Focusing his eyes far away, he sees that the waterspout is gone. Then, he tries to find Paige with his mind, but like before, he again cannot sense her. With no one anywhere nearby, he asked, puzzled, “What happened? Who saved me?”
As he drops his head down, he tries to remember his fight with Gemini. “The guy was just toying with me,” he says, “Like a cat tossing around a wounded mouse…just toying with me.” Shaking his head, he asks, “And that question. Why ask that question?”
In somber thought, he is quiet for a long moment.
Lifting up his eyes, he trains his mind on his memory of Gemini’s face. Lightening his mood, he says, “And he looks just like me…a freaky, pretty-boy version of me, but just like me.” Then, he remembers three dreams he had: Three times he dreamt of a distant mirror slowly approaching him, as it floated in space. During the third time, he controlled the dream and prevented the mirror from shattering. When it finally reached him, he saw his own face reflecting back at him.
Finally, standing, he whispers, “This is the meaning of the dream. His face is my face. The face of my twin.”
At that moment, lightning flashes around him, and then thunder roars and shakes the sand beneath his feet.
Taking notice, he looks up and addresses the heavens with a grin, “Was that a yes? I finally got that, huh? I’m dense, but I’ll end up gettin’ it.”
He then, thinks back to one more thing. While in the water, when he reached for Paige, the symbols on their wrists intersected, he remembers that he saw a vision. Concentrating, he tries to replay it in his mind. As he closes his eyes, the vision starts once again. Placing himself within it, he begins to hear the sound of thundering hoof beats echo in his ears.
They are the pounding hooves of his speeding black horse, as he races over the dense sandy plateau of a Middle Eastern desert - in Israel. It is several hundred years after the battle at the island city of Tyre. As his body rhythmically absorbs the rapid motions of his powerful horse, his brown and white desert robe trails behind him, snapping in the air as it whips in the wind. With a black scarf wrapping tightly over his nose and mouth, he glances to his side and sees his companion speeding away with him, similarly clothed and riding on a red roan horse.
Feeling something jostle against his chest, the goateed man quickly glances down. Hanging around his neck, from a slender leather twine, is a glass vial just the size of a thumb. It contains a precious liquid.
As he and his companion swiftly ride toward the edge of the warm and arid plateau, he quickly glances over his shoulder. Far behind them are two riders of the Roman cavalry. One is a cavalry commander, a Roman Decurion - he is Gemini.
Turning forward, he sees that the plateau is soon to end at a steep cliff, and beyond it, the sun hovers, just above the horizon.
Their horses kick up dense plumes of desert dust, as they reach the edge of the plateau. The two riders quickly pull on the reigns, and their horses come to a halt, neighing and stomping with excitement, with hot air streaming from their flared nostrils.
Jumping off his horse, the goateed man quickly gazes out over the plateau. Looking down, he finds that the edge of the plateau plunges far below, and at its bottom, the desert is completely flat, from one side to the other. Just beyond it is the long shoreline of the Mediterranean Sea. Grasping the vial tightly in his hand, he turns to his companion and says in haste, “Now I must go.”
They speak in Hebrew.
“Go!” his companion commands, through a scarf wrapped over the mouth. While unsheathing the glistening steel of a curved sword, the companion adds, “And I will keep our friends entertained.”
“I will see you again,” he ensures.
“Be it in heaven or at your table. Yes. Now go with God!”
Quickly, the goateed man turns and runs to the eroded edge of the plateau and begins to scale down its face.
Within moments, he hears the sound of pounding hooves above. Following it are the singing sounds of metal sliding over metal, as swords are unsheathed. Seconds later, his ears cringe upon hearing the clanging and slicing of the furious blades.
Moving further down, his hands grasp the dusty cracks of the plateau’s wall, and his feet slide down to find support, while digging into the crevices. A few more steps lower, he finds, in the wall, the narrow opening he sought that is just large enough for his body to crawl into.
Above him, a black crow caws, as it glides out into the horizon, briefly looking down to see him enter the opening.
With the opaque vial hanging from his neck, he disappears into the darkness of the earth.
As the vision ends, he takes himself away from within it, and then slowly opens his eyes. “A vial,” he whispers. “Gemini was chasing me for that vial. But I don’t know what was in it, and I don’t remember that past.” Thinking for a moment, he then makes a connection, “It’s the same vial in the vision I got of the young French guy, who was looking at a sketch of it that he took out of an old, leather attache case.”
After pondering over it a while longer, he realizes that there is so much more that he needs to understand about the past, about Gemini, and about Gemini’s ultimate plans, and more importantly, what he needs to do in light of all of it.
Finally, he says, “I gotta talk to Smiley. There’s a lot more he has to tell me.” Then, he adds, “And I’m alive for a reason…I gotta find out why.”
Locating Gul, he immediately leaves.
* * * * * * *
The next day, with the early evening already quite dark, a black sedan stops a short distance from the entrance of a bar and pool hall, on Cass Street, in Pacific Beach. With the rain still falling, Special Agents Etelson and Stevens step out.
Before opening the driver’s side door, Etelson uses both hands to pull tightly on her ponytail and says, “Well, I still don’t believe it was Kessian this guy saw. How can Kessian make it down here so fast? Remember he left his banged up ride on the side of the freeway in Frisco. He had to have immediately gotten into another car and driven all night down here. He couldn’t have taken a flight like us. He would have been spotted.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that myself, Ett. But I still can’t get over how he left his banged up ride on the side of the freeway in Frisco,” Stevens replies. “Maybe if we get an answer for that, it’ll explain how he got here so fast.”
Quickly, they open their doors, stride to the entrance, and walk in.
Etelson spots the tall, bald, heavyset bartender straight ahead and asks Stevens, “Is that our bartender?”
After scanning the sparsely occupied room, Stevens inspects the man behind the bar, “Yeah, I guess so.”
The first stool is the only one occupied at the bar. They pass it as they walk further down to the end, where the bartender stands.
Etelson begins the introductions, “Good evening sir, I’m Special Agent Katrina Etelson, and this is Special Agent Riley Stevens. We’re from the FBI.” They display their badges. “Sir, did you call local police and report seeing this man in this sketch?”
Stevens unfolds a letter-sized sheet of paper, with the two composite images of Sik on it, side by side.
“Yeah, I called,” the bartender answers, “And, yeah, that’s the guy. He was here just last night.”
Stevens hands him the flier and requests, “Could you take a closer look, sir, and just verify?”
The bartender takes it and examines the images for a few seconds. Handing it back, he affirms, “Yup. That’s him. He came in wearing a baseball cap, but just before he left, he took it off. And that’s when I recognized him.” He shakes his head and adds, “He’s a heck-of-a pool player, by the way.”
Stevens puts away the flier.
Etelson nods her head in brief acknowledgement, and then asks, “Ok, can you tell us the time he got in and what he did?”
As the bartender gives an account of the previous night, Stevens takes notes.
The bartender concludes, “He left here after 1:30, before 2am.”
“No, but he said he’s staying around here. Those were his exact words…staying around here. He wasn’t driving, so his place has gotta be walking distance.”
Stevens stops writing. “Very good. Have you ever seen him before? Has he ever come in before last night?”
“No. Never. The way he took over the pool table, I’m pretty sure I’d remember…well, that’s if he was here and played pool. But anyway, I’ve never seen his face.”
“Is there anything thing else you could tell us?”
“That’s all I got.”
“Alright, thank you,” Stevens says.
While handing him a business card, Etelson adds, “If you think of anything else, could you give us a call? And if you see him again, please call us immediately. And could you pass the word along to your fellow bartenders around town?”
“You got it,” the bartender replies and nods. He puts the card in his back pocket.
As they make their way out, Stevens says, “Well, that’s pretty much what he told San Diego PD, and they’ve already started their search.”
“They’re putting out the word to other pool joints in the city, right?”
“That they are.”
Etelson adds, “We’ve got to go with them, pronto, when they go door-to-door shopping for Kessian. He’s definitely around here, and I know we can find him.”
Hustling through the rain, they get in their sedan and buckle in.
Etelson starts the engine, flips on the wipers, and asks, “Hey, did you get to contact the person who booked the Marsters hotel room?” Looking over her shoulder, she pulls the car into the street.
“Yeah, just before we left the office. Apparently, the guy works for the hotel chain’s corporate office. And it’s his wife’s twin sister that Kessian abducted.”
“Twins? No way.”
“Way. And they’re pretty broken up about it. They gave her the room to get away and relax.”
“Ouch. No way.”
“Way.”
“Rye, if I ever have twins, I’ll tell ‘em to treat each other like crap…don’t be nice and start giving each other stuff,’ Etelson declares, with a sly smile. ‘It prevents stuff like this. No need to feel guilty about getting anyone kidnapped, ya know?’
“Yeah, Ett, that’s the way to push in a pin, using an anvil.” Then, Stevens adds, “And you’ll never guess where she’s from.”
“The one Kessian’s abducted? Where from?”
“Dummm, dummm, dummmmmmm…right here in River City.”
“No way! River City! Who says River City these days? You’re such an old fogey. It’s a wonder how you got a spring chicken like Missy.”
“Old fogey? Spring chicken? Well, who says that stuff?”
“Me that’s who. And I’m still a spring chicken,” Etelson replies smugly.
“Sure, like my left cheek is a spring chicken,” Stevens says laughing.
Etelson laughs a brief but deep-throated laugh, showing her pure amusement. After a moment, she says, “Huh, it’s the San Diego connection again. People just seem to like to come back here.” Remembering something, she adds, “Hey, I tried ringing up Mr. Goatee.”
Smiling, Stevens asks quickly, “What? For a date?”
“Well, I thought I would lead with that question, yeah…and then go on to some boring work stuff,” she says nodding. “But no answer to my ringy-dingy.”
“Maybe we should just stop by.”
Etelson drives on the freeway onramp and merges into the 5 North. “Yeah, maybe. I think I’m over him. So I can handle seeing his face and bare tan chest again.”
“Well, I sure hope so. I don’t wanna have to make fun of you again. That face I made, to try to look like you, hurts.”
Etelson chuckles, and then falls silent for a moment.
Stevens quietly watches the wipers cleanly whisk away the rain from the windshield.
Then, slightly tilting her head up, Etelson jokingly and whimsically asks, “Hmmm…if I ask him, do you think he’ll take off his shirt?”
* * * * * * *
Before Gemini stood next to Sik in the warehouse, and gave him instructions to watch over Paige at the Pacific Beach motel, Gemini earlier stood beside another man on the ground. This time, instead of on the concrete floor of the warehouse, he was on the soft, white sand of a beach, off the edge of the bay.
From the shoreline, a long, straight trail was drawn in the sand, by a body being dragged out of the water and laid to rest some steps into the shore.
That body was the body of the goateed man.
As Gemini gazed down, the dark hood of his coat covered his head, while the rain fell down against it. Kneeling, he reached and gently swept aside the wet and salty strands of hair from his brother’s pale and seemingly lifeless face.
Gemini placed his hand over his brother’s forehead, and then slowly slid it up to the top of the head. There, he kept his hand.
For a long moment, he looked down without uttering a single sound or thinking a single thought.
Then, Gemini recalled what he had done. Earlier, at their clash at the waterspout, Gemini watched his brother fade away and sink into the bay, just before his final, massive, blazing weapon was to strike his brother. But at the last instant, Gemini directed the tremendous, deadly ball of energy away from his brother, preventing the fatal collision.
Finally, softly, Gemini whispered, “You still would sacrifice your life for them.” A faint, though approving smile appeared on his face. “Foolish brother,” he said.
Still looking down, he quietly added, “I just needed to know you were still that man. A time will come when I will count on it, when we deceive the dark entity…to release me from the bargain I have with it.”
Then, he turned his brother’s body over to its side, and water began to seep from the side of the mouth.
With the heel of his palm, Gemini cautiously yet forcefully pounded on the center of his brother’s back.
He heard a solid and hollow thud.
Nothing happened. His brother seemed lifeless.
Gemini pounded his brother’s back again.
Again, there was no movement, no response.
He pounded once more, but with much more force. This time, the thud was genuinely solid, and it reverberated significantly louder throughout the torso, lungs, and windpipe.
Suddenly, his brother coughed. He coughed again, struggling to restore his life. Then, immediately, he began spewing out the salty water from his lungs.
As the coughing and heaving continued, Gemini slowly stood and looked down from his covered, hooded head. In his thoughts, he said, We had a pact once, brother. As I am now, I stand far detracted from it. And I am attempting to return.
A moment later, Gemini vanished.
Chapter 22
Mount Haleakala, Maui, Hawaii.
The longhaired man stands at the summit.
Earlier, he met with Gul and brought him to his San Diego apartment. With Paige still missing, he believed that there was no victory to be claimed, and after their sobering conversation, he felt the need to come to this mountaintop and open his thoughts to his God.
Now, he remembers when his family was on this island, and they drove to the summit of the mountain. High above the clouds, they waited in eager anticipation for the magnificent sunset.
To the Hawaiians, the name of the volcano means House of the Sun. In the Hawaiian creation story, it is here at volcano’s summit where the demigod Maui captures the sun to bring light to the islands.
Here, the longhaired man stands alone, not to bathe in the light of that captured sun, but to open his clouded thoughts to the light of the sun’s creator.
He seeks the highest vantage point from which to look into the heavens and into the horizon of the setting sun.
Protected from the cold, brisk wind by his long, black coat, he slides his hands into its pockets. Only a short distance below him, aft
er the rusty, brown slope and the black powdered lava rocks, is the amazing sight of the blanketing, undulating tops of the pure white clouds. They seem as though they are solid, waving ground that he can walk upon and be in the presence of God.
In the horizon, just above the clouds, the sun stops directly in front of him, appearing as if it comes to face him, and him alone.
His eyes stare directly into the sun, and the sight is easy, soft, and painless.
With the cold wind blowing against his face, he remembers his earlier conversation with Gul.
They were on their way to his apartment, as he drove his Mustang on the 56 Freeway, with Gul in the passenger’s seat.
In a somber mood, he felt the need to just take a drive, and just hear the rain against the windshield.
This was to be their most important and revealing conversation, one that would resolve the mysteries of his existence.
Staring intently through the rhythmic movement of the windshield wipers and into the rain-drench road, he asked Gul, “So, is he?”
Without his characteristic smile, Gul stated, “He is indeed your twin brother - you are identical twins.” Glancing briefly at his friend, Gul continued, “And as I told you in the cave, you are a Nephilim. He too is the same. In the Bible in Genesis, in the early days of man’s history, it reads: In those days the Nephilim were on earth - and also afterward - when the sons of God had children with the daughters of men. They were heroes of old, men of renown. At that time, there were many whose bloodline came from the Nephilim. But today, there are only rare individuals who are their direct descendants. And rarer still are those whose hearts pump strong, with the power of the Nephilim blood.”
Gul looked up, quiet. Then, he turned back, saying, “But unlike those spoken of in Genesis you are not born from angel and human. You and your brother are born by the very will and word of God. He is your Father. When He spoke you into existence, both of you were the first of your kind, and both of you are the last of your kind. He made your bodies very different from the human race: they are able to receive and wield the powerful gifts he bestows upon you.”
RB 01 Through Flesh & Bone Page 61