Timelock

by R. G. Knighton

  With the swift improvement of Pilo, Toomak declared that he was now able to travel and with hastened preparation, Toomak and the caravan set off and steadily headed down from the mountain. The journey was much too slow for Toomak’s liking and deep in the pit of her stomach she experienced a strange foreboding, similar to the feeling her mother had while heavily pregnant with Toomak over thirty years ago. Far away in the distance, she could see storm clouds gathering and heading towards Jerusalem. Even though her spies had last informed her all was well and Jesus had been arrested, the dark thunderheads purveyed an evil omen.

  Deep in the heart of the city, Jesus and Barabbas stood either side of Pontius Pilate at the top of the council steps waiting for the crowd to deliver their fate. Unbeknownst to Pilate, the Sanhedrin spies relayed the plan to Caiaphas and he had ordered every church member to assemble amongst the crowd and await instructions.

  Stepping forwards, Pilate raised his right hand for silence and as he gained everyone’s attention, he began.

  “I am a great believer in maintaining order through common sense and since taking the role of your governor I have tried to uphold the traditions of every festival and holy day that this fine city has enjoyed for a very long time. It has only recently come to my attention of another special dispensation that I can also bestow during your holy time of Passover.”

  Murmurs spread through the crowd in puzzlement of Pilate’s speech, and they soon quietened in anticipation as Pilate raised his hand once more.

  “Standing before you today are two prisoners recently sentenced to death for crimes against the state. Instead of the courts deciding their fate, you the people are granted the power today to make the choice to reprieve one of these men as an act of mercy.”

  The crowd once again muttered to one another on the subject of the curious speech. Pilate waited patiently until he had their full attention once more.

  “To my left stands Jesus of Nazareth, holy man and peaceful preacher who has been found guilty of sedition, and to my right, Jesus Barabbas, a notorious robber and murderer who holds no conscience for the numerous sins he has committed. All you have to do is to shout out the name of the man you wish to save and he will be released.”

  Immediately some of the followers of Jesus began to chant his name and Pilate breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, responding to a nod from Caiaphas himself who stood behind Pilate on the steps with his own inner council, a call for Barabbas began. Over and over lower Sanhedrin officials chanted his name and picking up the lead from their leaders, more and more members chanted Barabbas’ name. Their numbers far outweighed the followers of Jesus and they drowned out the call for Jesus’ release. Pilate tried to control the mood of the crowd by telling them the crimes that Barabbas had committed, but the chant continued leaving no doubt in the result. Defeated and in disgust, Pilate ordered a bowl of water and a drying cloth to be brought to his side and in front of everyone he held up his hands and cried,

  “I see no guilt in this man so I wash my own hands of all responsibility for your choice, by calling for the release of Barabbas the blood of Jesus is on your hands and yours alone.”

  Pilate theatrically washed and dried his hands using the water filled bowl and cloth before reluctantly ordering Barabbas’ release, thereby sealing Jesus’ fate and condemning him to death.

  Tortured again by his captors, stripped to a loincloth, and carrying the cross on his back, Jesus wearily made his way through the Damascus gate to the place of the skull at Calvaria. Some of the watching crowds jeered and spat at him as he passed but the majority watched in silence or openly sobbing at the horror unfolding before them. Finally reaching the top of the hill, Roman soldiers lay Jesus on his back on top of the cross. With his arms spread wide, they drove nails through his wrists and one through both feet, pinning him to the rough wood. This was swiftly lifted into a vertical position between two other common thieves who had been crucified in the same way.

  As the nails were driven in, Toomak bizarrely doubled over in terrible pain, almost falling off her horse as she rode down the mountain path. Realising something to be terribly wrong she took a small dose of opium from a pouch on her belt and as the pain eased she galloped away to Jerusalem as fast as her horse could go. For the past few nights, Toomak’s had experienced nightmares showing Jesus dead and buried with his life force extinguished leaving her unable to harvest his soul and fulfil her curse on all mankind. The pains kept on returning so she used up the last of the opium, spurred on her horse and hastened off into the distance under a cloud of dust. En route she passed an official looking caravan heading in the opposite direction and recognised Pilate’s wife Percula who ordered for Toomak to stop and give a report, but she ignored the command and continued on to the city. By mid-afternoon Toomak rode uninterrupted through the eastern gate to find the streets almost deserted. She spied a blind beggar huddled down an alleyway in the shadow of a doorway,

  “You there, where is everyone?”

  Toomak yelled, startling the poor man and he shrank back into the shadows. Toomak dismounted and walked to where the beggar now hid. Suddenly, finding his voice the beggar flashed out an open palm and cried,

  “Alms for the poor, alms for the poor.”

  Before he could repeat a third time, Toomak slapped him across the face with the back of her hand, splitting the poor man’s lip on his last remaining front tooth. Before he could do anything to defend himself, another blow came from the other side. He curled up into a ball whining and crying as Toomak finished the job and kicked his backside.

  “Where is everybody, do you hear me?”

  Toomak shrieked, finding it increasingly difficult to hold in her rage from killing the poor man where he lay. Through blooded lips and hand-covered face he finally blurted,

  “To the crucifixion.”

  “Whose crucifixion?”

  Toomak yelled, trying to keep hold of her temper.

  “The one named Jesus of Nazareth.”

  Toomak’s face paled from the colour of rage to a deathly white in seconds. Her entire existence relied on stealing the soul of Jesus as he lay dying. Too soon and he would be too strong and a dead body was worse than useless. With one more kick for good measure, Toomak turned and ran back to her horse that waited patiently at the end of the alley, mounted as quickly as possible and charged off across the deserted city. Taking less than ten minutes to reach the Damascus gate where outside, thousands of people stood silently watching three figures perched high on the nearby hill. Toomak dismounted and picked her way through the mass of people; painfully slowly she ascended the hill then stopped in shock as she identified the stricken face of Jesus on the cross. Toomak watched silently as Jesus raised his head and stared at her directly as he uttered his final words of forgiveness and then breathed his last.

  An icy chill poured down the hillside as the storm moved in. The morning had started a cloudless, clear sunny day that now morphed first to a brilliant fiery red, like a tropical sunset, then it darkened to a rich plum purple and finally to filthy black, completely blotting out the sun. The stark images of the crucified figures turned to silhouettes against the dramatic vista as torrential rain began to fall.

  Toomak screamed in anguish then fell to her knees in complete devastation as thousands of people began to flee down the hillside in fear and panic. Jesus’ most devout followers closed in on the guard but they still maintained their protective phalanx surrounding the cross. A red headed woman leading the group screamed ‘he’s dead’ at the top of her lungs but it was almost lost in the deafening crash of thunder and simultaneous flash of lightening that followed.

  Suddenly the ground trembled violently beneath their feet, this marked enough for the soldiers, and they gathered up their weapons and began to flee, but not before one of them turned and threw his spear into Jesus’ side just to make sure of his death. Their own lives would soon be extinguished should Jesus survive, which would prove that they deserted their posts before completion of
duty.

  Unable to hold her own ground, Toomak was swept back into the city like a piece of flotsam on the tide of terrified humanity heading for safety. By the time the way forwards was clear, she returned through the city gate to find the hill deserted and the middle cross holding Jesus had been lowered and now lay empty. Toomak scanned the hill, which now resembled river rapids, in hope of tracing where his body had gone but apart from the two remaining crucified men, the site lay deserted. Toomak turned her face up to the lashing rain, and as the drops stung her face and blinded her eyes she spread out her arms and screamed at the top of her lungs, straining every fibre in her body in rage and frustration.

  “Pontius Pilate, I curse you and all your family. With all the power I possess, I will torture your body and mind for the rest of your life.”

  Exhausted and sobbing, Toomak collapsed to the floor and curled her body into the foetal position. As she lay shivering in the pouring rain, the mental strain became too much, and passed out from exhaustion.

  Pontius Pilate was a frightened man, he knew of the power Toomak possessed and he feared for his life and that of his family. His servants were given instructions to pack up all of his belongings and send them by caravan, back to Damascus as soon as possible. Luckily his wife was already heading to meet their son Pilo as he returned from the mountains, so he sent a messenger to intercept and instruct them to head for Damascus. He himself was already riding his swiftest horse as fast as possible to catch up with his family and eventually return to Rome. But it was already too late, even when safe from the clutches of Toomak, Pilate’s role in the execution of Jesus troubled his mind. Night after night, for months on end he woke up screaming from terrible nightmares, which eventually affected his waking hours until, unable to take any more, he took his own life.

  Toomak awoke to find the rain had stopped and felt the warmth of the sun on her face as it emerged from behind the clouds. Filthy with mud splattered all over her body and soaking wet through, she painfully staggered to her feet and made her weary way back down the hillside and into the city. People stared aghast at Toomak’s state as she walked through the marketplace heading for her home, but a few choice words or an evil stare encouraged them to avert their eyes and carry on with their daily chores.

  Cleaned up and ready for the fight, Toomak started by questioning all her informants to try to glean any scrap of information that would lead her to Jesus. Excited by the news that Jesus asked for forgiveness for his executioners was a sign that the people angered God and the extremes in weather further indicated his wrath but he would not deny the last request of his only son in the form of man. To possess this immense negative energy in the name of Hell’s angels would cause a cataclysmic reversal in the natural balance and truly raise Hell from the underworld to the surface. Realising time was of the essence; Toomak followed her leads and before long she stood hiding in the bushes across a small valley from a rock-hewn tomb that had been prepared for Joseph of Aramathea, but was now hastily given up for Jesus’ body. A massive boulder sealed the entrance to the tomb and Toomak stared silently at the faces of two men she had not seen for many years, but recognised instantly.

  BOOK THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  SHOWDOWN

  It had just begun to rain as Professor Appleyard walked wearily up the pathway to his bungalow, to face an anxious Mrs Goldstein waiting at the door. She had let herself in over an hour ago, and finding no note worried for the professor’s safety.

  “My apologies Mrs Goldstein, there was nothing to worry about, I was held back by a series of experiments that progressed much later than anticipated. I feel it fair to warn you though, that there will be a continuation tonight and that may also progress well on into the following day.”

  Mrs Goldstein accepted his apology, and after she prepared breakfast, she insisted he take a nap during the afternoon to prepare for another long night at the university.

  Before he settled down to rest, the professor walked back into his study and sat down behind his desk. Fumbling around in his waistcoat pocket he retrieved a small brass key which he placed in the lock of the wide shallow drawer sited just below the desk top. Unlocking the drawer, he pulled it open, retrieved a long manila envelope entitled ‘last will and testament of Professor Earnest George Appleyard Esq.’, and placed it in plain view on the desktop in front of him. As he had no close family the professor had bequeathed his book collection to the university and his monetary savings to create a university bursary for students from lower income families to help them progress with their studies. The bungalow and all the remainder of his chattels were left to Mrs Goldstein for all her devotion to his care. Taking a deep breath the professor stood up and returned to his bedroom for a well deserved rest.

  Carl Barker’s houseboat strained at its mooring ropes and rocked heavily in the sudden heavy winds as Chelsea and Carl sat drinking coffee silently facing each other over the kitchen table.

  “You’re not going.”

  Carl suddenly announced, breaking the silence. Chelsea looked stunned and glared back before she made her reply.

  “Who died and put you in charge? The Guardian stated that Toomak must be defeated and we are responsible, and I intend to help and put it right.”

  Expecting that response, Carl was prepared with his answer.

  “You were not one of the original gathering that opened this rift and let Toomak through. It is not your fault and I won’t let you put yourself in danger.”

  Chelsea smiled as she interpreted his sentence.

  “You care for me don’t you?”

  Carl blushed and he cleared his throat. He hated showing his emotions and this was the most he had ever admitted to a woman.

  “I, I just don’t want to see you hurt, that’s all”

  With that comment he got up and shut himself in his bedroom, refusing to come out for over an hour. The conversation continued through a closed pine-wood door until exhausted from arguing, Carl relented with the promise of sex and breakfast.

  A similar argument occurred inside George Harding’s flat with Marion, Mary, and George himself. His opinion, being very similar to Carl’s was that he cared for both Marion and Mary in varying degrees and that they had also been through far too much to consider a trip through the portal and battle with Toomak. Outnumbered two to one, the women berated George with the main fact that both of them had been very close to Toomak, with Mary actually sharing the same body. At a loss for any suitable counterpoint, George finally relented and they all made plans for the fight.

  Tyler had invited Henry back to his place but was politely turned him down, as he needed some quiet time to contemplate what he had gone through and what could possibly happen in the next twenty-four hours. When Henry returned to his flat he soon found himself lying on his bed and looking through his collection of family photographs while feeling more alone than he had ever felt in his life. He dearly wanted to speak to his parents and explain what he was about to do, but funds were tight and would not stretch to an international telephone call. Anyway, if he told them, how could he expect them to believe him?

  Should he not return, he decided that some sort of explanation had to be in order, so using a spare cassette tape for his voice recorder, Henry sat down and for the next hour, dictated everything that had happened so far and what he was about to do no matter how unbelievable it sounded. When he finished Henry sealed it in an envelope addressed to his parents and left it propped up on his bedside table.

  Tyler having accepted the Henry’s reasons, walked hastily back to his car and drove home through the rain, wondering whether to tell his parents what he was about to do. By the time he reached his rooms he realised how ludicrous the story sounded and would probably make his parents think he was on drugs. Trying to keep normality to the situation, Tyler had breakfast as usual, and this time tried to engage his father in conversation. To his surprise his father responded and they held a long and interesting debate regarding the f
amily and Tyler’s role within. For the first time in years they connected and when Tyler left the breakfast room he finally had an understanding of his purpose in life, and he looked upon Gisborne Hall in a totally different way.

  Before everyone had left the book vault, they all agreed to meet at Romeo’s Pizzeria for their ‘Last Supper’ as Carl tastelessly chose to call it. Before Tyler joined the others, he wandered through the beautiful stately home as though for the last time. Finding his way into the museum he recalled with acute embarrassment how he lost his virginity to Mary, and with the promise of further sexual favours how she persuaded him to let her have the amulet. He blushed at the thought of meeting her again tonight and wondered how she was feeling that her body had been abused in such a way.

  As torrential rain lashed against the high round topped windows, Tyler absentmindedly scanned the exhibits. He was observing how different everything looked under the glare of the security lights, when directly overhead there was a huge explosion of thunder and simultaneous flash of lightening illuminating the surface of an item in a display case. Curious as to what it was, Tyler moved in for a closer look and realised that he had found the perfect thing to aid his future labours.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  As the day progressed, hourly news bulletins on radio and television reported increasingly more serious and bizarre weather reports. Heavy earth tremors in more than more than twenty sites around the globe, an increase in Atlantic hurricanes when there should be a decline this time of year, and also heavy rain in the Chilean Atacama Desert for the first time since records began.