David Epperson - The Third Day

My kind of party, I could tell.

“Do you still have your clothes?” Lavon asked.

“For the moment. I think she’s just trying to show me what I’m supposed to do tomorrow.”

She paused.

“You’ve got to get me out of here,” she said.

“We’re working on it,” I replied.

“Well, work harder!”

“We are,” said Lavon, “but we have another problem.”

He briefly explained what had happened to Markowitz.

“We may have to cash in all of our chips to keep Ray in one piece,” I said.

I didn’t need to explain what that might mean to her.

“Oh.”

There wasn’t anything else to say. In the lottery between ‘bad’ and ‘worse,’ she had drawn ‘bad.’ For now, she’d just have to live with it.

***

That didn’t mean I was happy about it, though. I kicked over my chair and swore; then I cursed again for losing control of myself.

I set my chair back upright, took a deep breath and another swig of wine, and then sat back down.

“Well,” I said, “any ideas?”

Lavon shook his head. Even if Ray hadn’t been languishing in that hellhole, the Romans were unlikely to assist a woman who wasn’t a Roman citizen. To make matters worse, according to the Gospels, Pilate and Herod didn’t care much for each other.

“In the twenty-first century, we’d call it a turf battle,” he said. “Plus, the domains of local client kings weren’t fixed, so these little monarchs were constantly scheming to add to their territories. More land meant more tax revenue. I’m sure Pilate got tired of it after a while.”

“What about the worms?” I asked.

Both Lavon and Bryson looked at me blankly.

“Sharon said something about Herod dying after being eaten by worms. Worst case, if she really has to sleep with him, do we need to worry about this?”

Lavon laughed. “No, that was Herod Agrippa, the current king’s nephew. In a few years, he’ll conspire to have his uncle deposed and sent into exile.”

“Serves him right,” said Bryson.

“Serves both of them right,” said Lavon.

I thought about calling Sharon back to let her know about this, but I didn’t think it would be much comfort, at least not now.

We all wanted to rest, but we agreed to sleep in relays so that one of us would be up at all times. I volunteered for the graveyard shift — a term I hoped wouldn’t prove literal — and headed over to the sack, trusting that one of the others would wake me.

Since the moon had risen just after the sun had set, we at least had a reliable clock, and about two in the morning, Lavon shook me awake.

I ran in place for a few minutes to get my blood circulating and then wrapped a blanket around myself to ward off the chill.

Then, I decided to call out on a lark. “Sharon, are you up?”

Surprisingly, she was. For the past several hours, she had stared out her window, mulling over ideas to get away, each one more impractical than the last.

Then she lit upon the craziest scheme of all.

Her dormitory was located on the third floor of a three tiered complex, with her window facing toward the west.

Under the illumination of the full moon, she could see that only a flat grassy lawn separated the central structure from the city’s outer wall, about twenty yards away. A set of stone steps lined the wall, which allowed soldiers to ascend to the parapet that ran along the top.

A few hours earlier, she had observed a black-helmeted guard climb up in relief of the man stationed there. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, the new sentry had kicked his predecessor, who had evidently fallen asleep.

The men, however, had exchanged no harsh words. Instead, the other soldier simply got up, grabbed what looked like a wine skin, and came trotting back down.

This surprised her. She had always heard that the Roman penalty for sleeping on guard duty was death.

I explained that this was true, but that these men were not legionnaires — and the more I thought about it, what she had seen made perfect sense. Trouble, if it came, would spring from the crowded city to the east.

No robber bent on survival would try to scale a fifty foot wall when easier pickings lurked all around, and the presence of the legions ensured that no force capable of besieging the city could be found within hundreds of miles.

The sentries on the western wall had nothing to do, and they knew it.

I made the mistake of saying this to Sharon.

“Then it’s worth a try,” she said.

“Try what ?” I asked, struggling to conceal my alarm over what might be coming next.

“While the other girls were gone, I found a pile of blankets and tied them together, just in case. I hid them under my bed.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“The level below my window is only ten feet down. If I hang on to the ledge, the drop will only be about three more feet. I won’t get hurt.”

“They’ll hear you.”

“No, I don’t think so. Not if I do it right.”

“You still won’t be on the ground.”

“I’ll do the same thing, two more times, and once I’m on the ground, I won’t make any noise at all crossing the lawn. After I get to the wall, I’m certain I can climb up to the top without being seen.”

“But that soldier is still there.”

“I’ve been watching him. As soon as he got up to the platform, he started drinking, too. It’s harder to see over there now, but I can still make out a vague shape, sitting down and leaning against the wall. He’s either passed out or asleep. As soon as the moon sets completely, I’ll loop my blanket rope around one of the crenellations and head down the other side.”

“That guard can’t be the only one.”

“Any others are likely to be as drunk as this one. I’ll take my chances. I saw what those other girls had to do.”

I could only think of one thing that might stop her. “The sun might rise before the moon completely sets. If that happens, you’ll be spotted for sure.”

She hesitated, but only for a moment.

“I’ll call you when I’m ready to go. You can look to the east and tell me if the sun has started to come up.”

***

This was insane; though when she contacted me saying she was heading outside, I couldn’t bring myself to lie.

The next hour was one of the longest of my life. Had I been prone to nail-chewing, I would have probably gnawed off my fingertips. As it was, I could only move a chair over by a window and sit facing east, watching for the first sliver of dawn.

It came just as I heard Sharon’s voice.

“I made it,” she said.

“Thank God; where are you?”

“Just outside the wall. I had a couple of scary instances when I wasn’t sure my knots would hold. For a moment, I thought I might end up splattered like Jezebel.”

Like so many other names from the Bible, this one rang a bell, though I couldn’t place it.

Sharon explained that the woman had been an Old Testament queen whose reign came to a gruesome end when her husband’s rivals tossed her onto the street from an upper story window, leaving her body to be devoured by the city’s stray dogs.

“Why on earth would you remember that?”

“That’s what the preacher called us if we went dancing — Jezebels. I suppose it was nicer than ‘whore.’”

I didn’t quite see the connection, but it wasn’t time to ask.

“Can you see where you’re going?” I said.

“Only for a short distance, but the sky is getting brighter.”

I had considered her options while she made her escape. I had run through the Kidron Ravine twice and had the scars to show for it. According to the topographical map back in Boston, the valleys to the southwest of town were just as deep, and equally likely to be overgrown with dense vegetation.