Morgan Rice - Found

It was cooler in here, and finally, Sam could breathe again. Just getting the sun off his head made a difference. He was able to open his eyes, and slowly, they adjusted.

Staring back at Sam were the startled faces of dozens of people. Most sat inside small pools, individual baths, while others walked around, barefoot on the stone floor. They were all naked. That was when Sam realized: he was inside a bathhouse. A Roman bathhouse.

The ceilings were high and arched, letting in the light, and there were large arched columns all throughout. The floors were a shining marble, and small pools filled the vast room. People lazed about, apparently relaxing.

That is, until they saw. They quickly sat up, and their expressions morphed to fear.

Sam hated the sight of these people – these lazy, rich people, lounging about as if they hadn’t a care in the world. He would make them all pay. He threw his head back and roared.

Most of the crowd had the good sense to scurry out of there, to hurry to grab their towels and robes and to try to get out as soon as they could.

But they didn’t stand a chance. Sam hurled forward, lunged for the closest one, and sunk his teeth into her neck. He sucked the blood out and she collapsed to the ground and rolled into a bath, staining it red.

He did this again and again, jumping from one victim to the next, men and women alike. Soon the bathhouse filled with corpses, bodies floating everywhere, all the pools stained red.

There was a sudden crash at the door, and Sam wheeled to see what it was.

There, filling the doorway, were dozens of Roman soldiers. They wore official uniforms – short tunics, roman sandals, feathered helmets – and held shields and short swords. Several more held bows and arrows. They pulled them back and took aim at Sam.

“Stay where you are!” the leader yelled.

Sam snarled as he turned, rose to his full height, and began walking towards them.

The fire came. Dozens of arrows went hurling through the air, right for him. Sam could see them in slow motion, glistening, their silver tips heading right for him.

But he was faster even than their arrows. Before they could reach him, he was already high up in the air, leaping, somersaulting over them all. He easily covered the span of the entire room – forty feet – before the archers even relaxed their hands.

Sam came down feet first, kicking the center one right in the chest with such force that he knocked back the whole crowd, like a row of dominoes. A dozen soldiers went down.

Before the others could react, Sam reached over and snatched two swords out of two soldier’s hands. He spun and slashed in every direction.

His aim was perfect. He chopped off head after head, then turned and jabbed the survivors right through the heart. He cut through the crowd like butter. Within seconds, dozens of soldiers slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Sam dropped to his knees and sank his fangs into each one’s heart, drinking and drinking. He knelt there, on all fours, hunched over like a beast, gorging himself with blood, still trying to fulfill his rage, which was limitless.

Sam finished, but was still not satisfied. He felt as if he needed to battle entire armies, to kill masses of humanity at once. He needed to gorge for weeks. And even then, it wouldn’t be enough.

“SAMSON!” shrieked a strange female voice.

Sam stopped, frozen in his tracks. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in centuries. It was a voice he had almost forgotten, one he had never expected to hear again.

Only one person in this world had ever called him Samson .

It was the voice of his maker.

There, standing over him, looking down, a smile on her gorgeous face, was Sam’s first true love.

There, was Samantha.

Caitlin and Caleb flew together in the clear, blue desert sky, heading north over the land of Israel, towards the sea. Below them the land was spread out, and Caitlin watched the landscape change as they went. There were huge swaths of desert, vast stretches of sunbaked dirt, littered with rocks, boulders, mountains and caves. There were hardly any people, except for the occasional shepherd, dressed from head to toe in white, a hood covering his head to protect from the sun, his flock trailing not too far behind.

But as they flew further and further north, the terrain began to change. Desert gave way to rolling hills, and the color began to change, too, from a dry, dusty brown, to a vibrant green. Olive groves and vineyards dotted the landscape. But still, there were few people to be found.

Caitlin thought back to her discovery in Nazareth. Inside that well, she had been shocked to find a single, precious object, which she now clutched in her hand: a golden star of David, the size of her palm. Etched across it, in a small ancient script, was a single word: Capernaum.

It had been clear to them both that it was a message, telling them where to go next. But why Capernaum? Caitlin wondered.

She knew from Caleb that Jesus had spent time there. Did that mean he would be awaiting them there? And would her Dad be there, too? And, she dared to hope, Scarlet?

Caitlin scrutinized the landscape beneath her. She was amazed at how under-populated Israel was in this time. She was surprised to fly over an occasional house, since the dwellings were so far and few between. This was still a rural, empty land. The only cities she had seen were more like towns, and even these were primitive, with nearly all the buildings a simple one or two stories, and built of stone. She hadn’t seen any paved roads to speak of.

As they flew, Caleb swooped beside her and reached out for her hand. It was good to feel his touch. She couldn’t help but wonder, for the millionth time, why they’d landed in this time and place. So far back. So distant. So different from Scotland, from everything she knew.

She felt deep down that this would be the final stop in her journey. Here. Israel. It was such a powerful place and time, she could feel the energy radiating off of everything. Everything felt spiritually charged to her, as if she were walking and living and breathing inside a giant energy field. She knew that something momentous was awaiting her. But she didn’t know what. Was her Dad really here? Would she ever find him? It was so frustrating to her. She had all four keys. He should be here, she thought, waiting for her. Why did she have to continue to search like this?

Even more pressing in her mind were thoughts of Scarlet. She peered down at every place they passed, looking for any sign of her, of Ruth. For a moment she wondered if she hadn’t made it – but quickly put that out of her mind, refusing to allow herself to go to such a dark place. She couldn’t bear the thought of a life without Scarlet. If she learned that Scarlet were truly gone, she didn’t know if she’d have the strength to carry on.

Caitlin felt the Star of David burning in her hand, and thought again of where they were going. She wished she knew more about the life of Jesus; she wished she had read the Bible more carefully growing up. She tried to remember, but all she really knew were the basics: Jesus had lived in four places: Bethlehem, Nazareth, Capernaum, and Jerusalem. They had just left Nazareth, and were on the way to Capernaum now.

She couldn’t help but wonder if they were on a treasure hunt, following in his footsteps, if maybe he held some clue, or if one of his followers held a clue as to where her Dad was, where the shield was. She wondered again how they could be connected. She thought of all the churches and monasteries she had visited throughout all the centuries, and felt there was a connection. But she wasn’t sure what.

The only thing she knew about Capernaum was that it was supposed to be a small, humble fishing village in the Galilee, along the northwestern coast of Israel. But they hadn’t passed any towns for hours – in fact there had hardly even been a soul in sight – and she had seen no sign of any water – much less a sea.