The Chosen

by Sharon Sala

  Jay swung the light toward the voice, then flinched.

  Tom Gerlich was wearing filth and standing in filth, but he was standing, and the fire in his eyes was startling.

  Jay shifted the lantern from one hand to the other, and then felt behind him for the opening, in case he needed to run. Before he’d seen the error of his ways, he’d done bad things and never known fear. But that was then, and this was now, and every breath he’d drawn since he’d been brought back to life had been taken in fear.

  His Thomas doubted him. It was to be expected. But they would all see. Everything would change when he corrected his mistake.

  “I know there have been complications,” Jay said. “This just got out of hand. But I promise you, by tomorrow, all will be rectified. We’ve been missing an important member of our group. Once she comes, this will all go away. You will be healed and comforted as only God can do. You’ll see. You’ll all see.”

  “You’re one sick fucker,” Tom said.

  “Mister…mister…please let me go. I got a wife and kids back in Kentucky. They’re bound to be worried sick ’cause they haven’t heard from me. I call them every week. They’ll know somethin’ is wrong. Please, mister, please. I just want to go home.”

  Jay swung the light around the room until it landed on Phillip. The man was down on his knees.

  “Get up, Phillip. Begging is beneath you.”

  Phillip dropped his head, his shoulders shaking as he began to cry.

  “Stop that!” Jay demanded. “You must believe. You must all understand. I need you to be with me to get to heaven.”

  Tom laughed again.

  “After what you’ve done to us, you’re damn sure not going to heaven. Besides that, the man can’t get up. He’s the first one who got the shits. He’s dehydrated and dying, so you better get ready to lose another disciple, which means you better start worrying, because you damn sure can’t get your ride to heaven on a crippled bus.”

  Jay turned and walked out.

  He would show them. All he had to do was get his Mary Magdalene and the circle would be complete.

  January hadn’t talked to Ben since they’d parted at the precinct. They’d made no plans to be together tonight, and yet she knew he would come.

  It was fifteen minutes after midnight when she heard the ding of the elevator on her floor. She got up from the sofa where she’d been waiting, and walked into the foyer. Her hand was on the knob when the doorbell rang; then she heard his voice.

  “January, it’s me.”

  She opened the door.

  “Hello, me. I knew you would come.”

  His eyes darkened with emotion as he picked her up and kicked the door shut behind him as he entered. It locked automatically.

  “I’ve waited for this all day,” he said.

  “Then come to bed,” January said.

  Ben carried her down the hall, then into the bedroom. The bedding was turned back; the lights were down low. He could tell she’d been waiting for him, too.

  He set her down long enough to undo her robe and take it off; then he began to undress, as well.

  “I should probably shower,” he said.

  January crawled onto the bed, then patted the mattress beside her.

  “Afterward,” she said.

  He didn’t need a second invitation.

  Within moments, they were lying face-to-face and looking into each other’s eyes.

  “Make love to me, Ben.”

  He rolled her over onto her back and straddled her legs.

  “Close your eyes.”

  January’s heart skipped a beat. She started to say something, but when she saw his expression, her breath caught at the back of her throat. Slowly, slowly, she lowered her eyelids. The last thing she saw before they went shut was Ben’s face coming toward her.

  His mouth was on her lips. His fingers were in her hair, and when she felt his lips move from the hollow at the base of her throat to her breasts, her muscles quivered.

  There was a sudden dampness on her nipples, and she could feel his tongue tracing the areola, then moving in a thin line of sensation all the way to her navel.

  She grabbed his hair with both hands, afraid to hold on, afraid to let go. He was talking to her now, whispering sweet promises that only the shadows were a witness to, telling her things that made her blush—then made her hot.

  She spoke his name aloud—or so she thought—until he spread her legs and she realized she’d been holding her breath. She felt his fingers, then his lips, then went out of her mind.

  The climax came suddenly, leaving her breathless and spent, and he still wasn’t through. He rose up, put his hands on either side of her shoulders and slid between her legs, then inside her while her muscles were still quaking.

  He left her with no doubts as to his intentions, and rode her hard and fast. When she was only a breath away from a second climax, he let himself go.

  A grunt, then a guttural groan, came out of Ben’s mouth as his seed spilled into January. She bit her lip—a feeble attempt to keep from screaming. Then, overwhelmed with emotion, she started to cry.

  They rode the passion of the free fall back down together, then fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  It was just after 11:00 a.m. the next day when January was ordered out on a breaking news story. Less than an hour earlier, two teenage girls had saved a trucker from his wrecked vehicle just before it burst into flames.

  Hank, her favorite cameraman, was already out of the station on a different job and had been called to proceed to the scene of the new story, while January would go on her own and meet up with him there.

  As she left the building, she was glad she’d worn slacks to work. It would be far more convenient, should she wind up in the midst of on-the-scene turmoil. She was going over the brief set of notes she’d been given as she hurried across the parking lot to her car.

  She tossed her bag and notes in the other seat as she got in, fumbling with her keys before she got the right one in the ignition. Her mind was on everything but car trouble until the car wouldn’t start. Not a rumble. Not even a grinding sound. Just a tiny click, click, every time she turned the key.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake!” she said, and got out. She was heading back to the station to borrow another vehicle when a cab pulled into the lot.

  She was so startled by the sudden arrival that her senses went on alert. Was this it? Had her plan worked this fast? She had to find out and flagged the taxi down, then ran back to her car to gather her things.

  By the time the cab pulled up to where she was waiting, she was nervous and shaking and trying to hide her fear. She blurted out an address, then added, “Hurry, please.”

  When the cab didn’t move, she gritted her teeth and looked up. The driver was staring at her from the rearview mirror. She knew those eyes. She’d seen them before, up close and frighteningly personal. Panic hit—hard and fast. It was him!

  Oh shit.

  “Good morning, Maria Magdalena, I’ve been waiting for you.”

  A muscle at her left eye twitched. This was the moment she’d planned for, expected, yet her first instinct was to flee. She reached for the door handle, only to find it wouldn’t work.

  “Don’t bother, dear,” Jay said. “You’re coming with me.”

  January had all the tracking devices that the police had put on her, and still she was afraid to trust the process. Her head was spinning. She didn’t know what was coming next, but something told her that she wasn’t going to have a say in it. Without breaking eye contact with him, she slipped her hand into her purse, feeling for her cell phone.

  Well aware that she had to go through the motions to be believable, January began kicking at the back seat and thumping on the door.

  “Let me out! Let me out!” she cried, as her fingers curled around the phone. “You must be out of your mind if you think you’re going to get away with this.”

  Still kicking and yelling, she punched in the code for
Ben’s cell and hoped she’d hit all the right numbers. Any second now it would connect and he would be able to hear their conversation. She pulled it to the top of her purse, then slipped it into an outer pocket so that the sound of their conversation would not be muted.

  “Calm down,” Jay said. “In a short while we’ll all be together again.”

  Ben had come to work with a smile on his face, and it was still there. Last night had been magic, and the morning even better. They’d shared a shower, made love, then eaten breakfast together. He’d already told her he loved her, but after last night and this morning, he was convinced that spending the rest of their lives together would be his idea of heaven.

  His cell phone rang just as he was finishing up a report. He typed in the last two words, then checked the caller ID and started to grin.

  “Hello, honey.”

  “…we’ll all be together again.”

  Ben’s heart stopped. That wasn’t January’s voice, but the next one was.

  “You don’t want to do this,” January said. “You have to let me go.”

  “But that’s impossible,” Jay said. “You have to be with me. It’s the only way to heaven.”

  “You can’t get to heaven with blood on your hands,” January said.

  “Shut up!” Jay shouted, then slammed the window shut between the seats and hit the button to release the sleeping gas.

  January heard a soft hissing sound; then everything began to go blank.

  “Help me,” she mumbled. “Help…”

  After that, Ben heard nothing more from January, only the faint sounds of traffic.

  He flew out of his seat with the phone still in his hand.

  “It’s going down!” he yelled.

  Everyone’s function had already been determined, so when Rick heard Ben’s panicked call, he reached for the phone. His first job was to contact the surveillance van that was down in the parking lot, while Ben headed for Borger’s office.

  Ben barged in without knocking.

  “Captain, he’s got her.”

  Borger didn’t have to be told twice.

  “I’ve got backup on the way,” he said. “The surveillance van is outside. Ride with them.” Then he pointed to Ben’s phone. “Is she still on the line?”

  Ben put the phone to his ear. The silence was sickening.

  “No.”

  “Get going,” Borger said.

  Ben turned and ran.

  Someone was carrying her, but January couldn’t move or speak. She didn’t know what she’d inhaled, but she knew it was going to make her sick.

  A moan slid out from between her lips.

  “Poor Mary Magdalene. Life was never easy for you, was it?”

  January felt breath against her face and wanted to scream. She didn’t know what was going to happen to her, but if it happened soon, she was going to be helpless to fight against it.

  “Wha…”

  “Don’t talk,” Jay said. “Save your strength for later.”

  Later? Oh, dear God. Was that an ominous promise or a deadly warning?

  Metal banged. Dust motes lifted from the surfaces on which they’d been lying, and thickened the air.

  “Put…down,” January mumbled, and tried to push at Jay’s hands, but she was too weak to make an impact.

  Jay smiled down at her as he carried her into his room, then laid her on the cot. He’d thought about putting her in the room with Mother Mary, but it didn’t seem right. Jay’s take on Christ’s life had always been skewed, but now, with the tumors sucking the life from him, it was off the wall.

  Mary Magdalene’s purpose in the Bible was vague. Biblical scholars had their own take on her place in Jesus’s life. Jay just knew she was supposed to be there.

  And she was so beautiful, his Mary Magdalene. The others were going to be so happy to see her. This was going to make all the difference.

  But she was coming to now, and he didn’t have much time. She would fight him when she could. That was inevitable. But he couldn’t let her get hurt. Her presence was too vital to making everything work.

  He wasn’t sure what he needed to do next, but she was within the fold where she belonged. Everything else would come in its own time.

  Her eyes were open now, glaring at him in mute fury. She tried to make her arms and legs work, but mobility took longer to return than consciousness.

  He sat down on the side of the cot, then splayed his hand on the middle of her belly. It was, at the same time, both suggestive and threatening.

  January’s panic rose. She hadn’t counted on this, but then she hadn’t counted on a whole lot of what had been happening the last few months.

  “Don’t touch…me,” she finally managed to say.

  Jay purposefully left his hand on her belly just a little bit longer to prove who was in charge. Then he moved it to her face, tracing the curve of her cheek with his thumb.

  “Mary Magdalene. Right under my nose all this time.” He stood, then moved to the end of the cot. “They had a very special relationship—Jesus and his Mary Magdalene.”

  January rolled over and tried to sit up, but when she moved, the bed turned into a carnival ride. It was all she could do not to throw up.

  “Oh God…oh God…please help,” January whispered.

  Jay smiled.

  “See, already you intercede for me.”

  January wanted to scream, but she could barely breathe without gagging.

  “I’ll be back shortly,” he said. “There are some people I want you to meet. In the meantime, drink this. It’ll help you wake up.”

  Seconds later, he was gone.

  January’s hopes rose. People he wanted her to meet? Maybe it was Mother Mary and the missing men. Was it possible that they were all still alive?

  Please, God…please let Mother Mary T. be all right.

  January felt her bra, taking comfort in the tracking device still safely in place, and pictured the authorities racing to this location. But just in case, she needed to be able to think.

  A little leery of Jay Carpenter’s motives, she sniffed the cup he’d set on the floor. It smelled like coffee, and the cup appeared to be clean. Retaining her senses was imperative if she was to come out of this in one piece, so she took off the lid and tasted it. It was lukewarm coffee—strong and black. By the time it was gone, she was able to stand.

  She stumbled to the door and tried the knob. As she’d expected, it was locked, but she’d had to try. She circled the room, hammering on the walls, calling out to anyone who might hear.

  There was an ice chest in one corner, and an empty grocery sack with equally empty tuna and Vienna sausage cans, as well as some cracker wrappers. Three bottles out of a six-pack of water were on the floor near the sack. She opened one and then splashed some on her face before taking a small drink.

  She thought of Hank, waiting for her at the scene of the accident, and knew it was only a matter of time before the cops figured it out.

  Frustrated, she beat on the door again, shouting to be freed.

  Jay heard her and frowned. He wanted the men to see her, but not like this. Then it occurred to him how he could control her rage. Mother Mary would help.

  He hurried to Mother’s room, expecting to see her sitting on the side of the cot, or at the least in prayer. What he didn’t expect was that she was still in the same position she’d been in earlier that morning.

  “Mother? Mother Mary?”

  She didn’t answer, and her skin was hot to the touch. He ran a hand over her forehead, smoothing back the short wisps of hair that had stuck to the skin, and for the first time saw her as more than the habit in which she’d spent the better part of her life.

  She was very thin, with tiny bones. And her skin was so fair that he could see the bluish-purple tint of veins just beneath the surface. Her fingernails were clean and clipped. When he put a hand on her back, he realized he could feel every bone beneath his palm.

  Nervously, he felt for her pulse
. It was erratic and thready, but it was still there.

  A sharp pain hit him right behind an eye.

  “No,” he muttered. “Not now.”

  He ran to the table, poured some water onto a handful of paper towels, and when they were thoroughly wetted, he folded them up and carried them back to the cot to put on her forehead.

  “Mother Mary, can you hear me?” he asked.

  She sighed, then groaned.

  A second pain skittered up the back of his neck, then settled behind his right ear.

  “No, damn it! Not now, I said.”

  “Help,” she mumbled.

  “Yes. Yes. I’ll get help,” he said, and ran out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

  When he burst into his own room, January was taken aback. He was bathed in sweat and breathing rapidly. He grabbed her arm without explanation or ceremony, and held her fiercely.

  “Come with me,” he said. “You need to pray for the mother.”

  January’s mind went blank. She wouldn’t let herself panic until she saw the truth for herself.

  Within seconds, they were out of that room and into the next. Even after they were there and January saw the tiny woman in a cotton shift, lying on a cot, she didn’t recognize her as the wiry, independent little nun. Then she saw the familiar black-and-white habit folded and lying on a nearby chair, and she gasped. “Oh, no!”

  She ran to Mother Mary T., then went down on her knees. Mother Mary Theresa’s skin was hot and dry.

  January turned to her captor.

  “She’s burning up with fever. We have to get her to a doctor.”

  “No. No. We go nowhere,” Jay said. “Pray for her. That’s all she needs, just prayers.”

  January jumped to her feet. Waiting on the police suddenly seemed a dangerous thing to do. She came at Jay, delivering two good blows before he put her on the floor with a strike from his fist.

  The impact was hard and painful, and she tasted blood as she crawled to her feet.

  “Fine,” she said, as she doubled up her fists. “You want to play rough. I can play rough.”

  She came at him again, and again he hit her.