Chapter 1

This was to be his last day on Earth. He stood at the Zion Gate in Jerusalem, facing south, watching the shadows stretch out before him as the sun rose in the eastern sky. The glare of the sun off the windshield of a slow-moving taxi cab caused him to squint.

His black overcoat hung open and swirled in the wind gusting through the narrow streets. His brand new black and white pinstriped suit was still stiff with starch and his gold watch glistened in the morning light. The freshly pressed black shirt and tie complemented his suit perfectly. He’d had his shoes polished this very morning and could almost see his reflection. His dark brown hair was tossed about by the wind.

His eyes drifted over the old bullet holes still scarring the ancient wall around the Zion Gate. The brown stones used to construct the wall had held up remarkably well over the years since it had first been assembled. He looked down at the Star of David built into the road leading into the tunnel. His wandering eyes finally found what they’d been searching for.

He stared intently at the building in the distance, the powerful gaze of his blue eyes focused only on that ancient monument. Ahead of him, atop Mount Zion, stood the Dormition Church and beside it, on the second floor, the Cenacle. That was the room where his seemingly timeless journey had started, and after waiting what seemed an eternity, this was where he wanted to be for the end. It wasn’t quite as he remembered it, but that had been so long ago. He found it remarkable how the landscape changed over time. Buildings he had believed would stand forever were torn down, although in this case the church had been rebuilt.

He held his sign loosely, content with the message he was trying to spread, his ego demanding the attention. People in long coats scurried around him, trying desperately to get home or to work before the storm moved in. The day had begun sunny yet brisk, but a severe thunderstorm was expected for later that morning.

The cold didn’t bother him on this day; he was at peace. Finally, everything he had been waiting for was about to unfold. He absentmindedly ran his right thumb over the scar running from behind his right ear and down across his throat and watched as the clouds he exhaled evaporated into the cold dawn air. He became lost in his memories, drawn backward to that fateful day. An eternity had passed since he had received that wound. It was his last mark of humanity. Everything since then had been a curse. He could hardly believe it was all about to finally end.

Drawn back to the here and now, he realized that not many people would make eye contact with him. Many would stare at him and then glance down at their shoes the minute he looked back.  Strange that they would treat him like a vagrant on the street, rambling on to himself about the end of the world. They didn’t know. They didn’t want to know. They all wanted to think he was crazy, but he knew he was right. He had been planning for so long, saving for so long, wanting for so long. Now all of his hard work would pay off. His perseverance and enormous expense would come to fruition. Now, on this day.

He didn’t speak. His sign said it all. The end is now.

© 2008 Scott L. Collins