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Authors: W. G. Griffiths

BOOK: Driven
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T
his is a joke, right?” Katz said in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, Pierce. She saw Jesus Christ! How many other sons of
God were crucified in Jerusalem two thousand years ago?” he said through clenched teeth.

Both he and Gavin quickly looked into the living room to see if their elevating discussion from the foyer had disturbed Karianne.
Fortunately, she was still under, with her right hand raised like a flag. “There is nothing bigger than this, Pierce,” Katz
said in a desperate whisper. “She was actually there. At the crucifixion. Her report is the most… most…”

“Sorry, Katz,” Gavin whispered. “We have to move on.”

“Move on?
Move on?
I’m scheduling you for a CAT scan, Pierce. You definitely need your head examined. No one in their right mind would move
on from this. For heaven’s sake, I’m Jewish and even I want to know more!”

“Katz, we almost lost her. She cried hysterically for more than a half hour and didn’t respond to any of those little tricks
of the trade you’re so hot on. Thank God you finally did get her back under.”

“I screwed up. What can I say?” Katz said. “I never expected her to pop out of the trance like that. Very uncharacteristic.
She’s been
the perfect patient up until then. But now I know better,” he pleaded. “I won’t take anything for granted.”

“Neither will I,” Gavin shot back. “Whoever or whatever she saw almost drove her out of her mind. If we lose her, we lose
our best shot at Krogan. I can’t—won’t take that chance.”

Katz rolled his eyes. “Look, we won’t lose her. I promise.”

“Sorry.”

“But how can you not let me take her back?”

“How can I let you? These questions you’re asking her could give her nightmares—could screw her up for the rest of her life!”

“Please! Let me be the psychologist and you the cop. When was the last time you heard someone speaking in premedieval Latin,
asleep or awake?”

“She never actually did say his name. All we got were nicknames.”

“Nicknames? Nicknames! ‘God’s Son’? Render unto me a break, Pierce. When was the last time you heard a nickname like that?”

“The answer is no. You’re just gonna have to be patient.”

“If you asked every person on this planet whom they would want to meet if they could meet any person from any time, half of
them would say Jesus Christ. And you want me to be patient? We could confirm or rewrite the Bible!”

“Leave me out of your professional aspirations, Katz. Leave Karianne out of it. Look, the longer you argue with me about it,
the longer it will take us to get Krogan. And the longer that takes, the longer you’re going to have to be patient,” Gavin
said.

“Okay. Okay,” Katz said. “If that’s what it’s going to take, let’s get him. He’s ruining everything.”

Gavin had to laugh to himself as he followed a newly motivated Harold Katz into the living room. The psychologist took his
seat facing Karianne with a determined countenance.

“Karianne, I want you to go back to the life of Glaucus Tertius,” Katz said, motioning to Gavin, who was already half out
of his seat, to relax. “I want you to go back to the next time Glaucus sees Krogan.”

Once again, Karianne’s head swayed slowly for almost a minute. “No Glaucus,” she said. “Glaucus dead,” apparently free to
answer in the language spoken to her while between bodies.

“How did Glaucus die?”

“Decapitated. Battle ax,” she said calmly.

Doesn’t she ever die of natural causes, Gavin wondered.

“Hmm. If Glaucus is dead, where are you now?”

Gavin cleared his throat and tapped on the board. When Katz turned, he underlined the same message he had already given:
Krogan.

Katz mouthed, “
I know.

“Searching,” Karianne said.

“For Krogan?”

“No. Want comfort. Want life. Krogan will come later. Krogan always comes.”

“I want you to move forward to the next time Krogan, uh, comes.”

After a brief pause, Karianne’s eyes sprang open. Gavin reflexively stopped breathing, anticipating that she might freak out
again, but she didn’t. Her eyes, though opened wide, didn’t appear to be moving or focusing on anything in the room. She began
laughing. She appeared to be still under, but the laughing didn’t put Gavin at ease. It sounded more scornful than cheery.

“Has Krogan come?”

“Sic,” she said, still laughing.

Hearing her speak again in Latin, Katz looked at everyone’s face and then back to Karianne. “What is your name?”

“Dorjan Maximus,” she said proudly.

“What country are you in?”

“Roma.”

“And what is Krogan’s name in this life?”

“Krogan.”

“In every life his name is the same?”

“Sic.”

“Does Krogan like his name?”

“Sic. Scribere nomen cutis.”

“She says Krogan writes his name on skin.”

“On skin? You mean like a tattoo?”

“Sic.”

“Are there any other tattoos Krogan likes?”

“Sic.
Shadahd.


Shadahd.
Hmm… Does he do this in every life?”

“Sic.”

Katz frowned. “How is that possible? He can’t be born with the knowledge of his previous life’s name. His parents certainly
can’t know it. Could he be that in touch with his subconscious in every life? Is that it? Is Krogan somehow psychically linked
with others from his past?”

Karianne laughed. “Krogan praevalida… firmus. Krogan convinco. Krogan excellens,” she said with the swagger of arrogance
in her voice.

Steinman looked confused, but relayed what he had heard. “She says Krogan is very powerful, very strong. Krogan overcomes.
Krogan is superior.”

Gavin wondered if this Dorjan character had misunderstood the question. By the look on Katz’s face, he was probably wondering
the same thing.

“Krogan maintains his name because he’s superior?” Katz repeated.

“Sic.”

“His memory is strong—is that what you mean?”

Karianne laughed arrogantly again. “Krogan commorantes praevalens.”

“She says Krogan exists very powerfully.”

Katz looked around the room. Gavin made note of what she had said and motioned for Katz to move on.

“Who is the emperor?”

“Nero.”

“Nero?” Katz blurted. He turned to Gavin. His droopy face looked even more pathetic than usual. Gavin stoically shook his
head, then tapped the marker once on the board, where the psychologist’s first duty was clearly spelled out. He felt like
a stern parent marching his sugar-craving child through a candy store, slapping his hand whenever it came near the object
of its temptation. With a sigh, Katz turned back.

“How do you recognize Krogan when he comes? How do you know it’s him?”

“Krogan palificare,” she laughed.

“Krogan makes himself known,” Steinman said.

“How?”


Shadahd,
” she said proudly.

Katz looked at Gavin as if for an answer, then shrugged. “What is Krogan doing?” he asked.

“Comprehendo discipulus,” she said, laughing condescendingly.

“Seizing disciples,” Steinman said.

“Christians?” Katz asked.

“Sic.”

“Why?”

“Concutio.”

“To terrorize,” Steinman said.

“Why?”

“Contemptus infirmus, inanis, laudator. Desipio.”

“They’re useless, weak, contemptible praisers who make asses of themselves.”

“What will you do with them?”

Karianne laughed louder. “Cruor. Carnifico. Eviscero. Connubium. Diripio. Deleo,” she yelled, her eyes flaming with intensity.

Steinman looked queasy. He paused until Katz finally motioned for him to speak. “She says they will rape and slaughter them.
They will behead, mangle, disembowel, and tear them to pieces until they are all gone forever.”

Gavin quickly cleared the dry-erase board and wrote,
Don’t let Karianne witness this stuff. Find out if Dorjan knows how Krogan dies.

Katz nodded quickly, as if he had been thinking the same thing.

“Does Dorjan know how Krogan’s body dies?”

“Sic,” she said delightedly.

“Did you see him die?”

“Sic.
Shadahd,
” she proclaimed. “Mons via. Raeda. Abruptus clivas. Petra.”

“She keeps speaking in imagery, not complete sentences. I believe she’s saying Krogan was on a mountain road in a large horse-drawn
wagon full of captives and he drove it off a steep hillside and crashed it into a rock.”

“Was that correct, Dorjan?”

“Sic.”

“Were you with Krogan?”

“Sic.”

“Did you die, too?”

“Sic.”

Gavin cleared his throat to catch Katz’s attention, then signaled a time-out with his hands and motioned for Katz to follow
him into the foyer.

“How’s she doing?” Gavin asked.

“She seems to be holding her ground well while in regression.
I’ll have to be very careful bringing her back to this time, but in the other lives she’s remarkably solid.”

“How much more can we press her?” Gavin asked, looking at his watch. “It’s after ten. We’ve been at this for more than three
hours.”

“Actually, we are the ones affected by the time. For all intents and purposes she’s asleep. As long as she doesn’t pop out
like she did before, she’ll outlast us.”

“Then let’s keep going. In each life I want you to key in on what Krogan is doing and how he dies. Find out if he ever gets
arrested. And how.”

“Are you sure you want to continue? We’ve already covered a lot of ground tonight. There’s always tomorrow.”

“Forget tomorrow! The problem isn’t if Krogan is going to be stopped. It’s when. He’s not a pro. He just kills and escapes.
He doesn’t do much to cover his tracks, and if we wait, sooner or later we’ll get him. But in the meantime he’ll continue
to do just what he’s been doing apparently since who knows when. He kills recklessly until he or someone else sends him into
the next life. And as far as I’m concerned, his time in this one is way overdue. Now… Let’s get some coffee and get back
to our history lesson.”

S
UDDENLY
, or so it seemed, morning light invaded the darkness outside the living room windows. Gavin, in disbelief that so much time
could have passed, checked his watch. To his surprise, dawn was still keeping its regular schedule. His eyes were burning
from lack of rest and his stomach was burning from coffee acid. Katz’s speech was slurred and Steinman had to be regularly
reminded to translate into English, not German or French or, once, Japanese. Amy, who had been keeping scrupulous notes from
the outset, occasionally jerked her head upward after unintentionally slipping into sleep.

Gavin was trying his best to stay objective under the bizarre and
sometimes frightening circumstances. Although there was nothing in his training that dealt with past lives and finding clues
in historical nightmares, he had been trained to focus and find patterns in the midst of chaos, whether they made sense or
not. And there were patterns. They had found that whenever they were together, Krogan was always the leader and Karianne’s
host, male or female, was always the follower. Krogan, for whatever reason, was always male. Another strange coincidence was
that they always seemed to be under the influence; every reunion was one of drunkenness and destruction and almost every life
ended in tragedy. They never seemed to live past thirty-five years of age.

Katz sat back in the folding chair and dabbed with his white handkerchief at his puffy, drooping eyes. Gavin didn’t know if
the tears were from fatigue or sorrow. Maybe both. “I need a break,” Katz said. “If I could just close my eyes for a little
while, I’d…”

“Get some rest, Doc,” Gavin said. “I think we’ve pushed as far as we can for now. We need to compare notes when we can all
think straight.”

Gavin also needed a break. The fact all this reincarnation crap was actually becoming plausible to him made him desperate
for sleep. A rested mind could function at a level impossible for him now. He had to rest.

Amy stood up and stretched her arms toward the ceiling, then slowly lowered them to her side, moving her head back and forth
until a small pop was heard. After a second’s hesitation, Gavin walked up behind her, rested his hands on the top of her shoulders,
and lightly massaged her neck. She sighed gratefully.

“Would you like me to drive you home so you can sleep for a while or would you rather lay down in Karianne’s room? According
to Katz she won’t need her bed. She’s had the equivalent of a full night’s sleep by now,” Gavin said, hoping she would opt
for Karianne’s
bed. He was too tired to drive and needed only a pillow and a place on the carpet for a couple of hours.

“Neither,” Amy said. “I want you to take me for a drive in the country.”

Gavin was too tired to repeat himself or be humored. “There’s beautiful country just the other side of that door,” he said,
motioning toward the bedroom.

“Then send me a postcard; I’ll go upstate by myself,” Amy said, bending over to put her notebook into her handbag.

It took Gavin a second to understand, as if his brain was on some kind of low-battery time delay. “Whoa! Where exactly is
it you think you’re going?”

“Upstate. The Catskills. I want to talk to the Reverend Jesse J. Buchanan.”

“Now?”

“Yes. It’s Saturday morning. The perfect time,” Amy said, hanging her handbag strap on her shoulder.

“Aren’t you too tired?” Katz asked. “The Catskills are a good three hours from here. Can’t you simply call him?”

“Hamden is more like four hours and I want to talk to him in person.”

Katz shook his head and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “Then I’ll take Karianne’s bed.”

Gavin watched Katz walk back away and felt the need to control a rising anger. Why did she have to be so pigheaded? “Amy,
I want to talk to the Reverend Buchanan, too. But I need to check out the work list from the Lighting Company. We’ll both
think much better after a little think— I mean sleep. See? I can’t even talk straight.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to sleep when we’re dead,” Amy quipped.

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