Chasing the Prophet Page 15

  “I’m coming,” said Jackie, rolling the newspaper and shoving it in his pocket.

  ***

  Over the next two weeks, Jackie closely followed David’s every move.

  His friends felt that he had some unresolved issue with the young student, but had no idea what it could be. He hadn’t told them anything—besides, no one would believe him anyway, certainly not without proof.

  Jackie guessed that the key to the mystery of David’s communications with the prophet lay in his laptop, or at least in his cell phone.

  He had been on the verge of getting his hands on the device twice already, but each time something had gone wrong. He was beginning to think this was more than a coincidence.

  How come a cop had showed up out of nowhere and interfered? And what about that ATV that had nearly run them over? It was surreal. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got at David—that scrawny kid was making a fool out of him.

  “Just you wait,” he muttered. “I’ll squeeze some proof out of you soon enough.”

  He took out the newspaper again and tried to focus enough to read for the tenth time. He reached the line in which the prophet confirmed that the weather would allow outdoor events and angrily tossed the newspaper to the floor. That prophet and his bullshit. It could have been David’s words for all he knew, that little weasel.

  The phone vibrated again. Maybe it was finally Daphne? He took a quick look at the device. It was a message from Rachel this time.

  Rachel: Hi :-)

  Jackie looked at the screen pensively.

  There were all sorts of ways of squeezing out a secret.

  30

  Long Distance Runner

  The boxing champion of the world went in a coffee shop.

  He dropped his umbrella in the umbrella basket and pinned a note to it: “Warning: this umbrella belongs to the heavyweight boxing champion of the world.”

  When he was done eating, he went to take the umbrella and saw that it was gone. There was a different note pinned to the basket: “The umbrella was taken by the long distance running world champion. Thanks.”

  That old joke always made David laugh. He disliked gym class and tried to avoid them any way he could, with one exception: long distance running. Here, David depended on no one but himself—and no one else depended on him.

  When he was running—he was in control.

  When he was running—the only thing that existed was the moment, the pace, the track, and his own breathing.

  When he was running—all that separated him from success was sheer willpower.

  David had once read about the various sports and the ideal body type for each one. He found out that for marathon runners, the ideal was a light and skinny build, just like his.

  During gym, David’s class went out for a one mile run, because the prophet had promised that the rain would stop. When the teacher blew his whistle and started the students—David instantly realized how much his body yearned to jolt forward, to unwind the tension pent up inside him.

  He felt a genuine sense of elation as he hurtled onward, opening a significant gap between him and the rest of his classmates. Far behind, he heard the teacher shouting that this wasn’t a sprint and that he should conserve his energy for the remaining distance, but he was already far away from everyone.

  He turned onto the path marking the way outside the schoolyard, then dashed past the coffee shop, sprang over a deep puddle, and continued down a side street. He looked back and saw two additional runners far behind him.

  David tried to maintain a steady pace of breathing. For the first time in a long while, he felt wonderful and carefree, as if he were just another ordinary teenager, without access to endless information that burdened his chest like a massive rock.

  He continued to feel great until he saw the giant sign.

  Moses Morse and the Order of the Prophet

  are coming to Green Pines! Monday, April 30.

  A public event at the City Tower. Free Admission.

  Next to it was the prophet’s familiar hooded image, and facing it was one of Moses Morse, his eyes blazing with fire, and his finger pointing forward, like a caricature of the famous “Uncle Sam Wants You” wartime poster.

  David slowed his pace. “These fanatics are gaining power,” he muttered.

  Moses Morse. He was only too familiar with the name. Morse was the leader of a group preaching to turn the belief in the prophet into an official religion.

  At first, they were ridiculed and presented as nothing but an oddity. But over time, as the prophet gained power and all his forecasts had materialized, Morse’s religious agenda had gained much power as well. Morse and his people treated the prophet’s forecasts as “Prophecies,” imbued them with a spiritual dimension, and preached everywhere under the sun that the prophet was some kind of god.

  David knew that the more the prophet was active and creating headlines, the more the commotion around him would grow—a commotion comprised, amongst others, from delusional voices.

  But what could he possibly do? He had no control over the blind faith and the waves of admiration people decided to shower upon the prophet.

  Lately, the Order’s members had published a petition calling for the building of a temple in honor of their “God.” Last time he had checked, David was shocked to discover over eighty thousand signatures had already been collected.

  As for Moses Morse, well, he was a delusional phenomenon all of his own. The man used every stage to announce that he had a direct channel of communication with the prophet, an ability which allowed him to be up-to-date with future developments before anyone else.

  This was absurd: David had never spoken or corresponded with Mr. Morse. He guessed that the man had simply been following his publications and then announcing them on his own platforms.

  That damn sign, hanging high above the road, made David forget all about the joy of running. He shook his head angrily and increased his pace. As a bend in the road appeared, David yearned for the moment in which the sign would finally disappear behind the treetops. He craved the relaxation that came with yielding to the running, the pace, the silence.

  But then he heard a dog barking, and then another. The more he advanced up the path, the more barking he heard, until they joined into a chorus of barking dogs. He continued running and stretched his neck forward until seeing another sign beyond the bend: “Adopt a Friend for Life.”

  David was familiar with the SOS Pet Rescue logo; it was the association where he had adopted Max about a year ago. Grandma had taken him there as a surprise. It had been, beyond doubt, one of the happiest days of his life.

  David continued to run along the marked path and looked at the adoption yard. Dozens of people were inside, along with dogs of every conceivable breed, shape, and age. A woman noticed him as he ran by the fence and waved hello to him.

  It was Mrs. Shirley Wallace, his English teacher. For some reason, he got the impression that she was sad, and without knowing why, he ran past the gate and went to her.

  31

  One Hundred Thousand Believers

  Jackie followed David from a distance. When he saw him going for a run outside the school, he knew he had a golden opportunity to finally catch him.

  Jackie had no doubt that the moment he got his hands on his cell phone, he’d get David to cough up the password. A few slaps and that skinny little bitch would sing it like a pop star, Jackie was sure of it. Let’s see how brave he was without any cops around.

  But something had gone wrong. He hid in waiting at a certain point beside the track, and David had nearly reached it—but then decided to change direction at the last moment and turned into the yard full of dogs and people.

  “This kid is seriously getting on my nerves,” Jackie hissed as he carefully approached the fence. Inside, he saw David talking to a woman he knew,
a teacher from school.

  A moment later they were walking together, deeper into the adoption center. He was about to enter and follow them, but the barking dogs made him hesitate. It suddenly seemed that they all wanted to lunge at him. Instinctively, he reached down to the sore spot on his ankle where Max had bitten him.

  “Excuse me!”

  Jackie looked and saw two good-looking young women. They were only slightly older than him, and they were wearing white skirts and white shirts with the Order of the Prophet’s logo. They stood next to a small stand with a sign that proclaimed: “The Order is coming to Town.”

  One of them smiled at him. “Yes, you! Are you coming today?”

  Jackie blinked at her. “Coming? Where?” He wanted to get inside before David completely disappeared from sight, but something made him linger. He had never encountered any of the Order’s activists before.

  So he smiled his heart-melting smile and approached the stand, which was laden with promotional material: leaflets bearing explanations about the Order of the Prophet and its mission; buttons, pins, and flags bearing Moses Morse’s picture; membership forms and donation boxes.

  He went to the girl who had addressed him. For a moment, he thought how innocent her blue eyes looked, like a little girl’s.

  “What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.

  Her reaction was quicker than he had expected. “Shelly.” She smiled, exposing two rows of white teeth. “And yours?”

  “Jackie. Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand. Shelly shook it with a smile, then noticed that his eyes were scouring her body from top to bottom. She took a step back and blushed.

  “All right, Jackie.” She tried to speak with a more formal tone. “Like I said, the Order of the Prophet has arrived in Green Pines.” Her voice rose and became more enthusiastic as she continued. “We’re meeting this evening at the City Tower. Our purpose is to build a temple!” She saw the bemused look in his eyes and added, “I meant to say that non-believers should come too. It’s going to a magnificent celebration!”

  The enthusiasm in her voice grew even further. “Moses Morse himself will say some words, and then he will hold an open discussion. Look, all the information is right here!” She pushed a colorful brochure into his hand. “And we’ll have refreshments too!”

  Jackie looked at the brochure for a brief moment, then raised his eyes to look at her again. “I have a more important question for you, Shelly. Are you going to be there?”

  She laughed. “Of course I will. And I’ll be delighted to see you there.” She smiled again.

  “It’s a date, then.” He winked at her and turned to leave, allowing her to accost a new group of people who had approached the stand with curiosity in their eyes. “You’re here to adopt a dog? How wonderful! Then maybe you have a moment to hear a word or two about the Order of the Prophet?”

  Jackie looked around. No doubt that the stand was drawing a lot of attention. The two attendants worked hard to answer everyone’s questions and distribute brochures. A few people were even filling out membership forms. He examined the brochure in his hand and read its title: 100,000 believers demand the building of a temple for the prophet!

  He searched around for David again, and found him far inside the compound. Then he recalled something his father had once said during a family dinner: “Knowledge in power, so it’s very important to nurture the sources of your knowledge.”

  Clive had held his fork and pointed forward with it, emphasizing the point. “Just imagine that you could know when a certain epidemic would break out. A few months before, you’d start manufacturing hundreds of thousands of vaccines and release a limited number to the market. Just a thousand, let’s say. And then…” He paused for a moment to look at the family members around the table. “When the epidemic breaks and people are desperate to be rescued—everyone is talking about your vaccine, and that’s your time to sell the rest of the merchandise at an insane profit.”

  “That much is clear, Dad. But there’s a problem,” Brandon, Jackie’s older brother, objected. “Nobody can tell when an epidemic would break. I mean, other than the prophet.”

  “That was just an example,” their father responded calmly. “An example for the kind of power the wielders of knowledge have. Take the stock exchange, for example. Those who know to predict where the wind will blow… well, it’s like picking up money from the floor.”

  “That’s why you can’t sell inside information,” said Keith, the second brother.

  “You mean, you can’t be caught selling it,” Jackie said quietly and everyone started laughing, but he would never forget his father’s reaction.

  Clive had looked at him, nodded, and said, “There’s a future for the Richmond family.”

  Jackie decided it was time to get inside the compound before David and the teacher vanished from his sight. But there were too many dogs separating him from them.

  He entered through the gate with fear and almost bumped into a man standing next to it, supported by a cane. Jackie shook his head, angry at himself over his unreasonable fear of dogs. He leaned on the fence and fished out a cigarette to muster some courage.

  A loud bark made him jump with a start. He turned in panic and saw a miniscule Pinscher barking at him fiercely.

  “Tiny, don’t scare this young man!” a woman sitting in a chair scolded the little dog. She stroked it softly and raised her eyes to Jackie. “You have nothing to be afraid of. Come on, give Tiny a pet, let him know you’re a friend.”

  Jackie had had enough. He had to get as far as possible from that place. He turned around and walked away, took out his phone, and dialed Thomas.

  His friend answered immediately. “What’s up? Did you get him?”

  “Not really. But I have an idea. Wait for me with the rest of the guys by the school gate.”

  32

  Shady Business

  Paul stood at the corner of the compound holding a puppy in his hands. He was watching David.

  The most important rule of surveillance was to lose yourself in the crowd at any cost. This time, he had no problem paying the cost. The little puppy insisted on licking his nose. He took a picture of it with his cell phone and messaged the image to Kate.

  Paul: Working hard, as you can see.

  David was standing about a hundred feet away from him, speaking with a woman. Jackie was there as well. The oversized teen had nearly bumped into Paul as he had fearfully entered through the gate. He seemed startled by the commotion of barking dogs and clearly did not seem to belong there.

  David now parted from the woman. He appeared to be distressed. A few feet later, he raised his head and swiftly walked out the gate to the winding track and started running again.

  Paul knew he would not be able to hobble after David in his current condition. He returned the licking puppy to the young woman who cared for it.

  “Thanks, he’s really cute,” he said with a smile. He leaned on his cane and started following Jackie, who walked back in the direction of the school.

  A few minutes later, they neared the school. He looked at Jackie, who walked to the gate where a few of his friends waited for him.

  Paul raised his eyes in the direction of the path and saw David from afar. The boy slowed the pace of his running and instead of continuing to the gate, turned to the nearby commercial center. Paul followed him cautiously.

  The place contained several stores and David walked toward one of them. A large sign hung above the entrance: W.W.W—Internet Services.

  One didn’t need to be an experienced detective to figure out what services the place had to offer. Paul felt angry over the fact that a gambling hall was located right next to a school. Were there such shady businesses next to his daughters’ kindergarten as well? The thought filled him with disgust.

  He looked at David. Why had the boy entered such a store
? As time passed, Paul began to suspect that David might be involved with something unusual. After all, it wasn’t for nothing that he had been hired to follow the boy.

  But what the blazes was this all about? What were they hiding from him? He took out his phone, snapped a picture of the storefront, and sent the image to Gabriel with the message.

  Paul: Find out whatever you can about this place.

  Then he went inside the building and settled himself on a bench not far from David. From where he was seated, Paul could clearly observe all of the boy’s movements: he unfolded a newspaper on the table, took his cell phone from his pocket, and coughed in its direction.

  “Gesundheit,” muttered Paul. The boy must have caught a cold.

  David took a betting ticket and a pen from the table. For the next few minutes, he was occupied with filling it in.

  Paul’s cell phone buzzed. It was a text from Gabriel.

  Gabriel: Nothing special to report. Just a sports bookie.

  Paul shrank in his chair when David rose to his feet, went to pay the man behind the counter, and exited.

  “What secrets are you hiding?” Paul muttered as he quickly picked up his cane and followed the boy on to the street.

  Before he could walk more than a few paces, David panicked and started running back toward the school. Jackie and his gang quickly approached him. David ran to the gate, but another teen, a blond one, waited for him there.

  David saw him and immediately changed direction. Jackie and his friends quickly followed.

  Paul leaned on his cane and observed the chase with concern. The group of boys ran further away down the street, narrowing the distance between David and themselves.

  The scenario Paul had feared most was materializing right in front of his eyes. He had to stop the chase immediately. He quickly dialed Gabriel, but to his disappointment, the call went into voicemail.