Chris Kuzneski - The Prophecy

A half second before Payne could knock on the door, he heard the lock being opened from the inside and the security chain being jostled. Unsure who it might be, Payne raised his closed fist in the air, the military signal to halt. Everyone behind him stopped as if a cold wind had blown in from the nearby mountains and turned them into ice. For the next few seconds, the tension continued to build until the door finally swung open.

A middle-aged man wearing a sweater, slacks, and slippers stood in the doorway. He neither smiled nor frowned, his face a blank mask, his eyes devoid of emotion. He stared at the foursome in front of him, not the least bit surprised they were there. Strangely, his gaze sought them out, one after another, as if he was trying to match their faces to names he had known for years. A moment later, his comment seemed to confirm that.

‘I was told you were coming,’ Keller said in English.

‘By whom?’ Payne wondered.

‘Nostradamus.’

One by one, they entered the house without saying a word. Payne roamed the ground floor searching for anything that troubled him, but his gut told him they weren’t in danger. In fact, for the first time for several days, he felt their path was free of obstacles. Like their quest had finally come to an end. Like they were meant to be there.

In an unpredictable world, it was a feeling Payne wasn’t used to.

Keller waited for him to join his friends before he spoke again. When he did, there were no introductions or small talk. He launched into an explanation, starting with some background information about himself.

Keller walked across the room and sat in a worn leather chair that looked older than he was. Brushing the hair away from his eyes, he took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, as if he could finally relax now that his guests knew he wasn’t fanciful or the least bit crazy. Seemingly, that was important to him. He needed everyone to know he was a rational man with rational thoughts, not some random loon who searched for Bigfoot in his spare time.

‘Thirty-two years ago, my father drove me to Geneva under false pretences. He told me we were going to the city to celebrate my twentieth birthday. Instead, he took me to the bank and added my name to his safe-deposit box. At least I thought it was his box. Later in the day, he told me that wasn’t the case. It was our family box and would be until December of this year.’

He glanced around the room, making eye contact with everyone.

Keller stood again and began to pace about the room. ‘At first, I was annoyed by it all. My father had the only key, and said he would keep it until it was supposed to be mine. I had no idea what he meant by that and even resented him for it. Why had he wasted half my birthday to drag me to some bank in Geneva? None of it made any sense. I just thought it was a stupid game, a silly bonding moment between father and son.’ He paused for an instant, gathering his thoughts. ‘A few months later when I was off at school, my father passed away from pancreatic cancer.’ His voice cracked slightly. ‘I never even knew he was sick.’

Nothing was said for the next minute or two. No one knew what to say, including Keller, who walked back across the hardwood floor and

Eventually, it was Megan who got things started again.

‘What happened then?’ she asked.

‘Then I waited,’ Keller said bitterly. ‘For thirty-two years, I waited. And do you know why I waited? Because that’s what I was told to do. My father didn’t even have the decency to tell me he was dying, but he made damn sure he wrote a letter explaining what was expected of me. He left me a key and a letter, yet he never even said goodbye. How pathetic is that? Do you know how many times I wanted to destroy that box just to spite him? If it had been kept in Lausanne instead of Geneva, I probably would have done it. I would have gone to the bank in a fit of anger and smashed it with a hammer.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘In the end, I always talked myself out of it because of the money. The yearly stipend always came in handy during the holidays.’

Payne had several questions about the trust fund. How much was Keller paid? Who handled the payments? How did the keepers of the fund know he had followed his instructions? But in the end, he realized there were more important issues to focus on, starting with the obvious.

Keller smiled at the question. Relief filled his face. He was thrilled to be finished talking about his father and eager to discuss the contents of the mysterious box.

61

Keller sat forward in his chair. As he did, everyone leaned closer. They realized he was about to share a secret that had been guarded for more than 400 years, a secret penned by Nostradamus himself. None of them wanted to miss a word.

‘I was the first customer in the bank that day,’ Keller explained. ‘I couldn’t sleep the night before, so I drove to Geneva quite early and sat in my car until Capital Savings opened. Frankly, I’ve been anxious for several months now — but not for the reasons you might expect. I felt very little excitement about the contents of the box. How could it possibly live up to three decades of expectations? In truth, I simply wanted it out of my life. However, I was afraid I was going to open it and there would be a letter telling me to pass its contents onto my children. Obviously, that would have been a major problem since I don’t have any.’ Keller smirked at his own comment. ‘Despite my need for closure, I didn’t feel comfortable opening it in a viewing room at the bank. I thought my

‘You opened it here?’ Ulster asked.

Keller nodded. ‘Two weeks ago today.’

‘Do you still have it? I would love to see it.’

‘In a moment,’ he assured them, ‘but not until I’ve fulfilled my obligation. Not until I tell you everything you’re supposed to be told.’

Megan stared at him. ‘Why us?’

‘Because you were the ones who showed up,’ he answered cryptically. ‘The four of you were chosen for a reason beyond my understanding, by a man who died long ago. I am not a prophet, nor a medium of any kind. I am simply a proxy. I’ve been given a job, which I intend to do to the best of my ability. But after today, I will be done with this nonsense for ever.’

For some reason, Payne grimaced when he heard the word ‘chosen’. Somehow it made him feel like a pawn in a game he didn’t want to play. Thinking back, he realized the word had also been used in the letter to Megan. According to the translation, she had been ‘chosen for her place in time’ — whatever that meant. Now Keller was using it to describe them. If the foursome had been picked, Payne wondered why, and by

Keller continued, ‘As soon as I returned home, I took a few minutes to examine the box. Even though it had been in my possession for years, I’d never taken the time to study it. I know that probably sounds strange, but I thought the more I knew about it, the more fixated I would become. And I didn’t want to be tempted to open it. Hell, I didn’t even want to think about it.’

His voice faded slightly. The last few years had been difficult for Keller. In some ways he had felt like an addict, always battling a demon he couldn’t kill but could only push away. No matter where he went or what he did, temptation was always lurking.

‘At first I thought I would have to pry the lid open, but then I noticed the corners of the box. Three numbers had been carved into each. One on the top, and one on each side. That’s when I realized the corners were tiny pyramids that could be turned like knobs. Over the years the wood must have warped slightly, which made the knobs seem like solid corners, but once I worked out what they were, I applied enough pressure and spun them like dials on a lock.’