Dead Sea Rising

by Jerry B. Jenkins

Nicole knew her mother was awake, yet still she had not been able to talk to her. She’d seen her mother’s alleged lunch—soup, Jell-O, crackers, and ginger ale—and was sure she’d heard Mom ask for her when it was delivered.

  She found it maddening to have to sit in the hall until Wojciechowski showed up. But at least he was bringing her dad. Nicole looked up every time she heard the elevator doors. The most recent one had brought the surgeon, Dr. Thorn, and she stopped him before he went in. The uniform cops slid in front of the door as she approached the doctor. She could only shake her head. Protecting a mother from her own daughter?

  “This is ridiculous,” she told Dr. Thorn. “I get why you had to report what you did, but couldn’t you have tempered it with what you told me? It wouldn’t take five minutes to clear my father and me if you just stipulated that nothing my mother has said so far has any credibility.”

  “That’ll be in my full report in the end,” Dr. Thorn said. “They tell me she’s much more articulate now, which is encouraging.”

  “She was agitated and looked like she needed more rest,” Nicole said.

  Dr. Thorn nodded. “She needed to be calmed to reduce her pulse.”

  “Did the medication hurt her?”

  “No. It just delayed the waning of the anesthesia. I’ll administer some simple cognitive tests to find out where she is mentally.”

  “May I join you?” Nicole said.

  “No, you may not!” the woman cop said.

  “If it were up to me, sure,” the doctor said. “Guess you have to wait for their detective and take it up with him.”

  As Dr. Thorn entered her mother’s room, Nicole heard the elevator again and whirled to see her father with Detective Wojciechowski and Kayla Jefferson. She had a niggling feeling she owed Kayla an apology. She hoped the young woman hadn’t taken anything personally and understood Nicole’s stress over her mother.

  She and her father embraced fiercely, and he whispered, “How’s this for an unplanned weekend?” He turned to the detective. “Can we get in there now?”

  “We can,” Wojciechowski said, “but do me a favor. Ask her anything you want, but don’t talk to each other. Got it?”

  Nicole nodded. “Afraid we’re going to conspire?”

  Wojciechowski clearly didn’t find that funny. “Remember, I don’t have to let you in yet. This is a privilege.”

  Kayla said, “Dr. Berman, I’ll be delivering your father’s bags now, but I just wanted to tell you I was serious about what I said yesterday. About joining a dig team someday?”

  “Oh, yeah, okay.”

  “Sorry, I know you have other things on your mind right now.”

  Good thinking.

  Nicole felt as if she and her father were following Wojciechowski into the Forbidden City. As soon as her mother saw them, she burst into tears.

  CHAPTER 40

  Ur

  “Glory to the gods!” Ikuppi said. “What good fortune has been bestowed upon your wife, Terah!”

  “Yes, glory to the gods, but I cannot go! I can barely move. How soon does Yadidatum think the baby will come?”

  “This afternoon for sure,” Wedum said.

  “Ikuppi, you must go now and bring them here.”

  “Who?”

  “Belessunu and the midwife! She must have the baby here.”

  “Oh, Terah, no! That would be foolhardy.”

  Terah scowled at him. “It is not a request, Ikuppi. Wedum will lead you and also fetch blankets and pillows to make her comfortable for the journey back.”

  “Terah! There is nothing comfortable about a chariot ride over this terrain.”

  “It’s less than half a mile, man. But do not bring her servant girls back. I want no one else to see me.”

  “Your wife was in great distress, master,” Wedum said. “I don’t know if we would get there in time to—”

  “Then go!”

  “Yadidatum may forbid—”

  “The midwife is also a servant, is she not?” Terah hissed. “And with her son in danger for his life, she dare not cross me. She will do what I say! Be gone!”

  As the men hurried out the door, Terah called after Ikuppi, “Prepare them both for what I look like!”

  As soon as Ikuppi and Wedum charged off in the king’s chariot, regret overwhelmed Terah. What had he done? He could not abide losing a newborn, even if it was a male who would be sentenced to death anyway. And Belessunu! Regardless of their disagreements, even over matters as weighty as what gods they believed in, she meant everything to him. Serving the king had become profitable, and Terah was known, respected, even feared throughout the realm. But Belessunu was his whole life. He would give up all the rest for her. But now he risked her life, and for what?

  CHAPTER 41

  Manhattan

  “Benz!” Nicole’s mother reached for her father.

  Nicole and her father shared a knowing glance. That was what her grandmother had called him, not what her mother had ever used for him.

  “You’re back already? Weren’t you to be in Paris for another—”

  “With you in here, Ginny? Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away.”

  “Oh, I spoiled your trip.”

  “Yeah, you know how I love to travel.”

  “Tell me you’ve both come with news!”

  “News?” Nicole said.

  “Don’t tease,” her mother said. “Nicole’s license has come through, hasn’t it?”

  “Still waiting, Mom,” Nicole said. “Believe me, you will be the first to know.”

  “Sorry,” Dr. Thorn said, “let me finish up here, then she’s all yours.”

  “Will I be in the way if I hold her hand?” her father asked.

  “Not at all. Now, Mrs. Berman, can you count backward from one hundred for me in a series of sevens?”

  “Backward from one hundred in sevens. Sure. One hundred, ninety-three, eighty-six, seventy-nine, seventy-two, sixty-five, fifty—”

  “Very good, that’s fine.”

  “She’s a numbers gal, aren’t you, babe? That was easy.”

  Dr. Thorn sighed and raised his brows at Nicole’s dad.

  “Sorry,” her father said.

  “Now, Virginia, if you could tell me the months of the year in reverse order …”

  “December, November, October, September, um, August—”

  “Good. One more. Spell world backward for me.”

  “W-O-R-L-D-B-A-C—I’m teasing you, Doctor. I knew what you meant. D-L-R-O-W.”

  “Very funny. Now, just tell me what you remember about coming here. What happened, why you’re here, what we’ve done for you, anything you can remember.”

  “Okay, ah, what’s today?”

  “You don’t know what day it is?”

  “Well, I feel as if I’ve lost a day.”

  “That’s not unusual, Virginia. Do you remember what day it was when you arrived here?”

  “Friday.”

  “Correct. What do you remember about Friday?”

  “I woke up in an ambulance with no idea what I was doing there. My hips hurt and my legs felt numb. I kept wanting to sleep and people kept asking my name, date of birth, that kind of thing. Someone said Teo had called them and said I broke my hip.”

  “And Teo is?”

  “Our new housekeeper.”

  “Teodora,” Nicole said.

  Dr. Thorn glanced at her. “Let her answer, please.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Teodora Petrova,” her mother said. “I guess she found me on the floor. I don’t remember any of that. They did a bunch of tests that really hurt, and I remember thinking that at least my legs weren’t numb anymore and I kind of wished they were. Then I met you, I think. Did I meet you?”

  “You did. And I explained that I was going to operate on you. I tried to tell you everything and what you might expect. You recall any of that?”

  “Sorry.”

  Nicole’s mother looked embarrassed, perhaps worried.
>
  “Don’t let that concern you, Virginia,” Dr. Thorn said. “Anesthesia often acts as an amnesiac. Some of what occurred between your MRI and x-rays may or may not come back to you in time. Tell me whatever you can recall, from meeting me until right now.”

  Nicole’s mother appeared to concentrate. “It seems that was the day before yesterday. Was it?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it probably wasn’t. If you operated on me the day I got here, and I woke up in time for lunch, today is probably Saturday.”

  “Very good. Anything else from surgery till now?”

  Her mom sighed and let her head fall back on the pillow. “Not really. Just …”

  “Take your time.”

  “Well, it wasn’t anything that was said or that actually happened.”

  “That’s all right. What was it?”

  “I just recall hoping Nicole would come to me. I wanted to ask if anyone had called her, but I don’t think I did.”

  Nicole said, “You don’t remember that I—”

  She caught herself when the doctor looked sharply at her.

  “I’m so glad you’re here now, Nic.”

  “So you remember waking in the ambulance, getting a couple of painful tests, meeting me but not recalling what I said …”

  “And waking up here, seems like about an hour ago.”

  Nicole was heartbroken that her mother was unaware that she had rushed to her side as soon as she’d heard. But she was also relieved her mother seemed to recall nothing of the nonsense in the middle of the night.

  Dr. Thorn told Nicole’s mother that he would be releasing her to her private room where her family could stay with her and that he would be checking in on her periodically.

  When he was gone, Detective Wojciechowski handed her his card and said, “My turn, Virginia—may I call you Virginia?”

  She squinted at the card and asked for her glasses. “Sure. And you are?”

  A nurse produced a white plastic bag, and Nicole’s mother rooted through it. As she was slipping on her glasses, Wojciechowski said, “I go by George, or GW. Some of the guys call me G-Dub.”

  Smooth. He had hammered Nicole like his prime suspect and now he was sweet-talking the victim.

  CHAPTER 42

  Ur

  Terah fretted, unable to pace, his injuries having left him stiff and sore. He chose not to rise from his chair even to retrieve his cup of water a few feet away. And he needed it, his throat parched from desperately praying aloud. Was it sacrilegious to pray to his idols from where he sat? Could they understand he would kneel before them again if he were able?

  What kind of a man am I, insisting my beloved wife be delivered here on the verge of giving birth? “Oh, gods of the universe,” he cried out, “forgive me and spare her, and if you give us a son, I will accept it as my just punishment.”

  Time seemed to crawl as Terah assessed how long Ikuppi and Wedum had been gone. Surely their only hope of getting Belessunu back safely was to gather her up quickly and set out at once. The less than half mile from the servants’ dwellings to his home should take only minutes in one of the king’s own chariots pulled by three powerful horses and led by a master charioteer. But of course Ikuppi would have to drive carefully.

  They should have been here long ago, Terah knew, and he descended into morbid imaginings. He envisioned Belessunu giving birth before they even got to her. Would they then not let her rest, fearing his wrath, and bring her, the baby, and the midwife back?

  Or had she fought returning and they felt obligated to take her by force? “Please, worshipful gods! Not that! Do not let my folly bring harm to her or the baby!”

  The longer Terah waited, the worse became his anguish. He heard nothing, saw nothing out the window, his angle not allowing a view far down the road. He felt he would go mad if he did not somehow will himself upright so he could step outside and peer all the way to the horizon. When his wife arrived, in whatever condition, he would beg her forgiveness, pledge himself to her anew, and do whatever was necessary to protect his family, whether that included a son or a daughter.

  He forced himself up onto the crutch, swayed, wobbled, and finally stepped haltingly to reach his cup and drink greedily. But now the door was even farther away, and three strides when he was healthy became an ordeal he did not relish.

  With leg and crutch sharing the load, Terah dragged his mangled ankle into position but couldn’t let it even touch the floor without agony. It took several minutes to reach the door, and the complicated dance of managing the crutch, protecting the ankle, and opening the door nearly ended him.

  Finally Terah was able to lean against the doorframe and position himself to see all the way to the horizon. In shimmering heat waves that rose from the packed-down wheel lanes built up from all the travel, Terah conjured images that simply would not materialize. He saw a cloud of dust that had to be caused by the chariot, but it faded. Was that a group walking? Regardless what his mind invented, nothing was really there. He told himself that not as much time had passed as he feared, but he knew better. Something must have gone terribly wrong.

  Terah turned to try to make it back to his chair, but somehow his bad ankle had angled wrong. He found himself between the door and the frame, unable to move unless he put weight on the ankle. Dizzy and angry, he had to act despite the agony.

  He set his bad foot as flat as he could on the clay and twisted himself to where he could quickly shift his weight back to his other leg and the crutch. Pressure on the ankle would be brief but excruciating. His sandal had grown tight on the swollen foot, and Terah hated to even look at it. Finally he mustered all his resolve and executed the maneuver.

  He shrieked at what felt like a sword driven from the sole of his foot to his shin, but when he caught himself on his good leg, the crutch hit the clay at the wrong angle and slid from under him, rolling away. Terah hopped, desperate to keep pressure off the ankle, and lunged to keep himself upright by grabbing the door, but it swung shut on his hand, smashing his fingers.

  He yanked his hand away, which threw him off-balance and toward the floor. Terah’s bad foot involuntarily shot out to catch his fall and took all his weight. His leg gave way, pain forcing his eyes shut as he crashed to the floor, smashing his nose flat.

  CHAPTER 43

  Manhattan

  “Wojciechowski,” Nicole’s mother read from the detective’s card.

  “You pronounced it right!” he said. “Nobody does that.”

  “My husband has Poles in his background,” she said. “That’s not an unusual name in Poland.”

  “Well, my great-grandfather came to this country from Danzig. Story is, he absolutely refused to let ’em mess with his name at Ellis Island. He wound up in Chicago, so that’s where most of our family is. Except his oldest son, my grandpa, somehow got back to New York.”

  Nicole’s mother still stared his card. “And you’re with the police department. Have I done something wrong?”

  Nicole noticed a twinkle in her mother’s eye that Wojciechowski clearly missed. “Oh, no, ma’am. But I need to tell you, someone did something very wrong to you.”

  “To me?” The gleam had disappeared.

  Wojciechowski told her what the doctor had reported. “No doubt you were assaulted, Mrs. Berman. Your injuries don’t match a trip and fall.”

  “‘Senior Services and Domestic Violence Unit,’” she read. “George …”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Grant me a bit of vanity, will you? You know I only barely qualify as a senior citi—”

  “I’m aware, Virginia. But I’m honored to serve as lead investigator on your case anyway.”

  To Nicole her mother seemed herself again.

  “But I gotta ask you somethin’,” Wojciechowski said. “I just told you you’d been assaulted, which I’m gonna assume was news to you.”

  “It certainly was.”

  “And your response—if you don’t mind my sayin’ s
o—was you tryin’ to be funny. You know what that sounds like to me?”

  She shook her head, looking suddenly sobered.

  “That sounds like deflection. You seem like a smart, uh, cultured lady. I know your daughter and your husband now, a coupla smart people.”

  “Oh, yes, they’re—”

  “And I’m tryin’ to clear them as what we call people of interest in this attack, so we can start look—”

  “Oh, no, they would never—”

  “Routine, ma’am, standard operating procedure. Now, call me overly suspicious, but I been doin’ this for a lotta years and I’m guessing you’ve never been attacked before.”

  “Correct.”

  “So it’s gotta be a shock to find this out.”

  “Well, yes.”

  “But instead of reacting like you’re even surprised, you crack wise about vanity and bein’ a senior citizen. That’s strange. That’s deflection.”

  “Deflecting what?”

  “My job makes me wonder. I’m thinking maybe you want me laughin’ at your comments—funny, don’t get me wrong—so I quit looking at your husband or your daughter for this.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Ur

  Terah lay sprawled on the clay floor, blood gushing from his nose. Angry with himself for thinking he could accomplish something beyond his strength, he also dreaded that Belessunu would see him like this at the most vulnerable time of her life. He attempted to get to his knees, but now nothing worked.

  He tried holding his nostrils shut, hoping the blood would clot, but no. Terah hunched himself into a position where he could support his ravaged face in the crook of his arm, but all that served was to soak his sleeve with blood. It was all he could do to stanch his tears. Chief officer of the king of the realm, in authority over everyone but Nimrod himself, and here he lay, decimated and blubbering in an expanding puddle of his own blood.

  Terah looked bad enough before this last disaster. He could have calmed his wife, assured her he would heal in due time and return to full health. But now he couldn’t be sure. And would she ever be able to erase from her memory the sight of him lying here?

  Terah simply could not move. If Ikuppi and Wedum ever did arrive with Belessunu, she would have to be their top priority until Yadidatum could superintend the birth. Only then would they be able to somehow collect him from the floor and get him cleaned up again. The last thing he wanted was to distract his wife from her own ordeal. He just hoped he hadn’t already caused her some irreversible trauma.