He had caused a stir among the Romans. Several approached the man sitting in the currilis, who I presumed to be Pontius Pilate, but he waved them off. Oh, if only I could have heard that conversation.
Whispers abounded. “That’s the Jew, isn’t it? I thought he died in his last race.”
More voices gossiped. “Is it really him? He doesn’t look like a Jew. He looks like a Roman. That can’t be him.”
I heard a man’s voice. “Looks like Pontius Pilate is going to let him race.”
So the man on the throne dressed in purple was Pontius Pilate.
“Who is he racing against?” someone asked. “I hope it’s Tariq Naser. He’s won too many races. Someone needs to beat him.”
The banter continued, and I sat frozen, unable to look at who was talking. My throat was so dry, I couldn’t speak.
More names were announced until all the names of the charioteers and their teams had been recognized. A couple of minutes passed as the audience watched.
I followed everyone’s gaze to the entrance. Two riders on horses carrying banners led two chariot teams. One was the White Team and the other was the Green Team. I recognized Daniel immediately. Tariq was racing for the Green Team. This was it—at least we would get it over with without having to wait.
Suddenly people began to chant. “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.”
Pontius Pilate stood holding a handkerchief in his right hand. The designated person loaded the two teams into their stalls. Tariq was on the inside and Daniel was on the outside. The trumpet sounded again.
Pilate dropped the handkerchief and the gates fell. The chariots took off in blazing speed leaving behind a wake of dust.
CHAPTER 61
THE ROARING CROWD and horses’ hoofs pounding the dirt track shook the stadium. Tariq viscously whipped his horses. It didn’t take long for disgust to settle in my stomach.
The overwhelming truth consumed me that the guy was a cheater—a Nephilim from the future. He had come here and made a mockery of the races.
What had he done to Daniel’s father? He was a hybrid without a conscience, without a soul. I felt stomach contents threatening to disgorge. I slumped over pressing my arms into my stomach.
The two chariots sped down the track neck and neck into the first turn. Daniel lost ground on the outside. Tariq took the lead. Daniel thrust his reins.
Tariq glanced behind him. Seeing Daniel gaining, the Nephilim whipped his horses. I heard their cries. The poor animals were at the mercy of a demonic tyrant. My heart ached.
Daniel caught Tariq at the turn, but Tariq wouldn’t let him pass on the inside. Daniel tried to pass him on the outside. This time he lost more ground.
Tariq cut the turn sharper. Daniel dropped back. He’d have to find a way to get around Tariq on the inside.
The first dolphin fell.
Shira grabbed my arm. “Auntie, look.”
“Yes, I see.” My voice shook.
She noticed. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
Daniel charged ahead. The chariots swooped around the turn at the far end. Daniel trailed. Could he sneak up on the next straightaway?
One of Tariq’s horses took a misstep. Daniel seized the moment. He plunged ahead of Tariq on the inside.
When Tariq caught up, he hurled his whip at Daniel. The unexpected attack left Daniel wobbling. He struggled to regain control. The chariot lurched sideways.
I held my breath. When my betrothed recovered, he whipped the reins once more. His horses swooped forward, but Tariq had passed him. Daniel maneuvered around the turn tighter this time. Could he catch Tariq again? I couldn’t watch.
The spectators chanted, “Daniel!”
Daniel exited the turn behind Tariq but had inched closer. Perspiration beaded on my forehead. I felt faint, leaned over, and vomited. Shira looked away, disgusted. No one else noticed—they were too busy watching the race.
Tariq pulled ahead going into the next turn.
A second dolphin fell. Five more laps.
Daniel crept up on the outside. Again, the hybrid creature slashed his whip on Daniel’s back. How was Daniel going to get around him without being attacked? That couldn’t be legal. I covered my eyes. Five more laps seemed like an eternity.
“Is Daniel going to lose?” Shira asked.
“Pray,” I urged.
The two gladiators hurtled down the track. Daniel still trailed. I shook my head. The Nephilim had demonic powers. Making the turns so fast, one would think the centrifugal force would sling him through the air.
Daniel kept losing ground on the turns. Then he would have to make up the distance on the straightaway. If Daniel could pass Tariq on the inside, he could win. Daniel’s horses were faster.
The excitement had reached a fever pitch. Most of the fans stood at their seats and waved banners and hankies. Fortunately we were in the front, or unfortunately. If something happened, I’d see it. I wanted the race to end.
Daniel and Tariq rounded the turn and entered the straightaway. Daniel once again came within a horse’s head, but couldn’t pass. They galloped into the next turn.
A third dolphin fell. Four more laps to go.
The thunderous roar shook the stadium. The two chariots passed us. I shouted, “Go, Daniel.”
Daniel was pushing the limits of the horses. Unexpectedly, he slipped right past Tariq. Could he maintain it through the next turn? Daniel went low so Tariq couldn’t overtake him on the inside. Tariq almost careened into Daniel. I held my breath. Both chariots wobbled, but Daniel charged ahead.
The crowd roared, “Daniel, Daniel!”
Tariq lashed the whip on the horses. Again I heard their cries. They ran harder. Tariq shot even with Daniel.
“No,” I cried. “Don’t pass him.”
The Nephilim stuck Daniel with the whip. He jerked, swaying back and forth.
“No,” I shouted. I raised my fists in the air. “No, you”— I stopped when Shira looked up at me. “God, please help Daniel,” I prayed.
The hybrid creature whacked the whip again at Daniel, and the belt wrapped around Daniel’s neck. Gasps came from the spectators.
The trumpet sounded. Was it over? Daniel struggled to extricate himself. He managed to get the whip off before entering the next turn.
Tariq, enraged, pursued him.
“God,” I cried.
The fourth dolphin fell. Three more laps to go.
Daniel regained control pivoting into the turn. Tariq smacked the whip hard. Instead of hitting Daniel, the cord got stuck between the spokes. Tariq jerked forward. He almost fell. Daniel surged ahead.
I waved my hands. “Go!”
Then I noticed that Tariq’s whip was on the ground. “Thank you, Jesus.”
The fifth dolphin fell. Two more laps to go. If only this were the last one. If only.
Daniel plunged forward, flashing the reins. Tariq thrust ahead nipping at Daniel’s back wheels. They sped into the next turn. Daniel cut sharply. Any sharper, he would have overturned.
The wicked creature again tried to plow into Daniel’s biga. They came out of the turn and hit the straightaway. Daniel’s chariot seesawed before leveling out. They entered the back turn with Daniel in front. Tariq was a hand’s-breadth behind.
The sixth dolphin fell. One more lap to go.
Tariq snuck up from behind. The front chariot wheel was even with the back of Daniel’s. Then I saw what Tariq was doing. He had a pointed spike on his wheel. Could he saw off the spoke of Daniel’s biga?
They entered the turn with Daniel ahead. Tariq bore down. A horse’s head separated them. Daniel pulled out in front. The distance widened, but as my beloved neared the next turn, Tariq gained ground.
“Please, God,” I cried, “protect Daniel’s wheel.”
They passed in front. Too much dust hampered my view. They hit the far turn. Daniel stayed tight. Tariq was desperate. Thankfully he didn’t have the whip.
They came out onto t
he straightaway. Tariq pressed even harder, but his horses were tiring. He could no longer torture them. Daniel blazed forward into the final turn. I held my breath. The spectators stood on their feet waving their hands and shouting, “Daniel!”
The racers pounded the track and the horses stormed towards the finish line. Tariq made one last attempt to catch Daniel, but his efforts were futile.
The seventh dolphin fell. I joined in the cheers. My hero had won.
Then, momentarily, I didn’t see either chariot. Seconds later, they were back. I saw the chariots and the horses, but where was Daniel? I glanced at Tariq’s chariot. Where was the wicked one?
The riotous crowd seemed to notice something was amiss. A hush fell over the hippodrome. I peered through the settling dirt on the turn and straightaway. Where were they? Had they gone into the center island? My heart pounded.
“Where is Daniel?” Shira asked.
I stared at the unmanned chariots. “I don’t know.”
Shira pointed. “Look, Auntie.”
Distracted and upset, I didn’t want Shira bothering me. I ignored her, straining to see down the far side of the track. I glanced at the Roman socialites—some had stood, gazing at the chariots.
Shira shook my arm. “Auntie, look. There’s a dog.”
I peeled my eyes away from the track to see what Shira was pointing at. “My God,” I cried. I touched my hand to my heart. “Much-Afraid, is that you?”
She ran towards me, wagging her tail, avoiding where I had thrown up. “Shale, you’ve left such a mess.”
“It is you!”
TO BE CONTINUED
Be sure to look forSeventh Dimension - The Howling, Book 6, A Young Adult Fantasy, at bookstores soon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When not writing books, Lorilyn provides closed captioning for television. She adopted her two daughters from Nepal and Vietnam as a single mother.
Award-winning books in theSeventh Dimension Series include:
– The Door, Book 1
– The King, Book 2
– The Castle, Book 3
– The City, Book 4
Enjoy Am I okay, God? book 1 from theSeventh Dimension Devotional Series -Readers’ Favorite Award Winner and International Book Awards Finalist.
Read her Readers’ Favorite award-winning memoir, Children of Dreams, endorsed by New York Times best-selling author Jerry B. Jenkins, and be inspired.
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