent asked.

  Looking at him, she said, “Since you know I’m an Archeologist then you should also know that I am primarily a Biblical Archeologist. Their armor or what’s left of it is definitely Philistine.”

  As they were talking, Seven shined his light on the wall above the bodies. “What do you make of that?” he said.

  On the wall were words etched into the limestone. “I’m an Archeologist, not a scholar of ancient languages,” Alana answered.

  Brent waved the Bishop closer. “Padre, get your butt over here. I didn’t drag you down here for nothing.”

  On wobbly legs, Bishop Jessup made his way over to the group. Fumbling his way out of his backpack, he found a pad of paper and a pen.