30 Pieces of Silver (32 page)

“
Pull up!” Davidson shouted, and Brandt could see why. The ground was rushing up at them, then the engines cut out. He knew because the metal beneath his feet suddenly stopped shuddering, and it felt like his heart had just been transplanted to his throat.

“
I told you, you would stall!” Davidson yelled.

* * *

Rebecca tried not to stare out the window, but that was all her eyes wanted to do. They were plummeting back to the earth with no engines, and explosions all around. The sky looked like a fireworks display, only it was not the Fourth of July, and it was no longer fun.

“
Damn it, Lopez, pull up!” Davidson yelled, but the pilot seemed wholly unfazed by the brilliant blasts. If anything, he looked like he was having fun.

Next to her, Lochum clutched James’ bone to his chest. Was that a prayer upon his lips? Yet she refused to despair. They could not have come so far and through so much to end up pulverized. And as the seconds ticked by, it looked more and more like that was exactly how her life was going to end.

Now she was glad that she had kissed Brandt.

Their freefall was interrupted as the plane complained violently as Lopez tried to bring the nose up.

“
Finally!” Davidson screamed.

“
Shut up and help!” the corporal answered.

Rebecca strained against her seat belt to look into the cockpit. Both men were pulling with all their might. The veins bulged over their well-muscled arms. Even Brandt tugged up on Lopez’s yoke.

It felt as if the plane hiccupped. Then the engines kicked in, throwing her back against her seat. That had to have been a couple of Gs worth of force as they barely leveled out over a suburban housing development. They flew so low that Rebecca could see rooftops blowing off in their wake.

“
Wahoo!” Lopez yelled as he kept them barely above ground level.

“
Gain altitude!” Davidson shouted, but to deaf ears. Lopez was too busy slaloming between light poles and traffic signs.

“
Damn it, Lopez!” Brandt threatened as the sound of the punished engines drowned out nearly everything else.

“
Check out the missiles!” the corporal yelled back.

For a moment Rebecca did not know what he was talking about, but Brandt seemed to immediately understand. “Keep us below the radar floor, but not this low.”

Rebecca looked at Svengurd, who monitored their progress through the window next to hers. He pointed to an explosion far off to their left. With the general mayhem, she hadn’t even heard the continuing explosions. “They can’t track us.”

With a new regard, Rebecca looked to Lopez who had steadied them off several hundred feet above the passing terrain. He put a hand up for a high five, but Davidson did not take the bait.

“
I told you, you were going to stall her!”

Lopez stroked the yoke like a lover. “Only because I asked her to. Only because I asked. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“
Why would you—” Davidson stopped himself mid-sentence, then finished the high-five slap. “You
do
rule.”

Confused, Rebecca looked at Svengurd. “He purposefully stalled the engines to cool them in case they were using heat-seeking missiles.”

Lopez looked at Brandt. “Still want me to turn over the wheel, Sarge?”

The sergeant didn’t even bother answering. He just headed back to his seat. He moved too quickly for her to avert her gaze, but Brandt just rolled his eyes at the corporal’s enthusiasm, then plopped down into his seat. Within seconds his lids were closed, and he seemed to be fast asleep.

For not the first time in the past forty-eight hours, Rebecca knew she had to get herself one of these men for her research team.

The Path Ahead

Judea

AD 42

Judas had only gotten halfway up the hill to his family’s home when his leg complained so loudly that he had to stop and lean against a neighbor’s garden post. He flexed the leg up and down trying to drain the ache from it. All the more reason for him to stay in town. He would not wish to slow Jesus’ travels, but his friend’s sad countenance refused to leave his mind. Judas reassured himself that with time this sense of guilt would fade.

He pushed off the fence and tested his leg when Mary came rushing up the hill, shawl fluttering at her shoulders, revealing her dark hair. Judas could not remember the last time he had seen her hair. It certainly had to be awhile, for there were gray streaks throughout, revealing her age.

“
Judas,” she said as she caught up with him. “I thought you were joining us?”

By her tone, he was sure she did not mean just for dinner. “Jesus must have told you my reasons.”

Her tone was sharp. “You cannot abandon him.”

Trying to remember that this was Jesus’ mother, Judas evened his tone. “I abandon no one, Mary. Ameil’s need is simply greater.”

She sighed and sat upon the fence’s rail, patting the place next to her. He was reluctant to comply. What sort of mood was the woman in? Given all the years they had known one another, Mary had not given him two kind words put together. He would have thought her the first to give him leave.

“
Please, there is something I must share with you,” she said.

Tentatively Judas sat down beside her, testing the wood to make sure she did not intend to pull it out from under him. But she did nothing of the sort. Instead, her visage became melancholy as she looked up to the stars.

“
Did you know that when the angels sing, they are so precisely in accord that you cannot separate one’s voice from the other?”

“
No. No, I did not.” Judas tried to keep the shame from his voice. This family was so used to God’s great blessings they seemed to forget he was but a poor sinner limping his way to grace.

“
When they came to me and told me of God’s child growing in my belly, I did not doubt that I was worthy.” Unconsciously she rubbed her midriff. “I gave no mind to the rumors that I had lain with that harvesting boy from Selgea. I knew the truth of it. I was to be Christ’s mother. It was as natural as taking in my breath. I honestly worried more about the color of my wedding ribbons than I did about raising the Son of God.”

Judas nodded, but she did not notice. Mary seemed lost to memory.

“
You know of my labor in the stable, but what you do not know of was the fear that gripped my heart.”

Judas nodded. “I was forced to help my sister with her last child. There is no shame in dreading such pain.”

Mary shook her head absently. “The searing agony I expected, but the first time Jesus squalled such a perfect cry that the wail echoed the angel’s song, I knew that I did not deserve to be his mother. When the men from the East arrived with their riches and knowledge, I begged them to take Jesus from my unworthy arms and raise him to be the savior that he was destined to be.”

Judas stayed silent. Mary had never seemed anything but praiseworthy as a mother. The woman had raised a brood of the finest men and women he had ever had the honor of knowing. Judas could not imagine how remote Jesus would have become if left in the hands of scholars, no matter how rich they might be.

“
But they refused. They told me that my love for him was both my blessing and my curse. My blessing because I would know a love that eclipsed all else. My curse because I could never leave his side. He would grow to suffer greatly, and I could never abandon him to such agony. They told me frankly that his pain would become my own.”

Judas could see the path where Mary was headed, and he wished to outflank her. “As I feel of Ameil. He is my—”

Mary interrupted him. “This night Jesus instructed me to take the money I had been saving to buy the cloth for the thick, embroidered robes he would need when the day came for him teach in the Temple at Jerusalem and add it to the moneys Magdalene had donated.”

“
I do not understand.”

“
You heard what he told James. There was no need to account past Passover. He intends to provoke the Romans. He intends to be arrested within the year, and you know of what doom that speaks.”

Judas stood up, uncaring of the complaint of his leg at such sudden movement. “I am sorry, Mary, for I did not wish to speak harshly, but you speculate wildly.”

Her face was nothing but sadness given human form. “Do I? I overheard some of what he and John spoke about. They agreed neither would see Jesus’ birthday. Both would be in God’s kingdom by the onset of winter.”

Judas blinked several times, trying to wipe the truth from his vision. He had felt Jesus’ hurry, his rush to complete his work. Judas had thought it nothing more than years of waiting finally being released into action, but he had been wrong.

“
Why gather a formal twelve, Judas? He knows he will need devoted followers to carry on his work once he is gone.”

The words carried a weight that made him sit down again.

Mary’s voice was hurt, but kind. “So long ago, that day you two met and Jesus asked me if he might go out to play with his new friend named Judas, I knew that I might be his mother, but you were to be his true companion on this journey.”

“
You overstate my role, Mary.”

“
Do I?” she asked as she pulled out the leather purse. “Tonight he came to me with tears in his eyes, Judas. He said he could not ask you again, but he feared the dark days ahead without you.” She laid the purse in his hands. It felt far heavier, which had nothing to do with the coin she had added. “I saw you the first time you met him, Judas. You were working in the field and Jesus was sitting upon the side of the furrow looking sad and lonely. We had just come from Egypt. He knew no one beyond our family, and all the men were out raising a roof that I refused to let him attend for fear of his small frame. You came and showed him how to set the plow’s blade deep into the earth, then shoulder the yoke to make a straight row.”

Judas remembered the day well. He had felt so very grown-up. To be able to be the one to show a craft rather than constantly be the pupil.

Mary continued, “When you two had completed the tiny garden patch, he smiled at you. I noted it, for in truth I was a bit jealous, for his graces were few and far between. Then I saw the look in your eyes. In that moment, his love became both your blessing and your curse, Judas.” Her voice hardened into a sharp point. “You must see him through this.”

“
But—”

“
He rushes headlong to his fate, gleeful that he might fulfill his Lord’s wishes. You, Judas, you are the only one that might step in front of him and demand he think his course through. Only you might appeal to him that we of this world need him for a time longer. You can convince him that God can await his son’s company until we are all old and wrinkled.”

Judas let his breath hiss out. He thought of the tears Ameil would cry if he told him they would be parted.

Touching his arm, Mary wrapped his fingers around the purse. “The boy will ache for you Judas, make no doubt, but if Jesus has his way we will be without him by Yom Kippur. Ameil will be safe with his family here, but will Jesus be so protected without you?” Her words quickened. “He might not feel able to ask you again to join him, but I beg it of you.”

How could he explain to her that a large part of his reluctance was not so much that he needed to prove himself to Ameil, but that he would fail Jesus?

“
I again fear you overestimate my worth, Mary. John was clear—”

“
Dam—” The mother of Jesus stopped short of uttering the curse, but her anger was not at all contained. “That man adds dry timber to a wildfire. He is so full of zeal, Judas. The Baptist welcomes sacrifice. If he had his way Jesus would be at his heels to the butcher’s knife.”

“
Perhaps, but the others revere your son and would let no harm come to him if they could help it.”

Quite unladylike, Mary snorted loudly. “That woman who funds this suicidal quest? She longs to hold the ax her very self.”

Judas knew this to be false, but did not argue. The tension between the two women was not his concern. Ameil was.

Gingerly rising, Judas went to move off, but Mary seemed startled.

“
Please…”

“
I go to explain to my nephew that we will be parted for a time, but reunited when it is God’s will.”

Visibly relieved, Mary looked like she might hug him, but they had not gained that much this night. “Thank you. I fear if you had disagreed I would have been condemned to hell for never forgiving you.”

It was a strange thing to say, but somewhere in the harsh words was a warm sentiment. One did not feel so passionately without caring deeply. In the end, he felt the same of Jesus. Ameil could grow a season without him, but Judas could never allow Jesus to die without him.

Silently, Mary went back into the house as Judas renewed his climb.

How sure Jesus, James, Magdalene, and even Mary seemed to be of his fortitude. They all felt him a key piece in this complex puzzle that God had laid out before them.

Why then, did Judas still believe John had it the most right of all?