Spencer sat up straight. With every utterance, his voice was joined by another, and another, until he spoke with the combined voices of fifty separate men, all in unison. “You know what? What? You deserve to know. He does? He does! Tell him! We will! We went to the future. It’s really quite a wonderful place. Nice. Nice! War. Famine. Technology. We used this amazing mind to create a device that binds time and space into a solid, unbendable force. Rendering you…stuck. Like glue! Like bugs in honey! Stuck.”
Tom’s mind began searching for an explanation…began working out the problem…began…remembering.
Spencer stood confidently and held a small device in front of him. “Such magnificent power for such a small device. Tiny. Much like that watch of yours, which we find to be a wonderful new toy. So much fun! A wonderful new toy for us!”
Tom’s mind flashed back two years. The same look in the eyes. The same voice. Tom knew it was impossible, but what other explanation was there? “I know who you are.”
“Of course you do. We’re Spencer! Friendly, helpful, quiet, Spencer!”
“The body might be different…the cuts on your arms are gone…”
Spencer’s eyes widened and he smiled a toothy grin. “Bravo for you. He’s so smart. We don’t like him. Neither do we,” Spencer said, as he put the device down on the console next to him.
Tom’s eyes glanced at the device. He knew it was the key to their escape.
“You’re welcome to try, disciple,” Spencer said in Aramaic, “but you have felt our power twice before.” He switched back to English and continued, “You know what we will do to you. Crush you. Break you. Kill you. Yes! Yes…”
Tom looked shocked, he knew who Tom was, is, and used to be. But twice before? Tom only remembered the one time, which ended with a herd of pigs committing watery suicide.
Spencer laughed. “It’s been two years for you. It’s been two thousand for us, but Legion remembers you.”
“Impossible.”
“You still don’t believe that we’re real? Fascinating. Astounding. He’s so ignorant! We know!”
Sally had stopped moving. She looked mortified. “Tom…”
Tom felt bad about lying to Sally, but what other choice did he have? “Ignore him. He’s delusional. Could be a side effect of traveling into the future. Right now, we need to get that device. I’ll take care of him; you get that thing and smash it.”
Sally nodded and the two began walking toward Spencer, focused on their individual goals. Spencer stood his unflinching ground. “Jesus was a fool to let us go. A fool! He knew we would come back. And we have. Again, and again. He knew we would steal. Lie. Rape. Murder. Our favorite! Just like we did to your wife.”
Tom became like a statue, unmoving and solid.
“Remember the golden field? We saw you there. We weren’t sure how it was possible then, but we knew who you were. Thomas, the disciple of Jesus. Tom. Didymus. The doubter himself. Here, in the future! Tormenting you was delightful. ‘Do you believe ahs dis wuman deed? Ansah me now.’ Like the accent? We can throw it on like a light switch! So much fun. We remember that day. So do we!”
Tom’s mind raced to compile and hypothesize on what Spencer, on what Legion, was telling him. Legion was in Zambia. Legion recognized him as a disciple of Jesus from thousands of years past, before he had even gone back. Could Legion have known who she was? Who he was? Tom’s head ached as he thought that Megan was killed because he went back in time…but he only went back in time because Megan had been killed! Tom’s breath escaped him as the vicious circle twisted his thoughts.
“Do you remember the smell of your wife’s blood on your body? We do. Delicious! The look on your face was to be cherished. We did that to you, and Jesus let us. He let us. He set us free! Why do you think that is, Tom? Why would Jesus let us go to torment you? To kill your wife? To kill your pitiful Megan?”
“ARGH!” Tom charged Spencer with the rage of twenty men filling his clenched fists. Searing hot blood was pulsing through his veins, filled with strength-giving adrenaline. He was going to kill Spencer or die trying.
TWENTY TWO
Confrontations
2005
Arizona
David’s nose burned from the smell of month-old, gray paint that coated the stairwell walls and railings. With each breath, he became more aware how odd the smells of the future were. In the past, smell made sense. It was animal, dirt, grass, flowers or food. Never anything as toxic smelling as latex paint laid down once a year to keep things looking new.
As David neared the bottom floor, he could hear several men screaming orders in English. The words were repeated over and over as though the recipient of the verbal barrage was not complying. But David knew it was simply because Lazarus could not understand the words being shouted at him. And soon the guards’ patience would wear thin.
David reached the stairwell exit and cracked open the door. He peeked out into the hallway, which was white and covered with long red and green painted arrows, pointing to various technical areas. Lazarus was against the wall, surrounded by Daniels and two other guards. All three had their weapons drawn and trained on Lazarus’s head.
“Hands behind your head, damnit! Now!” Daniels shouted.
David saw no way for this to end peacefully. But what could he do against three armed guards? David put his hand on his waist and felt something cold and solid. He looked down. Of course! After Jake was knocked unconscious by Lazarus, David had picked up his gun. At the time, he had no intention of using it, but this new situation called for extreme action.
David pulled the gun from under his robe. It was heavy in his hand. He felt dangerous, like James Bond, only he didn’t have a license to kill and hoped he could completely avoid any violence at all. But he’d do whatever he had to do to make sure Lazarus was returned to the past intact.
David raised the weapon next to his head like they do in the movies and crept silently into the hallway behind the guards. His face reddened as he closed in. His blood was pumping fast; his heart beat like a nervous hamster’s.
As David moved across the floor, he heard his footsteps like anvils falling and clanging. He was positive his approach would be discovered and that any moment now, a bullet would pierce his body. He took a slow deep breath as he came to within a foot of Daniels. He reached out slowly, and then like a striking viper David had his arm around Daniel’s neck and the muzzle of his gun firm against the man’s head. “Don’t move! Nobody move! Or…or he gets it!”
Well that sounded dumb, David thought. He didn’t plan his words as well as his actions, but the outcome was no less effective. Both guards trained their weapons away from Lazarus and onto David.
David pushed his lips close to Daniels’s ear. “Drop your weapon, now, or I’ll pull this trigger.”
The gun hit the floor and rattled next to David’s foot. David turned his attention to the other guards. “You guys don’t want to see…” David read the guard’s name badge, “…Daniels die, do you?”
One guard remained solid, unflinching. The other began to blink nervously.
Daniels started to shake. “Jim, Clark, c’mon guys…do what he says.”
Jim took a step forward and aimed as best he could at David’s head. “Put the gun down, now.”
Daniels’s face twisted as though he was being stabbed in the back. “Jim! What are you doing?”
“My job,” Jim said.
Clark began to lower his weapon. “Jim, man, I don’t know. I think we should do what he says. I don’t want anyone to get killed.”
“Listen to Clark,” David said, as he attempted to keep his head hidden behind Daniels’s. “We can all walk away from this in one piece.”
Clark bent down and placed his weapon on the floor.
“Thank you, Clark,” David said.