The Scroll

by Grant R. Jeffrey

  Chambers stretched one arm forward, looking for something he could grab and use to pull himself a little farther along, but found only emptiness. He tried again. Then again. This time he pulled his arm back and felt the base of the tunnel drop off. He crawled forward another half meter until he reached the ledge. The passageway widened slightly, enough for him to roll on his belly. He picked up the flashlight he had been pushing along and let the beam scan the area.

  Chambers stopped breathing.

  “David?” Amber’s voice sounded miles away.

  Chambers blinked several times, then scanned the area again. He lowered his head and tears fell, swallowed by dust that had seen no moisture in centuries.

  “David. Answer me. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Better than all right.”

  “You sound … funny.”

  He chuckled, then laughed. A moment later, he filled the tunnel with the sound of laughter. His laughter filled the cavern before him.

  “He’s lost his mind?” Landau said.

  “You might be right, Landau,” Chambers shouted. “Amber, get in here. Landau, get the men out of the tunnel and secure the area. And I mean SECURE it. Got it?”

  He heard something.

  Shouting.

  A gunshot.

  Then a scream.

  “Amber!”

  Then he heard someone scrambling through the access tunnel.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Chambers wiggled forward, thankful that a short set of stairs was before him. The staircase had maybe six or seven steps. He hadn’t had time to determine if they were safe to use. All he knew was there was more room in the cavern than in the narrow tunnel.

  The stairs held, and he took his flashlight in hand like a club. He heard huffing, puffing, and groaning. A woman’s voice.

  “David.” Amber.

  Another gunshot, then three in rapid succession.

  He shone the light down the opening and saw her safety helmet, its small bulb shining light on surfaces just a few inches away.

  Another shot.

  “David!”

  A hand. Chambers grabbed it and pulled. Amber let out a small cry of pain as he pulled her from the cramped confines into the dark cavern. She landed hard on the stone steps. Chambers kept a tight grip so Amber wouldn’t roll off the edge of the stairway or down the steps.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Hush,” she said. “Men. Gunmen. Came up the tunnel. Landau. He started shooting back. Before I knew it, he had shoved me into the crevice. The workers ran back to the entrance. I think … I think some of them may have been wounded.”

  “Why would they run toward … Wait, you said the men came ‘up’ the tunnel?”

  “Yes, from the other direction.”

  “The tunnel ends near Jericho. It would take hours to make their way up this direction. They’d have to cover ten miles up grade.”

  “I can’t explain it, David. I just know I was shot at.”

  The pop, pop, pop of a handgun rolled through the access tunnel and into the cavern. “What about the other security? Surely Landau called for them.”

  “I don’t know. He pushed me into the tunnel before I could figure out what was happening. I didn’t wait to ask questions.”

  “Wise. Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Down the steps.”

  “What is this place?”

  “We’ll figure that out later. Right now, I want us away from this opening.”

  He let her descend first, placing himself between her and whatever might come through the narrow tunnel.

  “Where do I go?”

  He took her arm and guided her around the stairs. “This way.”

  “What’s over here?”

  “I have no idea.”

  More shots sounded. Chambers could hear not only the report of the weapons but the ping of bullets ricocheting off stone walls. He knew nothing about weapons, but he could distinguish the rapid fire of an automatic weapon and that of a handgun. There was more of the former and less of the latter, and that didn’t bode well. Landau had a handgun.

  Chambers extinguished his helmet light and flashlight. Amber did the same. The darkness became profound, almost tangible. It felt as if the darkness was crawling on his skin, looking for a point of entrance.

  More shots. Yelling. Cries of pain. It seemed a world away; it seemed inches away. Chambers took Amber in his arms and felt her quiver. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from all harm, but if armed men came in, he would be able to do neither.

  The sounds died. The gunfire ended. The shouting ceased. Minutes passed like epochs. Then a scrapping, scuffling, scurrying sound.

  “What’s that?” Amber pressed deeper into David’s arms.

  “I don’t know.” He let go and felt his way to the stairs. “Stay here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Stay here, I said. Keep your light off.”

  “But—”

  “For once, just do as I say.” He scrambled up the steps, feeling for each riser with one hand, holding his flashlight with the other, and being careful to land each foot squarely on the stone treads. Dim light seeped from the opening, and Chambers headed straight for it.

  He saw movement.

  He saw a shadow.

  Stopping where the top step met narrow ledge, Chambers paused and slowly raised his dark flashlight.

  Scrapping, scrabbling, grunting.

  A hand appeared. It held a pistol. Chambers raised the metal flashlight, readying it like a weapon.

  A man oozed from the tunnel like toothpaste from a tube. Chambers started his swing.

  “Hey Doc?”

  Landau.

  The flashlight missed Landau’s head by inches.

  “Yeow!” A string of curses followed the exclamation. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you.” Chambers helped him up. “Watch your step. There’s about a two-meter drop-off.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t push me off the edge.”

  “I said I was sorry. What happened out there?”

  “Sneak attack. They weren’t wearing uniforms, but they acted like military, at least military trained.”

  “And?”

  “Dead. There were five of them. Automatic weapons. T-89s.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It’s an assault rifle. Good thing I heard them coming.”

  “What about the workers? Are they okay?”

  “No. They were cut down. There’s no way to outrun a bullet, not in a tunnel. I ducked into the side tunnel and fired from there.”

  Chambers turned his helmet light on and directed it at Landau. “Your shoulder. You’re wounded.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “The blood gives it away. Let me see.”

  “Forget that for now. It’s not much, probably just a rock fragment.” He pressed on the wound enough to make Chambers wince just watching. “I don’t feel anything in it. Blood is minimal. I’m fine for now. Where’s Dr. Rodgers?”

  “Down here.”

  Landau held out his hand. “Let me have your flashlight.”

  “It’s kinda busted.”

  “Great. Then lead me down the stairs.”

  A few moments later the three were standing in the light of Chambers’s and Amber’s helmet lights.

  “What is this place?”

  “I don’t know yet, but you can bet your paycheck there are some amazing things to be found here.”

  Landau nodded. “Okay, there will be time for that later. As soon as I know there aren’t more bad guys headed our way, I need to get you out of here. When I hear from my men, we’re going to exit as quickly as possible.”

  “What about the dead?” Chambers asked.

  “That’s my problem. I just want to get you far away from here.”

  “I don’t understand,” Amber said. “How did they know about the tunnel and that we
were here?”

  Chambers answered. “I wrote about the tunnel. Two scholarly articles and a chapter in my last book. I also did a few talk shows. As to how they knew we were in here, I don’t know.”

  “Someone is feeding them information. Whoever someone is.”

  “But who?” Amber moved close to Chambers and took his arm.

  “It’s impossible to tell at the moment,” Landau said, “but I’m working on it. These are serious people. They’ve taken ten lives. Ten.” His voice turned ominous. “There will be payback.”

  Amber trembled. “Those poor workers. Their families. I’m not sure it’s worth all this death.”

  Chambers had no words to offer. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her everything was going to be fine, but it wasn’t all right. People were dying. People who had done nothing to deserve death.

  “Are we safe here?” Amber asked.

  “For now. I have backup coming. I sent several men down the tunnel to make sure we don’t get ambushed again. I don’t suppose I could use your flashlight, Dr. Rodgers?”

  She handed it to him. With two helmet lights and one handheld flashlight, they scanned the floor and walls of the cavern. It appeared to be a natural formation. Most of the area was empty, but a series of twelve one-meter-tall clay pots stood in a line next to the wall opposite the short staircase. Most of the clay pots were intact and covered with a thick layer of dust. One lay on its side, fractured. Most likely a victim of one of the many earthquakes that shook the area over the centuries. Chambers was amazed that the others still stood.

  What remained of four wood chests sat in front of the clay pots.

  “Do you have your camera, Amber?” Chambers asked.

  “Yes, but. I mean, is it appropriate, considering.” She pointed to the opening above the stairs.

  Landau spoke before Chambers could. “You can’t do anything for them, and I’m not letting you out of here until I have the tunnel secured. You might as well take a look around. Hopefully you’ll find something that makes all this worthwhile.”

  Chambers moved carefully to the pots and stood a few feet away. “What do you think?” he asked Amber. The light beam from her helmet moved from pot to pot, tracing their forms from base to top. “They match the jars found with the Dead Sea Scrolls. Same pinkish-red color—best I can tell with this artificial light. The bell-like top is the same. Based on appearance, they seem to be of the same age, but that’s just a guess. We’ll have to do some testing.”

  “I agree. At least there’s nothing indicating the pots are recent.” He moved to the fractured pot and crouched for a better look. Amber moved to the wood boxes, which had lost the ability to hold their shape and their contents.

  The light from the video camera threw its light against the Stygian darkness. Chambers watched as Amber did a full circle, recording the chamber and its contents. He let her continue her methodical survey while he studied the broken pot. At first he thought it was empty, or its contents rotted to dust, but then he saw a glint, a tiny flash. He redirected his light to the spot where he first noticed the flash.

  He saw it again.

  “Amber. Bring your camera.”

  “What’d you find?” She started toward him.

  “I don’t know, yet, but I want this recorded.” A moment later, the camera’s light blazed over the fallen pot. Gently, slowly, Chambers pulled away a broken piece of pottery, then another and another, until he fit his hand into the vessel. His fingers felt dust, dirt, and something hard. He drew the object from its resting place. It was a rectangle about eight centimeters by four centimeters. Not large.

  Chambers wiped the dust from its surface.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Amber whispered the words. “That is a diamond, isn’t it?”

  “I think so.” Chambers put it in the palm of his hand. “I’ve never held a diamond this big, but it feels right.”

  “Do you think there are more in there?”

  Chambers thought for a moment, then said. “Not if I’m right. This will be the only diamond, but not the only stone.” Again he reached into the fractured jar and felt around until he felt several other stones. He removed two of them, wiping each clean and studying them in the harsh light of the camera and his helmet beam. One was red, the other green. “Odem and tarshish: ruby and emerald. The stones are engraved in Hebrew.” He strained to make out the letters on the ruby. “Reuven—Ruben.”

  “So they had a collection of stones. A treasury of gems … What?”

  “Amber, think.”

  “I am thinking. We’ve found a diamond, a ruby, and … oh my.” She lowered herself to the dust. “That … I mean … the only thing this could be is—”

  “The ephod, the breastpiece of the high priest. Twelve stones set in four rows of three: ruby, topaz, beryl, turquoise, sapphire, diamond, jacinth, agate, jasper, tarshish, onyx, and jade. One stone for each of the tribes of Israel.”

  “If that’s true, then there should be other items in there.”

  “The linen apron is long gone.”

  “Exodus 28, David.”

  He knew the passage, a lengthy description of the high priest’s garments: the apron, turban tunic, sash, robe, and sash. He thought some more. “There should be two more stones mounted in gold, six names on each stone.”

  “Right. They sat upon the shoulders of the high priest.”

  Chambers searched in the vase again and removed a handful of powder and small gold chains. Another search brought out a stone still in a gold setting and larger than those of the breastpiece. The stone had six names engraved on it. “Onyx.”

  “Just like the Bible says.” Amber giggled.

  It was contagious. Chambers chortled.

  Footsteps sounded behind them, then Landau’s voice. “What’s so funny? I take it you found something?”

  Chambers looked at Amber. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Well, what is it? What’d you find?”

  The laughter stopped. A moment later, Chambers replied. “The voice of God. We found the voice of God.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  They spent the next few hours photographing the chamber and everything in it. Once Landau’s men had secured the tunnel with additional men at the Jerusalem entry point and spaced out along the corridor several miles, he allowed Chambers and Amber to set up lights that ran from the same power source that fed the tunnel lights. In bright light, the cave looked smaller than Chambers had thought. In a Hollywood movie, there would be torches spread around the perimeter, each easily lit despite centuries of inactivity. In real life, there were no convenient torches or other sources of light. There was just what they lugged to the site and pushed through the narrow opening. Instead of a breathtaking array, there were twelve clay jars and a couple of decayed boxes.

  Nonetheless there was treasure. The boxes held gold and silver in ingot form, more money from the temple treasury. That should have been enough to thrill anyone, especially Chambers, but the real treasure lay in the artifacts: the stones of the high priest’s breastpiece and linen apron. The linen had turned to dust centuries before, but the stones were unaffected by the passing of time.

  Things might have gone faster had Chambers allowed other workers into the site, but he refused. A find of this magnitude had to be protected, which meant allowing only the minimum number of people to lay eyes on it. The value lay not in the gems but in the spiritual and biblical significance.

  Nuri arrived an hour after being called. He had taken the helicopter to the hotel where one of Landau’s men picked him up and took him on a long, winding drive through and around Jerusalem to make sure they weren’t being followed. Landau said Nuri complained the whole way.

  The complaining stopped after he inched through the access tunnel into the cavern. He was impressed by what he saw; he was speechless when Chambers put the inscribed shoulder stones in the archaeologist’s hands.

  “No.” Nuri stared at the two multicolored onyx stones.

&n
bsp; “Yes,” David said.

  “No.” Nuri shook his head. “It can’t be.”

  “It is.” Amber’s grin widened.

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Amber and Chambers spoke in unison.

  Nuri sat on the dusty floor. “I’m holding the engraved stones of the high priest’s ephod.”

  “Hold out your other hand, Nuri.” Chambers was enjoying this.

  Nuri did, and Chambers put a different pair of stones in his left hand. “Wanna guess?”

  Nuri looked at the objects, then at the twelve stones near the broken jar. “If those are the stones on the high priest’s breastpiece, then these”—he closed his hand over the engraved shoulder stones—”then these two stones must be … must be … No.”

  “We think so,” Chambers said.

  “I’m holding the Urim and Thummim. The Decision Stones.”

  “That’s right,” Chambers said.

  “Could these be. I mean, they’re not the originals. Right? I mean, how could they be?”

  “We don’t know,” Amber said. “There are four centuries between Moses’s day and when the first temple was built, another five centuries to the building of the second temple, and that stood from 516 BCE to 70 CE. Were the original stones there through all those centuries? Who knows? These could have been made much later. Or they could be the same ones Moses saw.”

  “Take these.” Nuri lifted his arms. Chambers took the stones and watched as Nuri rolled and lay back in the dirt.

  “Is he okay?” Landau asked.

  Chambers nodded. “Yes. He’s just overjoyed.”

  Landau shook his head. “You archaeologists are a weird bunch.”

  “That’s a fact,” Amber said.

  Landau looked at the artifacts. “Okay, I admit it. I’m a secular Jew, and I’ve forgotten most of what I learned as a child. So forgive me for being ignorant, but what are these things?”

  “This may sound strange.”

  “Everything sounds strange lately.”

  “The ancient Jews believed God spoke to Aaron and the high priests that followed him by means of the stones.” Landau looked puzzled. “In Exodus 28, there is a long passage describing what the high priest was to wear. It’s quite elaborate. Details extend to the color of the cloth to be used. That’s not unusual in world religions, but what is, is the idea that God would directly communicate with His people. There have been several devices associated with communication with God. The high priest—the Kohen Gadol—wore vestments that were symbolic. For example, he wore a turban of fine white linen to show atonement; the turban had a gold plate showing holiness. He also wore an under tunic of fine linen and over that a blue robe that had a fringe of gold bells and pomegranates of blue, purple, and scarlet. Over that he would don a sleeveless garment called an ephod. It was embroidered with blue, scarlet, and gold. There was also a girdle, well, sash might be a better word, which wrapped around the priest’s waist. You with me?”