The Final Chapters
- Chapter 22 -
- Chapter 22 -
The Burning Bush
Jesus jumped over the fence, his long curly hair blowing in the wind behind him. He ran across the neighbours yard, crawled under the chain link fence and repeated the endeavour numerous times until he reached one of the side streets that broke off from the main road.
He stopped only for a second to catch his breath and continued running towards the abandonned sawmill. He knew that's where the Agency hid their Bethlehem branch of activity. He passed by the Burning Bush, the only club in town. For some unknown reason, it beckoned him inside. Jesus stopped to look around, made sure no one was watching him and he darted inside the club.
The place was crowded with locals and kids from neighbouring towns. It was smoky and the music resonated deep within our hero's ribcage. A large man came up to him and asked for identification. Jesus hesitated, unaware of this procedure.
At that moment, a girl with flaming red hair walked up to the bouncer and whispered something inaudible in his ear. She smiled at Jesus and gestured for him to follow her.
The attractive redhead guided him to a private room in the back of the club, next to the oversized DJ booth. When he stepped inside the room his eyes had to adjust to the stark red lights that gave the room a sombre tone. The girl took a seat on the velvet couch and brushed her shining crimson hair behind her back.
"Have a seat, Jesus. I won't bite" She said, smiling.
It was her energy that had drove Jesus to stop running. It was her energy that beckoned him inside. He sat down next to her, his palms sweaty. He was racked with nerves.
"You're so nervous. I'm not use to seeing you like this."
"We've met before?" Jesus asked, shifting in his seat. She was overflowing with joy and it made Jesus uncomfortable. She talked to him with such familiarity. He couldn't stop himself from looking into her piercing green eyes.
"I'm so sorry. You must be confused about this all. I'm Maghdalyna Saint. This may come as a shock..." She looked away from Jesus. He could tell that she was just as nervous as he was. She didn't look much older then him yet wisdom and strenght leaked through her pores. Something about her was familiar. "You may not want to believe me but this world depends on you."
Jesus hadn't expected her to say that. With everything that was happening, her statement felt oddly out of place and, he had to admit, kind of late.
"I don't know recognize you but let me assure you that I am very well aware of what's to come for me. I felt compelled to come in here. Your energy drew me in." Jesus answered.
Maghdalyna smiled, her eyes glowing with happiness. She stretched across the couch and wrapped her arms around Jesus, kissing him in the hollow of his neck. She whispered into his ear: "You being here means it's too late."
Jesus didn't move. He felt cold tears strolling down his skin. He lifted Maghdalyna's head and looked into her eyes. "Who are you?"
She composed herself and arranged her light pink blouse. She rested her hand on top of Jesus' and her eyes creased at the ends as she smiled at him. "You can call me Maggie. I want to tell you so much, Jesus." She struggled with her words and it was apparent she was holding back.
"Then tell me." He begged, pressing his hand into hers.
"I can't. You're not even suppose to be here, Jesus. You're suppose to be training and learning. Where's John and Judeyah? Where's Marty, or Maria? Where am I, Jesus?"
A shiver ran up Jesus' spine. He didn't understand what she was saying yet something about her last sentence chilled him to the bone. Where was she? She was sitting in front of him, her hand in his.
"I've said too much. There isn't much time left. You have to stop them, Jesus. You cannot let them win. The balance is depending on you."
Jesus let go of her hand. She backed away, offended.
"Why does everyone depend on me?"
"Why can't you just accept your role, Jesus? Your defiance is threatening what little good is left."
"How can I defy what I don't even understand?" Jesus shot back, unable to pronounce her name out of fear that speaking it would mean remembering her. Something about this all was just so odd. He felt detached from this, as if he was still running outside towards the sawmill.
Just as he was thinking that, he blinked and found himself standing in front of the Burning Bush. He looked around to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. The front doors were barred with wooden blanks, graffiti covering the dirty display window. The place was abandonned.
What was that? Jesus thought. He was just about to continued his run when he spotted Martin at the end of the alley besides the abandoned club.
"Jesus!" Martin screamed catching up to his nephew. He patted him on the head and hugged him almost to the point of suffocation. "I found the house in shambles, I thought you were..."
"I'm okay. What about Madonna?" Jesus asked, never thinking he would have worried about the woman he had felt so much anger towards.
"She's okay. She managed to take care of several Sicarii members. What are you doing here?"
"I was running towards the sawmill when I got...distracted. Dad, I don't think I'll fulfill the prophecy"
"And why do you say that, cowboy?" Martin asked.
"Because I just talked with Maghdalyna Saint. She told me it was too late. She mentioned John and Judeyah and I think you too. But that's not why I believe her."
Martin looked uneasy. Jesus doubted that Martin didn't expect what was coming next.
"I believe her because when she touched my hand, I felt a connection. She said she knew me and now I remember her."
"And where do you know this woman from?" Martin queried, helping Jesus find the answer that would unlock everything.
"Maggie Saint is my soulmate in this life and all the others like it." Jesus found himself saying against his will. The words had formed themselves on their own.
"I'm proud of you, cowboy. It's time for you to get ready for what's to come."