Henrik nods, a smirk at the corner of his mouth. "It does."
"Deacon," Jude says, "I'm begging you."
I give Jude the tiniest moment of attention, but it's enough for Henrik, who moves much too fast for a man of his size. In one motion he grabs the barrel and turns the gun over and out of my hand, bending my wrist at a horribly unnatural angle. The pain is searing.
I jump and kick the gun out of his hand, sending it to the ground. A single errant round fires off. I don't know where the bullet lands.
I dive for the gun, sliding roughly across the concrete stage. As soon as my fingers reach it, Henrik jerks hard on my ankles, pulling me toward him like a ragdoll. I flip my body over and swing my fist hard across his jaw.
The pain is tremendous. My hands feel as if they're on fire, but I have no choice but to punch him again. It's useless, though, like punching steel. His weight atop me is crushing.
Henrik smiles wide, his mouth flooded with blood, and cries, "Again! Again!"
I scream furiously and lurch my body upward, smashing his nose with my head. Henrik recoils to cup his bloody nose. He may be large, but he isn't invincible. He's just a man, and all men fear pain.
I jump to my feet and rush the fool. I lift my boot high and bring it down sharply on the crown of his head. My hands may be useless, but my legs are more than game for this fight. I plant one foot and use the other to kick his jaw like a soccer ball. Blood spews from his mouth like a volcano spitting hot lava. I let out a fiery cry of passion and kick Henrik again. His head bounces grossly and unconsciously against the ground. I kick him again and again.
The amphitheater roars with delight.
Time slows as I raise my head and take in the bizarre, dreamlike scene. Every man in the amphitheater has risen to his feet. They're a pack of rabid dogs worked into a feeding frenzy. They holler. They pump their fists high in the air. Some embrace each other, smiling as if they've conquered the Kingdom. Many pull off their shirts and swing them insanely above their heads. Others howl like wolves at the moon.
Then the chanting starts. It takes my brain too long to understand what they're saying, but when I do, I shudder.
"Messiah," they chant. "Messiah."
Then they lift me to their shoulders.
ude and I make it back to the park just after sunrise.
Once the men hoisted me in the air, time began to move very fast, and before I knew it, morning had nearly arrived. It was extremely difficult to leave the men, especially after their plan was explained to me, but I insisted we return.
Even now, knowing what I must do, I can't bear the thought of letting Maria down—of abandoning her. I desperately need to see her this morning so I can explain my intentions. I'll need her to agree with the plan, and then Jude says I can unveil the life she and I will live together once this is all over. Because it's not true, after all, that my fate is sealed. I don't have to die to see my people freed. Some of us will die—that much is certain—but others of us are destined for roles so great that our deaths must be postponed.
I'm one such person. I see that now. It's what my father wanted.
The plan is ingenious, but it'll take a great deal of work—work I'm ready and able to do. I'm still unsure whether I'm "the One" our people have waited for, but the men are certain of it. Still it's a strange thing to think about oneself—that I'm the hope of an entire people, the One that God sent to make things right. The One prophesied about in the Scripture. Yet I can't deny the puzzle pieces are fitting together.
Jude and I hide the bikes in the brush and make our way back to where the Teacher and the others were sleeping near the lake. But when we arrive, they're gone.
"Where did they go?" I say.
"Relax," Jude says. "The Teacher often starts very early, rising with the sun. He's probably just trying to escape the crowds. He never stays in one place for long, which, as you've probably surmised, will be a challenge for our plan. The Teacher's schedule is unpredictable."
"I need to find Maria now" I say.
"Easy." Jude yawns and lies down in the grass. "You need to sleep. Rest now, and we'll catch up with the others this afternoon."
"You can sleep, but I'm going to find them."
"Suit yourself," Jude says, closing his eyes. "They're probably on the other side of the lake."
It takes me an hour to find them, but I finally do. It turns out the Teacher is more famous than I realized, which makes it relatively easy to locate him. I hitched a ride with some fishermen across the lake; they told me the Teacher had crossed it earlier with his students. I gave them each a hundred Worlds, and they fed me a breakfast of fish and black coffee.
Once I'm on the other side, they're easy to find. Judging by the size of the crowd, one would think King Charles himself had come to Oxford. I snake my way through the thick drove until I can see and hear the Teacher.
A boy in dirty clothes stands next to me. I ask him, "What is he teaching today?"
The boy, in an excited voice, says, "He's just appointed twelve men to whom he has granted authority. They too will cast out demons and proclaim the message."
"What do you make of this man, the one they call the Teacher?"
"Some say he's gone out of his mind," the boy says. "The religious authorities—those men down there." He points to a group of serious-looking men garbed in the flowing robes of the religious authorities. "They just shouted that the Teacher is Beelzebub, and as the ruler of the demons, he casts out demons."
"And what do you—"
"Shh!" the boy says, putting a finger to his lips. "I'm trying to listen!"
"How can Satan cast out Satan?" the Teacher says loudly, looking directly at the angry-looking religious authorities. "If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come." The Teacher moves his gaze with pointed precision, somehow finding my eyes among all these people. Then he says to me and only me, "But no one can enter a strong man's house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered."
The boy turns to me and, with a tremble in his voice, says, "I think he's talking to—"
"Me," I say, a fresh wave of terror washing over me. "He's talking to me."
I want to run, but fear paralyzes me. Last night I faced a giant without an ounce of dread, but one glare from the Teacher and I become tepid as a child.
Fortunately the Teacher spares me any further attention and carries on with his teaching, directing his message toward the larger gathering of people. I search the crowd for Maria but don't find her. After a time the Teacher is interrupted when someone from the crowd says, "Your mother and your brothers and sisters have been asking for you."
"And who are my mother and my brothers?" The Teacher looks at those seated nearest to him. "Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother." The crowd cheers with delight, and I can't help compare the uproar with the cries of the men I heard the night before. Their cry was for battle. The harder I kicked the Nordic giant, the louder those men roared. But the people of the park cheer for family and unity. Their voices are a sweet, if not naive, offertory to the one true God.
It enrages me. How can the Teacher deny his family, the very fabric of his being? What I wouldn't give to have one second with my mother and father. And here the Teacher brushes his family off as if they're expendable shreds of garbage. I'm on the verge of voicing my anger when I find Maria.
She's seated on the ground not far from the Teacher. She looks my way as soon as my eyes fall upon her. Her black eyes glisten when she sees me, and her smile brightens the already blue-and-gold sky. She's radiant in the morning sun. We stare at each other for a long while as the Teacher speaks, but I don't hear a word of what he says.
I have no idea how long this goes on before the scre
ams of children bring me back to reality. The screaming grows louder as people scatter, gathering children in their arms and running in every direction.
Black clouds appear from nowhere, and a lightning bolt flashes across the sky before a roll of thunder shakes the earth. "What's happening?" I say to the boy who stands bravely next to me. "What is it? What's going on?"
He points to a figure moving in the distance. "There," he says. "The monster from the tombs."
"Who?"
"I don't know his name, only that he used to live among the tombs in the country of the Gerasenes and that he couldn't be restrained. Chains and shackles do nothing to him. He breaks them all. I'm told he can't be killed."
"All men can be killed," I say.
"That's the problem, sir. He's not a man."
"Then what is he?"
"I told you...a monster."
"I don't believe in monsters."
"You will soon."
he boy is right.
I know because I've already met this monster.
I move against the tide of people and call out to Maria, but she can't hear me over the commotion. I see Miles take her by the arm, and they vanish into the crowd. I keep moving, shoving people where I have to, until I see the Teacher emerge from the sea of people.
He's walking out to meet Legion.
I run after him.
Legion bows before the Teacher and, in his awful hiss of a voice, spits out, "What have you to do with me, Teacher, son of the most high God? I adjure you by God, do not torment me."
As if meeting a new friend, the Teacher says, "What is your name?"
"My name is Legion! For we are many!"
"Teacher!" I say, running up behind him. "Teacher, it's me, Deacon." The Teacher and Legion pay me a quick glance before directing their attention back to each other. "Teacher, I..."
The Teacher waves his hand in the air, and my tongue freezes; I literally can't speak. It feels like my tongue has ballooned to the size of my hand.
"Please!" Legion screams, his voice sounding entirely different now, like that of a hoarse old man. Then it changes again, this time sounding like the squeal of a tiny girl. It happens again, then again, until a multitude of voices simultaneously explode out of him. They scream, "Don't send us away! We can't go back! We can't go back! We can't go back! Keep us here!" The cacophony of voices is the shrillest sound I've ever heard. I put my hands to my ears to mute the noise, but it's pointless. "Send us into the swine!" they howl. "Let us enter them. Give us the swine to torment!"
The Teacher says, "Come out of the man, you unclean spirits!"
At these words Legion falls limply to the ground, as if he's suffered a massive heart attack. He doesn't move. An invisible cloud of sound travels away from his body and near the lake, where young men are herding pigs. The pigs squeal horribly before stampeding away. They run off a small cliff and fall into the lake below.
Then there's silence.
One of the few townsmen who stayed behind to witness this event, points at the Teacher and says, "You, Teacher, must leave this place. You...are not welcome here. Take your students and leave. Please."
Other people, seeing that Legion has become calm, flood back into the area, echoing what this man has just said. The entire crowd, which moments before had been captivated by the Teacher, now demands his departure. They want no part of whatever power tamed Legion and killed those pigs.
The Teacher ignores their requests and moves closer to Legion, just as he did with the leper, showing no fear.
"Teacher," I say slowly, my tongue returning to its normal size. "I know this man. He's your enemy and can't be trusted."
"Maria told me what he did to you," the Teacher says. "Are you afraid of him?"
"He...has immense power, but no, I fear no man."
The Teacher laughs softly. "Suit yourself." He pats Legion's cheek as if comforting a child and asks me, "This man threatened your life?"
"He tried to," I say.
"And if he came for you? What would you do?"
"Fight him," I say defiantly. "Kill him."
The Teacher lifts his eyes, and I see a new kind of sadness in them. He notices me favoring my swollen wrist, which I've wrapped tightly with a bandage the fishermen gave me. "You seem to have an affinity for violence."
"Not violence," I say. "Justice."
"You're no match for Legion," the Teacher says bluntly.
"Maybe not before." I motion to his limp body lying on the ground.
The Teacher helps Legion to his feet. His legs shake beneath him, and I'm surprised to see there is light in his eyes and a red flush to his skin. He's a handsome, ruddy man, which makes me angry. "Teacher," Legion says, "please...take me with you. Let me be your student. Let me follow your way."
The Teacher smiles proudly at him, happy with the job he's done. "You may follow the way but in your own time. Go home and rest for now. You've been through a great ordeal, and the time has come for your family and friends to care for you. Go home and tell them how much the Lord has done for you and what mercy he has shown you."
"But Teacher, I have no family in this country. You mustn't...please take me with you. I have no one."
Legion weeps and falls to his knees. I'm embarrassed for him.
"You have my decision," the Teacher says. "Following now would be too strenuous for you; trust me. There's great trouble ahead. Now go and take your leave. There are good and righteous people in this town who'll provide for you."
If I didn't hate Legion so much, I might feel sorry him. The entire city thinks he's mad, and now he has nowhere to turn and no one to love him. The Teacher clearly doesn't know what he's talking about. Everyone in Oxford is terrified of Legion; there isn't a soul within a hundred miles who'll take him into their home. But that's not my problem. The best news is that he's lost control of his dark powers.
Which means I could kill him if I wanted to.
And I do.
The Teacher leaves us and returns to where his remaining students are seated. I kneel and whisper into Legion's ear, "Hey, old friend." I slap his cheek, just as the Teacher did, and run my hand through his greasy hair. Then I pull on it sharply, tearing a clump of hair loose from the roots. Legion flinches, and I grab another chunk and yank harder. "You nearly killed me," I say.
"Please," Legions whispers, tears streaming down his exhausted, filthy face. "I'm a broken man."
"You have no idea what 'broken' is," I say. "But I look forward to showing you." I release my grip, but a few matted hairs stick to my fingers. "I'm taking Maria away from this place. We're going to start a new life together, a world away from you. I'm going to give her the life she deserves, the one you robbed her of, you sorry sack of—"
"Deacon!"
I turn sharply to see Maria glaring down at me, holding a hand over her mouth.
I stand up. "Maria, I'm sorry I was gone this morning, but I can explain everything to you. I have great news."
She rushes toward me. "I thought maybe yesterday was a dream." Her black eyes glimmer. "You were here one second and gone the next."
"Never," I say. "I'm never leaving you. I have to go back to the Office of Record this morning, but after I explain why—"
She shakes her head furiously. "No. It's not safe there, especially for you. You can't go there. You'll be arrested. You'll never make it out of that building."
"Trust me," I say. "I know what I'm doing, but I need you to stay close to Miles and the Teacher while I'm gone. Things are going to heat up in the next days, but after that..." I pull Maria's face close to mine and whisper, "We'll go south. Just the two of us, OK?"
"Deacon—"
"Shh," I say, kissing her forehead. "If you can trust me, we'll have everything we've ever wanted."
"Deacon." Maria places her hands on my chest.
"What is it?"
She takes a deep breath, and I know something is terribly wrong.
"I'm leaving the Teacher."
"I don't
understand," I say.
She nods tenderly toward Legion. "He has no one."
"Which is who he deserves...no one"
"No one...but me."
"You're the last person on earth he deserves! Was this even your idea? No...it was the Teacher's, wasn't it?"
The Teacher is off in the distance, lecturing to another eager but smaller crowd.
I shout to him, "Was this your idea?" He gives me a brief look of dismissal before returning his attention to his rapt audience. "Did the Teacher put you up to this?" I ask Maria.
"What sort of woman would I be if I left him? He'll die, Deacon."
Legion, who's still kneeling at my feet, begins to stand up. I plant my boot on his hand and dig down until I hear bones crunch. "Who cares?" I say. "Have you forgotten that he tried to kill me yesterday? As in, like, less than twenty-four hours ago? And now you want to...what? Forget our plans so you can nurse him back to health? Let him die!"
Maria begins to cry. "Deacon...you're so angry. I wish you'd harness your passion for something bigger."
I curse and spit on the ground. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Maria. Don't leave me. I'm begging you."
Maria cries harder. Everything in me tells me to apologize and take her in my arms. Just like when I saw her in the Office of Record, all I want to do is make it better. Yet I don't embrace her. Instead I stand still, like a centurion at attention, and watch her suffer.
Finally she says, "The Teacher says the whole law and all the prophets can be summed up in a single commandment."
"I wish the Teacher would do less talking and more doing."
"Love others as you love yourself," she says. "That's what he teaches the people. Did you know that?"
"It's impossible to love another person as much as yourself," I say. "It can't be done."
"Maybe not," Maria admits, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. "But we can try, can't we?"
"What about me?" I say, taking her by the shoulders and drawing her close. "Don't I deserve your love? What makes Legion so damn important?"
"This man was my husband." She lowers her voice. "We shared a bed." I dig my heel harder into Legion's hand, and he moans. "I know he's done terrible things," Maria says, "but I also know that if it weren't for the Teacher's generosity, I wouldn't have made it. I can't live with myself unless I do the same for Alejandro. We must extend mercy."
Centurion: Mark's Gospel as a Thriller Page 10