Jeremy Robinson - The Didymus Contingency

“Well, maybe you’ll get to see her smile soon?”

“Not soon enough,” David said. “Not soon enough.”

Sally grimaced behind her black scarf. This was not going well.

“Raise your hands,” Sean demanded after Chuck had removed her backpack.

Sally did as she was told. She didn’t want to incite these guys into pulling a trigger. Jake was still struggling to catch his breath as Sean ran to Jake and helped him to his feet. Jake struggled to speak. “What is it, sir?” Sean asked.

Sally knew that if Jake regained the ability to talk he might give the order to shoot. She had to act fast. Sally moved her right hand subtly to her watch and began slowly pushing buttons.

“It’s…It’s…” Jake was beginning to get out a sentence.

Chuck emptied the backpack’s contents while keeping his gun raised at Sally’s head. Sally’s business suit, heels, nylons and I.D. badge fell out of the bag. She had planned to change into her normal clothes as soon as she made her getaway. She could have easily strolled comfortably back to her office. But that was no longer an option.

Jake pointed toward Sally and said, “That’s…”

“Director McField?” Chuck asked. He was holding her I.D. in his hand.

Jake relaxed. They finally understood.

“I think this guy broke into Director McField’s office too,” the guard said.

Jake’s eyes bulged. “NO!” he shouted. “SHE’S… SHE’S…”

Both guards stared at Jake. What was he trying to say? Jake’s eyes widened when he saw Sally lower her arms and reach for the gun. “SHOOT HER!” he screamed.

Sally grabbed Chuck’s gun and quickly kneed him in the groin. Sally’s ears rang with pain as a gunshot ripped through the air. She felt the breeze created by the bullet as it passed her face and shattered several beakers. Sean aimed for a second shot, but Sally had begun moving before the shards of glass from the beakers hit the floor. She ran out the door, through the office and burst into the hallway.

The elevator door directly across the hall opened up with a ding. A stunned guard struggled to draw his weapon as Sally skidded to a stop and ran down the hallway toward the stairwell. Two shots echoed through the hallway as Sean leapt from the office and took aim for a third.

As Sally slammed through the stairwell door, a third bullet punctured the metal door behind her, just missing its mark. She scrambled up the stairs, covering two steps at a time. She had a plan. She thought it was stupid, but it was a plan nonetheless. The three guards, two running and Chuck limping, followed quickly, weapons ready to kill.

Jake picked up the office phone and dialed three numbers. “Sir, it’s Jake… Better prep…all four. Spencer was right… Sally’s gone crazy… I think she’s going back… Yeah… She’s got a watch.”

Sally’s legs burned as she heaved up each flight of stairs. The men behind her were gaining, and if they caught her, would most likely kill her. She couldn’t let that happen. Sally slammed into a thick bulkhead and pushed. The doors were heavy, covered in sand and meant only for emergency use; only a select group of people knew they existed, and from the outside, they were invisible. An alarm sounded as soon as the first piece of daylight entered the stairwell.

Pang! A bullet ricocheted off the stair Sally was standing on. The vibration caused by the bullet shot a tingling sensation up her leg. That was close. A few more seconds and she’d be dead. Sally grunted as she pushed the bulkhead open and ran into the blazing sun. The searing heat of the desert and blinding light of sun on golden sand was disorientating.

Sally stumbled forward a few feet and covered her squinting eyes. She saw it just in time. She planted her feet firmly in the sand and leaned backward. Her toes protruded over a five hundred foot drop. Sally was teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Don’t move! Don’t move a freakin’ inch, lady!” the elevator guard shouted.

“Turn around, nice and slow,” Sean said, as he inched toward her, keeping a watchful eye on the cliff.

Sally turned around slowly, but did not move away from the cliff’s edge. She had to time this perfectly and make sure she didn’t get shot in the process.

“Take off your mask,” demanded the elevator guard. “Take it off, now.”

Sally punched one last button on the watch as she raised her hand to her scarf and unwrapped it. The guards took a step back when they saw Sally’s face. They had been shooting at their boss!

“Sorry for the trouble, boys,” Sally said with a smile.

She tossed the scarf at the guards, obscuring their view. By the time the skinny guard plucked the scarf out of the air, Sally had already jumped.

“Director McField!” Sean shouted, as he reached out for her.

All three men ran to the edge of the cliff and looked over. Sally was plummeting toward the ground. A light began to pulsate. With each flash it grew brighter and brighter, enveloping Sally’s body in a blaze of white. The three men jumped back as a sound like an explosion rose from below. They waited only a second before looking back over the cliff. And what they saw, they couldn’t believe. Sally was gone. No broken body. No stain of blood. She had vanished. Only a glowing cloud of blue particles remained, carried by the wind.

“Holy… She’s…she’s gone!”

“This must have something to do with that secret stuff they’ve been working on.”

“Yeah, but where did she go?”

“Not where did she go,” Jake said. “But when did she go?”

As Jake finished his sentence, a tingling zap of energy coursed up through the sinews of his back and into his skull. He was suddenly filled with the knowledge of what he had to do next…and it was wonderful.

The guards turned around and saw Jake standing in the bulkhead. He had a gun raised. “Sorry guys, but you’ve seen too much and we need to tidy up a bit.”

Before any of them could react, Jake fired three shots.

Tom was miffed. Jesus knew Lazarus was sick, maybe even dying. While Tom in no way believed Jesus could heal Lazarus, he knew that they were friends and if Lazarus died, Jesus should be there. They all should be there. But they weren’t. Three days had passed before they set out that morning, headed for Bethany. Tom thought that Jesus might have waited the three days with the hopes that Lazarus would be feeling better by the time they arrived, thus negating the need for an actual miraculous healing.

The hike toward Bethany had been quiet and tense. Tom was glad it was almost over. As the hillside home of Lazarus came into view, Tom’s heart sank. A crowd of people, maybe a hundred, was gathered around the home. And there was a noise…a wailing. Is everyone crying?

Jesus stopped in his tracks and looked at the crowd. The disciples followed suit. Tom knew what this meant. He knew Lazarus was dead. And they hadn’t been here.

As the fourteen moved forward again and approached the home, Martha burst from the crowd and stormed toward Jesus, consumed by rage. “Where were you?”

Martha stopped in front of Jesus and punched his chest. “ Where were you?”

She punched Jesus’s chest and arms over and over, lessening the blow each time. “If you had been here earlier, Lazarus would not have died!”

Tom shook his head at hearing Martha say the words, confirming Lazarus’s passing. This was madness.

After putting his arms around Martha, Jesus pulled her close. She sobbed into Jesus’s chest as he ran his fingers through Martha’s hair. He held her tight until her muscles relaxed. Jesus loosened his grip on Martha and she wiped her eyes dry.