The Reincarnationist (37 page)

J
osh, carrying the package that contained three walnut-size sapphires, two emeralds, one ruby and a dozen sheets of paper with phonetic translations of long-forgotten Indus symbols, walked up the steps leading to the church. Gabriella walked beside him.

At the bottom of the driveway, on the street, Malachai parked and got out of his car.

Josh climbed the last of the six steps. He was on the landing. He reached out for the bronze door handle and opened it to cool air perfumed with incense.

For a few seconds, all he could see was the gloom waiting inside. After the sunshine, he was suddenly blind. But he was better than most at readjusting from light to dark from all his work behind the camera and in the darkroom, and within seconds he was reading the shadows.

He walked inside, Gabriella next to him.

Josh took ten steps up the center aisle.

A woman holding the hand of a young child stood in front of the altar. A tall, heavyset man, motionless, was to the right of them. Behind them a gold cross gleamed.

“Who are you?” the man called out. “Where's Mrs.
Chase?” In the dim light, he must not have been able to see all the way to the back of the church.

“I'm right here,” Gabriella called out. “Josh is my friend, the man you said could drive me here. He's here to help. He has what you want.”

“Mo-o-m-my…” The cry was the sound of fear and relief exchanging places, echoing on and on in the almost-empty, hollow church.

Josh felt Gabriella start beside him. He took her arm and held her back. And then he let go and stepped forward.

Meanwhile, Carl had grabbed Quinn by the shoulder, pulled her close, and held her back with one large hand, fingers digging into the little girl's flesh. Bettina's eyes were wide with confusion, not understanding what was happening. She whimpered.

The kidnapper glanced over at her, annoyed.

Hopefully by now Malachai had alerted the police. That had been the plan; once Josh and Gabriella were inside the church, he'd make the call. Josh just had to keep everyone calm until they got here.

And then he heard the sound of soft footsteps behind him.

Josh felt a surge of relief. Thank God.

He didn't turn around. He didn't want to distract the kidnapper or give him any advance warning that the police were here.

Josh kept walking to the altar. He was five feet away when he saw it: gleaming the way the cross gleamed, almost the way the stones had gleamed in Gabriella's living room the night before.

The man had a gun.

“Let Quinn go,” Josh said. “Take this and let her go.” He held out the package.

And that was when the kidnapper noticed something in the shadows.

“Let Quinn go!” Josh repeated.

The kidnapper ignored him; he was staring to Josh's right. In one quick, smooth move he pulled out his gun and pointed it into the shadows.

“Who the fuck are you?” he shouted.

Josh didn't understand what was happening. Was the kidnapper crazy enough to pull a gun on the police? He turned. No, it wasn't the police, it was Malachai. What the hell was Malachai doing here? There was no time to reason it out. Not now. But there was time for Josh to realize one thing: the police weren't on their way. Malachai, for some reason, hadn't called them.

“Hold your hands out and keep them out,” Carl said to Malachai. “I don't know who the fuck you are, and I don't want any trouble.”

Malachai held out his hands.

On the altar, Bettina's teeth started to chatter. Loudly enough for Josh to hear.

Carl turned to her. “Shut the fuck up.”

Quinn's lower lip quivered.

Josh took one step closer to the altar. “Let the baby-sitter go—you don't need her anymore,” he said calmly and evenly. “She's only going to get in your way. Let her come down here and wait with Mrs. Chase.”

This was his last chance to get Bettina out of there so she could go and get help. The church was dark enough that the kidnapper wouldn't be able to see if Bettina stayed or left.

Bettina's teeth were still chattering. The repetitive sound shattering the deep, cavernous silence.

“The noise is driving us all crazy,” Josh said to the kidnapper, sympathetically. “Let her go.”

Bettina was staring at him.

Carl was staring at her.

Call the police
, Josh mouthed carefully, hoping she wasn't yet in shock, hoping there was enough light on him that she could make out what he was saying.

“Wait down there,” Carl ordered.

Taking off down the steps, Bettina ran toward the back of the church, toward Gabriella.

Josh didn't turn around. Hopefully she'd understood what he'd asked of her and would get help.

Carl's attention returned to Malachai. “So I asked you who the fuck you were.”

“I'm not here to make any trouble,” he said. “Take the package, let go of the little girl.”

As Malachai talked, the kidnapper's eyes narrowed and he cocked his head as if he was making a great effort at listening. Then he smiled. As if something sweet had occurred to him. “The money was supposed to be deposited in my account, but it wasn't.”

Why was he telling Malachai that? Josh wondered.

“I'm sure you'll get your money when you deliver the package. Take it. Let the little girl go,” Malachai ordered.

The man shook his head. “Only if the money's there, along with whatever else I was supposed to pick up. Is it? Is what's owed to me in there?”

“Tell me how much money it is, and I'll get it for you,” Josh pleaded. “I'll get it right now.”

The kidnapper laughed. He pointed his gun at Malachai. “It's him that owes me the money. He's the one who's the fucking liar.”

“What are you talking about?” Malachai asked, astonished.

“I've got what they call an ear for voices,” Carl said. “I know who you are.”

“Oh, do you, now?” Malachai asked, sounding imperious, except for a slight nervous hesitancy on the last word.

“Yeah, I do. I know exactly who the fuck you are.”

And suddenly so did Josh.

A dozen small moments slipped into place. It was Malachai, desperate for the stones, desperate to prove reincarnation, who had orchestrated all of this; from the very beginning, years ago, on a snowy day in a chapel at Yale where Gabriella had gone to feel closer to her mother and met a priest—either Malachai himself or someone he'd hired—who gave her what turned out to be the map to the treasure. Malachi arranging to have the stones stolen. Malachai making that last effort to be the one to handle the exchange, knowing full well Josh would never agree. Malachai, the master magician. Certainly he was capable of using artifice and disguise, ruse and subterfuge. But Josh wouldn't have imagined that Malachai was also capable of the horrendous acts that had been committed in the quest for this grail. Murder and kidnapping.

The past isn't always a pathway to the future. It can be a punishment, too. That was what reincarnation was about, wasn't it? The temptation to repeat the past, the courage not to.

Josh was remembering Rome and Malachai discussing his father, who'd never given him a chance because of an older son who'd died before the second son was born.

What if I am that firstborn reincarnated
, Malachai had mused.
Wouldn't that ruin my father's life, to know that now? That he had me all along and lost me twice?

Yes, this was all Malachai's composition: his symphony of revenge.

“So are you going to give me what you owe me or not?” the kidnapper grunted.

“Let go of Quinn,” Josh said.

“You shut up,” Carl said to Josh, and jutted his chin toward Malachai. “This is between him and me.”

Malachai took a step closer to the altar, and then another. “Let go of her.”

“And give up the only currency I have? I don't give a shit what else goes down, man. I want the money!” he screamed.

Josh understood the rest of it now. The kidnapper was supposed to exchange the child for the stones and then get away. Malachai would be there in the church with Josh and Gabriella. Not a suspect. One of the child's saviors.

And then later—that night or the next day—there would be another exchange, and Malachai would retrieve the Memory Stones and the translations. They would belong to him, and he could do what he'd been waiting to do for so long—he'd rape the past.

Or at least he would try.

“So do I get the money or do I take the kid?” he snarled at Malachai. “This kid belongs to a professor—I'm sure she'll pay to get her back! You'll pay, won't you, Mrs. Chase?” He asked, calling out to the back of the church.

“Yes!” Her voice was strong and sure and tortured.

Quinn, either from the sound of her mother's voice or the pain of her captor's fingers digging into her shoulder, started to cry.

“Shut up!” Carl screamed at her.

It looked to Josh as if the man's nerves were starting to fray.

The crying grew louder, filling up the church.

Carl trained his gun on Quinn. “Do you have any idea how sick I am of listening to this kid wailing? Of getting jerked around? I want my money. Now.”

Quinn's sobs escalated.

Josh stared at the kidnapper's finger on the trigger, but
out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed Malachai moving slowly toward him. “Give me the stones, Josh,” he whispered as he reached out. “Let me handle this.”

“What do you think you're doing?” Carl screamed, brandishing the gun.

Quinn's sobs reached a level that was earsplitting.

Josh didn't know what he saw that foretold the accident, but he knew what was going to happen a split second before it happened, and he threw himself forward, shoving Quinn back and out of the way and out of the path of the kidnapper's gun.

He heard a shot and then its echo. As the echo died out he heard the sound of Quinn crying, and as she ran past him, he felt her body fan his face, a little breeze. He smelled fire. He heard Quinn shrieking out for her mother.

She was fine, he thought. Finally, she was fine.

From somewhere behind him, Josh heard Gabriella emit a soft, small moan. The pain that she expelled with that one sound must have weighed a million pounds.

Josh didn't feel anything except surprise until the burning started, and then he could smell the jasmine-and-sandalwood perfume and the exhilarating feeling of time turning on itself and washing the pain away…

Julius is running fast through the streets of Rome. He can't go fast enough. He stayed in the temple too long with his brother. Wasted—as it turned out—precious time trying to save Drago's life, only to fail. Only to lose him. He will not lose her, too, he thinks. Sabina has been underground now for twenty hours. Her air will be starting to run out. She will be waiting for him. Worried. Not understanding why he is taking so long. Will she start digging? Can she get out of the tomb by herself with just the knife? Or will she pass out from lack of air before she thinks to start digging?

He can hear the footsteps behind him.

All he can do is go faster.

Faster.

Faster.

He has to get to the tunnel. It will only take a quarter of an hour to crawl through to the back wall of the tomb, where he will finally dig through to her side, inside the tomb, and get her out, and then together they'll crawl back through the tunnel and disappear while it is still dark.

They've arranged for a safe hiding place for the night, where they will wait until Sabina's sister, Claudia, brings the baby in the morning, along with her half of the Memory Stones, and they'll spend the rest of their lives with Rome behind them.

Through the thick curtain of the centuries, Josh heard Gabriella saying, “Hurry, he's been shot. He's bleeding.”

He turns the corner and sees the thugs waiting for him. They must have figured out which way he was running and come around the other side to cut him off. There are six of them. Laughing and spitting out their rough epithets. He can't turn back. The only chance he has is to do what they won't expect.

Julius gulps down a huge mouthful of air and then takes off, running faster than he thought he'd be able to, almost flying, speeding right toward them, not caring that they aren't moving. They will. Their instincts will push them to the right or to the left and he'll slip through.

He sees a knife flash, but he doesn't let it stop him.

Sabina is waiting. She can't have much air left.

He runs faster.

They are laughing.

“Your temple is gone, do you know that?”

“All of them, gone.”

He runs at them, but he was wrong. One of them isn't stepping aside. He lunges forward.

The blade flashes.

Julius feels the pain. Doubles over. Gags. They all laugh, congratulate one another. One of them kicks him. Blood drips from the wound in his side, black in the night. One of them sees it, though, and points.

“He's making a sacrifice to his gods, his blood on the altar. Let the stuck pig go, let him bleed to death.”

They leave. Sound leaves. Julius stands up, staggers. The pain makes him double over. It doesn't matter. It is only a minor irritation, a nuisance. He has to get to the tunnel he dug himself. He has to crawl through it and save Sabina, who is waiting for him to rescue her so they can, together, rescue their daughter, and together, the three of them, start a new life, so he stumbles on.

Gabriella was calling his name. “Josh? Josh? Can you hear me?”

He looked up at her, wanting so badly to stay in the present with her.

“Josh?” She was holding Quinn in her arms. The little girl stared down at him. There was a flame in the child's wide eyes, burning into him, and Quinn was whimpering. “Daddy, Daddy, nooooo. Daddy, noooo.”

Julius can see Sabina holding their baby in the minutes before she passed her over to her sister. He had bent down over his child—a goodbye. Her eyes looked up at him. There was a flame in her fierce eyes, burning into him. How could such a tiny baby look at him like that? he'd thought.