Found. Morgan RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
leading down to the ocean. As she followed its trail, through a town gate, in the distance, she saw the glimmer of the ocean.
She nudged Caleb, and he saw it, too, and followed her as she walked out the town, towards the shore.
As they neared the shoreline, Caitlin saw three small, brightly-colored fishing boats, weathered, half-beached on the sand, bobbing in the waves. In one sat a fisherman, and standing beside the other two, ankle deep in the ocean, were two more fishermen. They were older men, with gray hair and matching beards, faces as weathered as their boats, suntanned, deeply lined. They wore white robes and white hoods to block out the sun.
As Caitlin watched, two of them hoisted a fishing net and dragged it slowly through the waves. They pulled at it, fighting the waves, and a small boy jumped out of one of the boats and ran to the net, helping them pull it in. As it reached the shore, Caitlin saw they had caught dozens of fish, squirming and flopping. The boy squealed in delight, while the old men were somber.
Caitlin and Caleb had snuck up on them so quietly – especially with the sound of the crashing waves – that they still didn’t know they were there. Caitlin cleared her throat so as not to startle them.
They all wheeled and looked her way, and could see the surprise in their eyes. She didn’t blame them: they must have been a shocking sight, the two of them, dressed in all black from head to toe, in modern leather, battle gear. They must have looked as if they’d dropped straight down from the sky.
“We are sorry to bother you,” Caitlin began, “but are we in Capernaum?” she asked the nearest fellow.
He looked from her to Caleb, then back to her. He slowly nodded back.
“We are looking for someone,” Caitlin continued.
“And who might that be?” the other fisherman asked.
Caitlin was about to say “my Dad,” but then stopped herself, realizing that wouldn’t do any good. How would she describe him anyway? She didn’t even know who he was, or what he looked like.
So, instead, she said the only person who came to mind, the only person they might recognize: “Jesus.”
She half expected them to mock her, to laugh at her, to look at her as if she were crazy – or to have no idea who Jesus was.
But to her surprise, they didn’t seem surprised by her question; they took her seriously.
“He left two weeks ago,” one of them said.
Caitlin’s heart skipped a beat. So. It was true. He was really alive. They were really in his time. And he had really been here, to this village.
“And all his followers with him,” said the other. “Only the old folks like us and children stayed behind.”
“So he’s real?” Caitlin asked, in shock. She could still hardly believe it; it was almost too much to comprehend.
The boy stepped up, walking close to Caitlin.
“He fixed my grandpa’s hand,” the boy said. “Look at it. He was a leper. Now he’s healed. Show her, grandpa,” the boy said.
The old man slowly turned and pulled back his sleeve. His hand looked perfectly normal. In fact, as Caitlin looked closely, she saw one hand actually looked much younger than the other. It was uncanny. He had the hand of an 18-year-old boy. Pink, rosy and healthy – as if he’d been given a new hand.
Caitlin couldn’t believe it. Jesus was real. He really healed people.
Seeing this man’s hand, this man who was once a leper, perfectly healed, sent a chill up her spine. It brought it all home. For the first time, she had hope that she might really find him, and really find her Dad, and the Shield. And that they might lead her to Scarlet.
“Do you know where he went?” Caleb asked.
“Jerusalem, from what we hear,” yelled out one of the other fishermen, over the sound of the crashing waves.
Jerusalem, Caitlin thought. It felt so far away. They had flown all the way up here, to Capernaum. And now, it was feeling like a wild goose chase. After all that, they would have to turn around and leave empty-handed.
But she could feel the Star of David burning in her hand, and she felt certain that there had to be a reason they were sent to Capernaum. She felt there was something more, something they needed to find.
“One of his disciples is still here,” a fishermen said. “Paul. You can ask him. He might know exactly where they’re going.”
“Where is he?” Caitlin asked.
“Where they all spent their time. The old synagogue,” the man said. He turned and pointed back over his shoulder with his thumb.
Caitlin turned and looked over her shoulder, and there, sitting on a hill, overlooking the ocean, she saw a beautiful, small, limestone temple. Even in this time, it already looked ancient. Bedecked with intricate columns, it looked out over the sea, with a direct view of the crashing waves. Even from here, Caitlin could sense that this was a holy place.
“It was Jesus’s synagogue,” one of the men said. “It was where he spent all his time.”
“Thank you,” Caitlin said, beginning to walk towards it.
As she walked, the man reached out and grabbed her arm with his new, healthy hand. Caitlin stopped and looked at him. She could feel the energy pulsing through his hand, into her arm. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was a healing, comforting energy.
“You’re not from here, are you?” the man asked.
Caitlin felt him looking into her eyes, and could tell that he was sensing something. She realized there was no use in lying to him.
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
He stared back at her for a long time, then slowly nodded, satisfied.
“You will find him,” he said to her. “I can feel it.”
Caitlin and Caleb walked up the shore, waves crashing beside them, the smell of salt heavy in the air. The cool breezes were refreshing, especially after so much time in the desert heat. They turned and ascended a small hill, at the top of which sat nestled the ancient synagogue.
Caitlin looked up as they approached: built of a worn limestone, it seemed as if it had been here for thousands of years. She could feel the energy coming off the place; this was a holy place, she could tell already. Its large, arched door was ajar and creaked as it swayed in the wind, rocked by the ocean breezes.
As they hiked up the hill, they passed clumps of wild flowers, growing seemingly right out of the rock, in an array of bright desert colors. They were the most beautiful flowers Caitlin had ever seen, so unexpected, so unlikely in this desolate place.
They reached the top of the hill and walked right up to the door. Caitlin felt the Star of David burning inside her pocket, and she knew this was it.
She looked up and saw over the doorway, embedded in the stone, a huge, golden star of David, surrounded by Hebrew letters. It was amazing to think that she was about to enter a place where Jesus had spent so much time. Somehow she had expected to enter a church – but, of course, as she thought about it, she realized that wouldn’t make sense, since churches weren’t built, of course, until after he died. It seemed strange to think of Jesus in a synagogue – but then again, after all, she knew he had been Jewish, and a Rabbi, and so it made perfect sense.
But what relevance did all of this have for her search for her Dad? For the shield? She was increasingly feeling that all this was connected, all the centuries and times and places, all of the searching in all the monasteries and churches, all of the keys, all of the crosses. She felt that a common thread was sitting there, right before her eyes. Yet she still didn’t know what.
Clearly there was some holy, spiritual element to whatever it was she needed to find. Which also seemed strange to her, because after all, this was a world of vampires. But then again, as she thought about it, she realized this was also a spiritual war, between