The Books of Three

Michael
It was late afternoon, almost evening and the sun was just beginning to dip behind the misty, snow-capped mountains of Montagne Noire, long bloody fingers distended into the darkening blue skies and sliced through the few puffy white clouds that had lingered through out the day in the sky. Even though the air was beginning to cool as the sun went down the air in the cabin of Michael's BMW was stifling, sweat rolled down his haggard, pale face and collected on his lip, his hands were cold and clammy with it, it tickled his spine and snaked down his chest. His wrinkled, arthritic hands were clenched tight around the steering wheel, making his gnarled knuckles white, Michael breathed heavily, laboring to bring the next round of oxygen into his starving lungs.
His vision wavered and his head spun, spots appeared in his peripherals but he didn't stop the car, time was too precious, to valuable, and unfortunately for him there was not nearly enough. Michael allowed his eyes to wander for a moment to the small package wrapped in light brown paper sitting in the seat next to him, it was innocuous and unimportant to the eyes when you first saw it but within the package was the one thing that could tip the scales. The fate of this world rested on his shoulders and that of the recipient, once Michael had delivered the package, it was out of his hands, there would be no time once the events that he had been waiting decades for were put into motion.
It would be his death that started everything, it was inevitable but no longer was he afraid, he had known from the moment that he had joined The Order what he would be asked to give. He was only one minor thread in a never-ending loom in the tapestry of life. Suddenly a gripping pain pulled on his lower abdomen, making his groan and hiss in pain while he twisted the steering wheel erratically. The car swerved and crunched in protest, several cars around him blared in indignation, Michael could no longer hear them though for the pain had spread like fire through his stomach. His body tightened with each ripple until the muscles were as taut as a bow, his vision was blackening around the edges, fading but he stared at the road resolutely. He would not give up. He clutched his stomach reflexively while straightening the wheel, with a shutter he took a deep breathe and wiped the sweat from his brow where gray and black hair was plastered to his forehead. In his mind he prayed for guidance from a God he had almost thought non-existent, he prayed for salvation and forgiveness in every language.
Now the trees were flying by, his foot was almost glued to the accelerator pushed all the way to the floor, the cars around him were a blur and the yellow lines in the road were beginning to melt together. Without taking his eyes off the road he reached for his phone and punched in a number, it rang three times before a woman answered.

"Get out of the house. Get out now." He said feebly, his voice fading. "Get out before it's too late!"

"Hello?" the woman said, her voice sounded as though far away.

"Get out! You're not safe!" he could hear the distinct crack over the line. Someone had tapped his phone.

Without hesitation he snapped the cell shut, opened the window of his car and threw it out, he watched through the rearview as it hit the ground and smashed into pieces.

"Take that, motherfucker." He said lowly.

Michael hadn't noticed though that a black SUV had pulled up behind him and was slowly accelerating, it wasn't until it bumped the back of the BMW that Michael even looked. He frowned and squinted, trying to focus his wavering vision, the SUV was on his tail, so close he could see the whites of the driver's eyes and the almost demonic smile of the man next to him. Michael's heart raced faster, the blood that had been racing in his veins turned icy. It bumped Michael's car again, ramming the back bumper hard so that Michael's car lurched forward and his forehead slammed into the black leather of the steering wheel.
The seatbelt snapped angrily and jammed so his body slammed back into the black leather seat, his foot stalled and failed to meet the accelerator before the next bump, the car stalled, slowly so that the SUV could slam one last time before Michael's car swerved into oncoming traffic where a 18-Wheeler Mack truck smashed into the side with the crunch and high keening sound of metal bending. Michael's car flipped twice before settling on the side of the road in a patch of grass. For a minute there was tense silence then a cacophony of sound blasted like a bomb, cars squealed to a halt and more cars were backended, the SUV stopped for a moment before burning rubber and accelerating down the highway.
The smell of blood, gas and burnt rubber rent the air in a perfume of death, Michael struggled to open his eyes but the pain of his injuries was slowly stealing away any strength that he had left. The car was still upside down and the left door had been completely ripped away, and Michael couldn't move his legs, the dashboard pinned them from mid-thigh down where the dashboard had collapsed on top of his legs. He pushed away the momentary paralyzing panic that threatened to swamp what was left of his strength. He could feel a trickle of blood sliding from his scalp down the back of his neck but thankfully he wasn't dizzy because of the tight pressure of the airbag that was pinning him against the seat. A sense of peaceful finality came over him, replacing all fear and panic with a set determination, somehow he could sense that he didn't have much longer, he could sense that this was his end.
Feeling every one of his 59 years Michael struggled to reach into the passenger side foot well where the package had wedged itself between the slide bar under the seat and the seat frame. Carefully he slid it out and held it loosely in his palm, it seemed to weigh nothing in his palm and a sense of power radiated from it, the desire to open the package was great but Michael knew that was the lure. Sirens wailed in the distance and voices were coming close, muffled by the poison flowing in his system.

"There was someone in that car!" a feminine voice yelled. "He might be hurt!"

"We'll wait for the police… wait…. Did anyone call the police?" a masculine voice answered.

"I did, and waiting for the police may take a long time, the man needs help now!"

"What happened?"

"That SUV…. Just came out of no where….. pushed him right into the next lane."

"What the fuck? What was that guy thinking?!"

"I think he did it on purpose."

"Did anyone get license numbers?"

"I didn't see anything sorry."

"I remember it was a Black, Chevy Tahoe. Thought it was a bit strange."

"Yeah, that's what I saw."

It sounded to be four or five people talking, a couple of women and two men from what he could distinguish, they seemed friendly enough, if not a bit haggard and scared, Michael looked out the passenger side window that had broken in the crash and saw five sets of legs.

"Someone should check on him." It was the first voice again.

"I don't think… I can smell gas."

"Don't worry about me! That man is trapped inside his car!"

"He may already be dead."

"There's a chance he's not."

Michael heard shuffling footsteps then a pair on long legs encased in dark blue denim jeans walked over, he noticed that she wore and solid pair of converse sneakers which seemed odd and didn't quite match with the authoritative voice he had heard earlier. The legs were in front of the car now.

"Is anyone in there?" she called, ducking low.

"Down… here…." He croaked.

The legs bents at the knees as she crouched and looked at the man trapped inside the car, he analyzed the simple features of the woman, from the curly, layered auburn hair, and the bright concerned turquoise eyes to the t-shirt she wore even to the sever bruises that were blossoming on her forehead and chin. She wasn't one of them. With the last of strength, Michael raised his arm and offered the package to the woman.

"Deliver…. This….. Elisha….. Carcassonne….. the second book in….. India." His voice was broken, his breathing getting shallower by the minute.

"Don't worry, help is coming, you can bring it to Elisha yourself."

"No…. You must…." He said with a semblance of a smile.

The world seemed to be swirling and fading, parting into a sea of whiteness and warmth, light seemed to fill his every pore, taking away the horrible pain that threatened to swamp him.

"Take it." He said on his last dying breathe before succumbing to the sweet light.


Torah
Torah had been driving for hours, having left Spain after an exhibit featuring 16th century history on her ways towards Saissac where she lived, and she was ready for a long hot bath and a hibernation period with the curtains shut. She had planned to come home to her charming little apartment with it's ivy covered front and roses that twisted around wrought iron balustrades, change and flop down on the bed for a quick nap, then get up, write a little and get some dinner. Maybe even unplug the constantly ringing phone that seemed to know when she was ready for a nap, already the undersides of her turquoise eyes were puffy and bruised from lack of sleep, visible through the concealer she had slapped on this morning.
Her face was stretched tight as a yawn forced her mouth open, revealing straight white teeth unblemished by coffee or chocolate, to try to wake herself up she punched the button to play the CD already in the player. The first few beats of R.E.M. blasted through the speakers, Torah tapped along to the drumbeat, humming and singing when she could remember, although most of mind was already preoccupied with writing the next chapter of her newspaper series stories. She was carefully forming backgrounds and characters in her head, concentrating most of her attention on the story while another part was concentrating on the yellow lines in the road. Ahead of her was a huge black SUV that was speeding along the lane.

"Probably a fucking American. Think they own the rode with those bloody gas guzzlers." She muttered to herself.

Impatiently she rubbed the back of her neck, trying to massage the kinks from sleeping on a cheap mattress in a less that reputable hotel, feelings of awareness and tension slid through her muscles making them spasm from time to time. Torah felt uneasy about the SUV and some part of her predicted danger. She shook off the feeling and rolled down the windows, cooler evening air washed over her tanned skin, again the uneasy feeling that something bad was about to happen struck her. Goosebumps flashed over her skins and spots appeared in her vision.

"Not again…"

With one hand she massaged her temple that had started to throb in warning, a strange pull that started in her chest seemed to tell her that something important was about to happen. The tattoo on her right hand throbbed as well, another warning. As if on cue the SUV started to swerve a little, not much but enough that Torah could a car in front of the SUV and it was swerving madly. Something wasn't right, but what was it? The SUV accelerated and just barely kissed the bumper of the silver BMW.

"What the hell?" she said to herself, raising an eyebrow the burst in a string of French expletives.

It looked as though the SUV were purposely accelerating into the Beemer, but why? Without thinking she pushed the horn and honked loudly at the SUV, it seemed to pay no attention and accelerated again. While doing this she reached for her cell that she had clipped to her jeans, it felt cool and reassuring in her shaking hand, now the tattoo was started to burn. Adrenaline raced like wildfire inside her veins, her heart beat against her ribcage painfully, never before had an attack come on so quick. Something about the vehicle was setting her on edge, not only because it was hitting the bumper but also there was a sense of…. Evil within the car.
With shaking hands she punched the number for emergency services.

"Emergency service. Please, state your emergency."

"There's some kind of car chase going on here, were on the Dubois Highway. A man in a Black SUV has been hitting the bumper of what looks like a silver BMW, and I don't think it's being done accidentally." Her voice was strained but she stated exactly what she saw.

"Please stay on the line ma'am, I'm informing the dispatcher."

In the background she heard several clicks, she could barely hear them because most of her concentration was on the two vehicles racing down the highway, unheeding of the other vehicles. She watched in surreal disbelief when the BMW finally stalled and was propelled by the SUV into uncoming traffic, unbelievably the car was hit by an 18-Wheeler. Her heart in her throat she watched the car flip over the hood of the truck, crunching the windshield before landing on the other side, dead silence followed.

"Ma'am?" said the woman on the other side of the line. "Ma'am?"

Torah couldn't hear anything because her heart seemed to have stalled in her chest. "Oh my god." She said.

"Ma'am?"

"There's been an…" Torah was cut off when the vehicle behind her rear-ended her hard.

She shot forward in the seat and hit her head hard on steering wheel, nailing her chin on the dashboard before jerking back when the airbag deployed, she dropped the phone and fought with the airbag. The tattoo on the back of her hand was flaming now, meaning something awful was about to happen, not that the accident hadn't been enough, she jerked on the door handle, fighting with panic. Finally the door opened and she made a run, through traffic, towards the car sitting on the other side. Gas was covering the space around the car, instinctively she knew it was going to blow up.

"There was someone in that car!" Torah yelled when someone tried to stop her. "He might be hurt!"

"We'll wait for the police… wait…. Did anyone call the police?" The man who had stopped her said.

"I did, and waiting for the police may take a long time, the man needs help now!"

"What happened?"

"That SUV…. Just came out of no where….. pushed him right into the next lane."

"What the fuck? What was that guy thinking?!"

"I think he did it on purpose."

"Did anyone get license numbers?"

"I didn't see anything sorry."

"I remember it was a Black, Chevy Tahoe. Thought it was a bit strange."

"Yeah, that's what I saw."

Torah looked at the car. It looked horribly beat up, windows were broken and the outer frame was totaled, she wondered if the man inside was still alive, she talked a brief moment more, yelling at the man before running away from him towards the car. The smell of gas was overwhelming but she had to be sure. She ducked low when she heard the voice that sounded like man, she peered inside the cabin and saw a hunched older man with gray-black hair looked out at her with sharp blue eyes. His face was pale and strained, bruises were scattered over his face along with a blue twinge around his pale lips. He was handing something to her, saying bits and piece of words that didn't make sense.

"Don't worry. Help is coming. You'll be able to give it to him yourself."

She pushed the hand holding the package away and leaned into the car, tugging on the seatbelt and trying to pull him from the car.

"Take this." He croaked.

He forced the tiny package into her hands, and before she knew it he was gone.

"Sir?!" she said frantically. "Please!"

She shook his shoulder, tried everything to get those big blue eyes to look at her again, tears streamed down her face, death in person was the worst thing in the world to witness.

"Ma'am!" someone was calling her. "Ma'am, please step out of the vehicle!"

Something was tugging on her waist, two hands were pulling hard of her, yanking her out of the vehicle, Torah screamed and fought with them, in the end the firemen who had been yanking her out of the car won and she was torn away.

"Someone's in the car!" she screamed the moment before the vehicle burst into a fiery explosion of color.

Flames streaked across the already bloody sky, the sound rocked everyone and nearly burst Torah's eardrums, she watched in stunned silence, her body loosing the will to fight. People were screaming all around her, running in circles, children were crying, and sirens were wailing loudly but Torah couldn't hear any of it, her hands were still wrapped protectively around the small brown paper package resting in her hands. The burning pain stopped in her hand but the uneasy feel never left, something had just begun….