Chapter Two: Trek to Nazareth
The summer solstice arriving a little over a week later, Jesus and his consort continued to take various stragglers, wandering about Jerusalem in the middle of the night. Striking from the shadows, they took soldiers who had gambled for his garments beneath his cross, and other people he recognized, they having mocked him while he walked to his crucifixion. Still intent on taking Caiaphas and another soldier that had kicked him while Decius was nailing him to the cross, they were lurking in the sparse brush outside the garrison one evening when Jesus heard a familiar voice.
“Hey, come over here,” called a voice in Latin from behind a shed near an olive grove, about thirty feet from them.
Seeing the reddish hue of the warm body standing behind the structure, Jesus whispered, “Who is it?” he and Mary moving cautiously toward the voice.
“Get your ass over here; I have to talk to you!”
“Decius!” Jesus exclaimed, recognizing the face.
“Greetings Jesus,” said Decius, nodding to the Magdalene, “Look, I have to warn you, you’d best be careful, they’re on the lookout for you.”
“Who?”
Decius looked about for a moment and replied, “Flavius Maximus and the legionary guards that’s who, and they’ve got a Greek doctor with them – he knows all about vampires.”
“Really,” said Jesus, “So, what do they intend to do?”
“Hunt you down during the day, if I were you I’d make myself scarce.”
“What do they know?” asked Mary in fair Latin.
“Not much, except there are bloodless bodies strewn everywhere, and they’re also aware of the danger oak stakes and the sun present for you.”
“I knew leaving those corpses lying about was stupid!” Mary spat, looking to Jesus.
“Never mind that woman,” said Jesus, putting up a hand in protest, “So Decius, do they have any idea where we sleep during the day?”
“No, but the doctor’s been put in as an advisor to my contubernia. We’ve been ordered to check the graveyards; I’d be on the watch for them.”
“I thank you friend Decius,” said Jesus, “Why are you doing this for us?”
“You did me a favor once friend, now I’m doing you one.”
Jesus, feeling obliged, offered his hand to the Roman soldier that had nailed him to the cross.
Firmly shaking his hand, Decius advised, “You’d best leave Jerusalem as soon as you can. As commander of the contubernia conducting the search, I can cover for you if you tell me where you’re hiding during the day.”
“You will?” asked Jesus, surprised that Decius would disobey his superiors in such a fashion.
“I’ll order them to look elsewhere, but I can't cover for long, perhaps a week at most. I swear on my honor that I will not betray you.”
“It’s the same cemetery where I was originally buried,” said Jesus, knowing in his heart the centurion was telling the truth.
“Good, we won’t look there.”
“Thank you again, friend Decius.”
“Don’t mention it, I’ve got to go now, good luck,” Decius replied, leaving the couple and heading to the garrison.
Jesus, sitting in his tomb after sunup, having heard from Decius of the pronouncements of Dr. Thucydides, spent much of the morning discussing this problem with his consort.
“We’ll have to take off,” said the Magdalene.
“Why?”
“They’re on to us, Jerusalem’s littered with bloodless bodies, and according to Decius they want to hunt us down.”
“So?”
“So what if they drag us out in the sunlight you stupid bastard!”
“Watch it woman.”
“Watch it my ass, it’s time to leave and you know it, there’s an entire world we can retreat to, why should we hang around Jerusalem tempting fate?”
“Because I haven't killed Caiaphas yet.”
“Who cares?” asked Mary, her hands in the air, “You killed most of them, who gives a damn if you missed one?”
“I do.”
“What are you, obsessed?”
“Obsessed?”
“Yes,” said Mary, “That you’d risk our destruction to get one stupid Sadducee, a mortal who wouldn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground! Forget it, he’ll die within thirty years, time will get him and we’ll have an eternity to be together!”
Jesus stood silent, troubled, knowing in his heart that she was correct. “You’re right,” he conceded, “What would I do without you?”
“Talk funny, and get burned up by the sun,” said the Magdalene, putting a hand on his arm, “Look Jesus, you’ve got to ease up and take it easy, why risk destruction to get one Sadducee?” I care about you, and have since I met you, do you really want to risk our destruction over one hypocritical, deluded man?”
“No, but - ”
“No buts,” she interrupted in a firmer tone of voice, “You’ve always been this way, obsessed, never leaving well enough alone. That’s what got you killed! We’ve been given a second chance to start a new life together, and you’ve got to complicate it with your crazy revenge, who cares about them?”
“I do,” said Jesus, in macabre imitation of his former self.
“Let it go, you got most of them.”
“Yes,” Jesus agreed, “But it’s a shame Caiaphas will get away.”
“Maybe, but you once said revenge can cloud one’s thinking. What advice would you have given someone bent on revenge when you were alive?” she asked, trying once more to get him to see reason.
“I understand, let’s get some sleep,” said an exhausted Jesus, recalling the words he had preached to a crowd in Galilee on a summer day nearly two years earlier. She’s right and using my own words against me, he thought, lying down on a slab.