Джон Литтл: The Murder of Jesus Christ

Lassiter gasped for breath and glanced behind us. His cronies were not coming to his aid.

“Pray,” said Erika.

Lassiter grunted and looked down, as if the solution to his attack was sitting on the floor in front of him. Then he fell over, grunted one more time and then was still and silent.

Behind me, I heard some shuffling and then loud footsteps. The rats were fleeing the sinking ship.

I never did ask Erika if she caused the massive heart attack that killed Lassiter. Maybe it was his time, but part of me doubts it. I think Erika, or maybe God himself, decided this was not the right time for Erika’s crusade to end.

As I was wondering that, I heard Erika stand. The ropes that had bound her were gone.

So were the ones holding me and Chris. We were free, and the ropes had disappeared, perhaps to wherever the moon had gone.

By instinct, I moved to where Lassiter was lying and checked his pulse. Nothing. I felt I should say “Good riddance,” but that’s not what I was feeling at all. I had been thinking how he’d wasted his life, and he should have taken Erika up on her plea for him to repent.

Chris, Erika, and I hugged each other.

“We need to call the police,” I said.

“No,” Erika replied.

I looked at Chris, puzzled. I think we were both wondering about the alternative.

Erika showed us.

She kneeled beside Lassiter and put her left hand on his face. She closed her eyes and seemed to be concentrating on her hand. It all seemed very odd, even though I had a rough idea of what she was trying to do. This seemed to be a day for miracles.

It didn’t take long.

After about a minute, I watched as Lassiter’s eyes opened.

“Welcome back,” Erika said.

He blinked and slowly pushed himself up, so he was in a sitting position beside her. For several minutes, he didn’t move. Rather he just stared at Erika.

Finally, he said, “I was dead.”

Erika nodded.

Lassiter looked at me and Chris. “You saw that, right? I didn’t just imagine it?”

Chris nodded. “You were dead.”

“I checked your pulse,” I added.

I felt tense, ready to protect myself or the girls if he attacked. Lassiter had no qualms about killing us all.

He was breathing heavily, and I wondered what he was planning on doing. I had no idea where my cell phone was, but something told me Erika didn’t want the police involved anyhow.

“It was horrible,” he said. “How long was I gone?”

“Only a few minutes.”

“It felt like days. I was somewhere else. I can’t describe it. It was—” He shook his head, not wanting to talk about it.

Sweat dropped from his forehead. He stared at Erika, and after a moment, I could barely hear him when he whispered, “I haven’t believed in God in a long time. I haven’t been to any religious service since I was forced to when my parents took me.” He slowly managed to get to his feet. “You really are God’s daughter.”

Erika nodded and smiled at him.

He shook his head. “All this time… I’ve been so wrong about everything.”

“It’s not too late to change. My father loves you.”

A tear rolled down his left cheek.

“How are you feeling?” Erika asked.

“As fit as I’ve ever felt.”

“Well, then, let’s go back to the church. We have a lot of work to do.”

Before that day, Erika had ten disciples. Now she had eleven.

It took some time for the crew of the Golden Luna to get their minds around the fact that they’d somehow disappeared into some unknown space and that they were now back. The ship itself seemed unharmed, and it continued to speed along at a little over three thousand miles per hour toward the moon.

However, little things were bothering them. They now needed to apply a course correction because they were heading toward the moon at a different angle than they were originally. The ship was also lower on fuel than it should have been by a substantial amount. It didn’t take long to realize that if they kept with the original plan of circling the moon and taking a shuttle down to the surface, they wouldn’t have enough fuel to return to Earth.

After hours of consultation with Mission Control, the abort decision was made.

The crew wouldn’t be meeting any aliens this trip.

The engineers on Earth uploaded a new trajectory, that would have the Luna make a small correction, aiming it close to the surface of the moon, using it as a slingshot to accelerate the ship, and send it back toward Earth.

The manoeuvre worked perfectly. When they were at the closest point, they were within a hundred miles of the surface, but not close to the alien base, so they didn’t see anything unusual. Regardless, Karen Anderson stared down at the craters below her in wonder. She knew this would be the only time she’d find herself this close to any heavenly body, and she soaked in the experience.

At one point, she felt a twitch in her belly, and she touched it. She thought it was too early to feel the baby kicking, but she wasn’t sure.

She still hadn’t told anybody she was pregnant. It was still completely impossible, but it seemed this was a voyage of impossibilities, so what was one more?

She closed her eyes and prayed, asking the Lord for safe passage home for everyone, including the un-named baby inside her. Even though she knew it was impossible, the idea of having a child was growing on her.

“Mary,” she whispered. I’m going to name you Mary. Somehow Karen knew the baby would be a girl. She couldn’t have explained how she knew that. She just did. It felt right.

On the voyage home, Karen had almost three days of nothingness. She spent part of her time looking out the viewports at the receding moon and the growing homeland. She was surprised how excited she felt at the thought of being back home.

Mostly, though, she read through various media stories trying to get caught up on Earthly events. The past few months had been spent working tirelessly on training. There was no more training to do, and now she wanted nothing more than to be home.

Hopefully with David Abelman .

She hadn’t heard from David since she’d left Earth, and she was surprised to learn from the media that he had joined the troop following Erika Sabo.

The girl who claimed to be the daughter of God.

Karen read as much as she could about the young girl with the huge story. Was it possible?

She didn’t think anybody could want the story to be true more than she did. She’d been a follower of the Lord her whole life. She remembered every detail of her Bat Mitzvah, the ritual, the celebration, the feeling that she was now an adult, even at thirteen, responsible for her own understanding of Jewish tradition, laws, ethics, and certainly for her own actions.

She took that rite of passage seriously, and her spirituality had always been the most important part of herself. Karen needed that in a partner, and she’d not found it with David. Now, though…

Karen scanned through the various photos of Erika that David had published in newspapers and magazines. There was an honesty about the pictures that captivated her.

The girl, though, not so much.

While surfing through the information she could find, she found herself on the Church of Saboism website, www.ErikaSabo.godand stared at the image of the girl looking back at her.

Sabo was smiling brightly, her eyes dark pools and captivating. She overflowed with charisma and confidence, and that alone probably explained part of her success in establishing her new so-called religion.

Across the top of the screen was a series of options for her to choose. Not surprisingly the first was labelled Donate.