

"Scott adds a context around the existing scriptures that helped me to think about what it would be like to be Lazarus... the danger, the fear, the uncertainty about being given a second chance."

  * Julie Van Meter, author of A Beautiful Gift

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**This is the story of Lazarus of Bethany, told through tale and tribulation.**

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"This book takes us through the events after Lazarus' rising from the grave and his feelings of being lost, disoriented perhaps. This brings a very human aspect to the miracle."

\- CMTStibbe, author of Chasing Pharaohs

Breakwater Harbor Books presents by Scott. J. Toney

Books by Scott J. Toney

Dusk Crescence

The Ark of Humanity

Eden Legacy

Lazarus, Man

# Lazarus, Man

Scott J. Toney

Copyright Scott J. Toney 2012

Published by Breakwater Harbor Books at Smashwords

Breakwater Harbor Books, Inc.

Scott J. Toney and Cara Goldthorpe, Co-Founders

www.breakwaterharborbooks.weebly.com

Cover by David Lockhart

Author e-mail – poeticliscence@hotmail.com

Cover Artist e-mail – lockhartdesigns999@gmail.com

First Paperback Printing, March 2012

Dedications

This book is dedicated to God; for all that he has taught me and all that he has given me in my life. When things seem darkest God is always here, leading the way. I thank him for my wife, my daughter, our family, friends and home. I thank him for giving hope when I see none and for loving humanity enough to give us salvation.

It is also dedicated to the unborn baby that my wife and I lost while Lazarus, Man was being written. We lost our little one at twelve weeks of pregnancy and we miss our baby dearly. Someday we'll be with our child in heaven. God leads us through pain. This story is for you, baby. In it is my love for you.

Acknowledgments

My wife has been an amazing supporter and editor of this book and her love and dedication are infinitely important to me. Lazarus, Man would not be as well written without her. Because of her it is a better book and I am a better man.

I also give a great thanks to Ivan Amberlake, author of The Beholder, for all of his editing advice. In the early stages of Lazarus, Man he supported the book and urged me onward. Having a fellow author and friend like Ivan is invaluable.

0

Darkness.

Nothing.

There was a void in the world around him, without light or sound.

A heaviness weighed on Lazarus' soul as he grasped for being. He sensed in the darkness there had been light only moments before but he could not grasp what that light was.

Suddenly he felt a pulse in his chest. Something heavy held his body firm. Memories flooded through his mind of heat, cattle... family. _Where are my sisters? What has happened to me?_

The world was somehow wrong.

He tried to move but found he could not, could not raise the heaviness above him. He smelt earth.

Then, with a thrust, he pushed his bound arms out of the cave soil he was buried in and braced them on the earth, using his weakened strength to pull upward. Earth caved in about him as he rose from his grave, his arms and legs bound with bandages. There was a cloth over his face he could not remove. He saw a faint light before him through the cloth.

"Lazarus, come out," a voice beckoned.

He walked slowly in his bandages toward the light and could feel a warm breeze move about him. The sun radiated in the cloth over his eyes.

"Unbind him, and let him go," the voice returned.

He felt coarse hands on his arms as bandages were unwrapped from him. Coolness came over his skin where they had been. Lazarus breathed heavily, unsure of what was happening. He had a vague memory of being sick before this. He was barely aware of who he was.

The cloth over his face was pulled away and he squinted as sunlight blinded him. A bearded man with long wavy hair stood in the light. _Jesus,_ he thought in disbelief as the man approached, placing his palm on Lazarus' forehead.

"You are healed, brother," Jesus told him as Lazarus' sisters rushed to his side. "You are still needed in this world." There was a crowd gathered beyond the cave's entrance.

"Brother..." Martha cried and kissed his cheek. Her soft hands grasped one of his. Tears streamed down her face. "What a blessing..."

Mary had embraced him and was kneeling before Jesus now. "Thank you, Jesus. How could we doubt you are the son of God?"

"Rise, sister," Jesus told her. "There is no need to kneel for me. God's grace is given freely. It is him who we should praise."

"And through you he has raised our brother from his tomb. We are forever in your debt."

Jesus took her hand and helped her to rise. "All I ask is your belief and your mouths to spread God's word in the coming days. Our people will soon face days when believing is much harder than it is now. But come, let us rejoice in what God has done."

He turned to Lazarus, embracing him. Lazarus felt the warmth of the man and felt his sense of confusion change to a feeling of peace. When Jesus pulled his arms away Lazarus walked out into the sun, through the awestruck crowd toward his home.

A sheep baaed as he passed. He opened the front door to his home and headed to his room, lying down on his straw bed, closing his eyes and giving in to darkness and rest.

1

Six days before Passover Lazarus sat at a large table made of coarse wood in his eating room. Candle flames flickered before him as wax dripped down the candlesticks. His sisters had invited Jesus to dine with them and had prepared a meal of lamb, wine and bread for their guest. The full aroma of cooked lamb wafted over him.

Lazarus had been searching for purpose in the days since Jesus had resurrected him from the dead. He had even returned to his grave, feeling the soil he had been buried in and feeling a cold connection to the place. He was distant, lost.

"They will be here soon," Martha spoke as she entered the room with several loafs of bread on a plank of wood. "They are approaching on camels. You should greet their arrival."

Lazarus looked to the tops of his hands, following his veins with his sight, looking at their slight pulse beneath his skin. _Why was I chosen? This lost feeling will not leave me._

"Why do you act like this?" Martha questioned him. "You should be thankful. What a miracle he has given you."

He sat silently. "No," he replied. "I am not sure of that, a blessing and a curse." He looked up to meet her eyes and then turned to look into the flame of one of the candles. "I will await him here." The candle flame licked and curled.

As Martha left the room he heard the commotion of men dismounting their camels and greeting his sisters and their servants. Soon the men entered the eating room and gathered around his table. There was barely room for them all and Jesus came to his side, placing his hand on Lazarus' shoulder. He sat down beside Lazarus.

"How are you, my brother?" Jesus asked. "You do not seem well, and yet you have life when you did not before. Do you not realize God's gift that you have received?"

Lazarus looked to the handsome man's face. His presence made him feel at peace. "To be dead, to pass on from life and then return is strange. Why did you choose to make me return?"

Jesus placed his hand on Lazarus' own. It was warm. "So that others would see and believe, for them to know I am the son of God. And not just for them, you will do great things, Lazarus."

"Thank you," Lazarus said as Mary and Martha entered the room with pitchers of wine. They filled the goblets around the table as servants brought the lamb.

"Have faith," Jesus assured him.

Before the feast they joined hands. They thanked the Lord for what they would eat, for the lamb's sacrifice and for the love and dedication the Lord had for them. They thanked him for friendships, family and faith.

Lazarus ate little and did not speak for the remainder of the meal. Instead he was deep in thought about why Jesus said he had been raised from his tomb. _"So that others would see and believe..."_ He lived so that others would believe. The gift of life wasn't specifically meant for him. Somehow this helped him make sense of his new existence. _And yet he says I will do great things?_

When they had finished eating and resigned to conversation Mary rose from the table and returned with a pitcher of sweet smelling perfume. She came to Jesus' side. "Can I bathe your feet?" she asked. "You have done so much for us. It would please me to do this for you."

Jesus turned from the table and looked to her. "I would be honored, Mary."

She moved a wooden stool to his side as he removed his sandals and rested his bare feet on it. Mary anointed his feet and wiped them with her hair, filling the house with the fragrance of the ointment.

"Thank you," Jesus spoke to her. "Your heart warms me."

"It is my pleasure to share what I have with you," she said as she took the pitcher of ointment and went to leave the room.

Lazarus was shocked to watch Judas, one of Jesus' disciples, stand from the table after a long drink of wine and look with anger at her. "Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?"

Jesus sat calmly. "Let her alone, let her keep it for the day of my burial. The poor you will always have with you, but you do not always have me."

As Lazarus thought about Jesus' words, he heard a mass of voices beyond his home's walls. Dusk was setting upon them, candle and sconce light illuminating the room.

"Who has gathered outside?" John, another of Jesus' disciples, asked.

Lazarus felt Jesus set his warm hand on his back. "Let us see. Will you walk with me, Lazarus of Bethany?" The disciples rose from the table as well as Martha.

Lazarus rose with Jesus' hand still on his back. "Yes," he said and followed Jesus and his disciples out of his eating room, through the hallway and out the front door where sconces of flame lit the outer doorway. A crowd had gathered. They silenced when they saw Jesus.

One man stepped forward and the light illuminated him more than the rest. "Is it true you have raised the man, Lazarus, from his tomb? We have traveled far to witness your miracle."

Lazarus stepped forward and could feel the desert's warm breeze flow over him. "I am Lazarus who Jesus raised from the tomb. These are my lands."

There were gasps of breath and awe as the crowd kneeled before Jesus.

"Hail the son of the Lord," the man who had spoken said. "No-one less could raise a man from the dead."

Lazarus walked amongst them and extended his hands so they could feel what the Lord had done.

2

The dark of night was consuming him as Lazarus awoke to voices outside his home. It had been four days since the dinner with Jesus and he had heard his servants speaking in hushed voices, saying the Pharisees had marked him to be killed. He reached for his lamp and prepared to start a flame, then thought better of it and sat still.

"Where is Lazarus of Bethany, the man Jesus claims to have raised from his tomb?" a deep voice resonated through the wall.

"He is in the fields with the sheep, protecting them from wolves." Martha's voice held fear.

"Do not lie to us, woman, we know this man is within your home." He heard the clanging of armor and thud of boots as someone dismounted. "You will be crucified with Lazarus if you keep him from us."

Lazarus grasped for his shoes in the darkness, slipping them on his feet. He shook with fear.

"He is not here," Mary's voice was firm.

There was a thud and a scream as Lazarus leapt forward, stumbling to the end of his bed and shoving his hand into a hole in the straw mattress. There was a leather bag filled with denary in his hand as he withdrew it. _Please forgive me. I will return,_ he thought to his sisters as loud thudding noises made their way toward his room.

"Wait! You can't go in there!" he heard Mary call out.

He went to the window in the back of his room, braced his hands on its cool stone windowsill and hoisted himself from the darkness of his room into the starlit night. The moon was full above.

"Where is he?" the deep voice called from his home.

Lazarus did not look back, did not go toward his stables for fear of men posted there. Instead he ran into the starlit night across the desert's cool sands. There was a grove of trees in the distance where he could hide and decide where next to turn.

Starlight silhouetted the sand around him as he ran and Lazarus felt as if he were being illuminated by God himself and given to the Pharisees. His calves burned and his head pulsed as his robe flowed against him. There was a full moon overhead.

Sand kicked up behind him as he ran and a night bird flew through the starlight in the distance.

His body became heavy. His heart raced. His chest heaved in pain. _I cannot stop. They will follow my tracks through the desert,_ he thought and looked back to see men on horseback heading his way in the moonlight. They were far back but he knew they would eventually reach him. _Why bring me back from the dead, Lord, and then take back what you have given?_ he prayed.

Lazarus' foot hit on a stone buried in the sands and he pummeled down, sand bursting up around him. He grasped for the bag of denary he had lost in the fall, clasping its rope tightly and pulling the bag back to him as he pressed his arms down to stand.

Suddenly he heard the howl of wind charging across the earth and lay flat again against the desert. A great wall of sand rose in the moonlight, rushing toward him then stinging at his exposed skin as it whipped over where he was. _Thank you, Lord,_ he thought, knowing his footprints would be covered up by the wind and hopeful his pursuers would not be able to locate him.

_I must go to the tree grove._ Lazarus tied his bag to his waist and went to a crawling position. He wrapped a cloth tight over his face, leaving only his eyes exposed, and breathed a thick breath through the cloth as he began crawling through the storm.

As he crawled through the stinging sand he prayed, certain it was the Lord who had saved him, and after an hour of slow movement and howling wind the silhouettes of trees blew in the moonlit haze. With a look back, Lazarus could see nothing but gusting sand and darkness. Soon he was amongst the blowing trees and let himself curl up beneath one of them. He closed his eyes and let his body rest.

חַי

Warm sunlight blinded him as Lazarus awoke in the tree grove, seeing a round aura of sunlight mirroring the sun's form above. He drew his hand into his long sleeve. His exposed skin had begun to burn as he slept. _I survived the night._ He smiled to himself, knowing that surviving until morning was a feat in itself. _What place do I go from here? I cannot return home. Who knows what awaits me there?_

He looked to the open expanse of sand behind him. It stretched far in the distance until a city rose up from the blurred horizon. Jericho was there and beyond the city was the Jordan River. He had friends there who would protect him, but braving the distance without horse or mule could prove too much. To his other side, past the desert, was a sparse expanse of trees and beyond them was Bethlehem, Jesus' birthplace.

_Jesus. It is rumored the Pharisees pursue him as well._ It struck Lazarus what he should do. _I need to go to him, to warn him of their intents._ Before Jesus and his disciples parted ways with Lazarus, Jesus had mentioned heading through Jerusalem toward the center of Judea. Jerusalem was the closest city and its city line was near on the horizon.

Lazarus wrapped the cloth tight over his face once more and stood. His legs felt weak and his stomach grumbled with hunger. The meal of hen and bread he had eaten the night before would have to do him until he reached Jerusalem. A bird cawed overhead.

One foot in front of the other, Lazarus traversed the desert. He wasn't alert in the sun of the day but instead focused on the blurred city in the distance. Sweat dripped down his brow and back. His waist ached where the bag of denary remained tied to him.

Closing his eyes he moved onward, and as hours passed he began to hear the faint sound of carts being pulled and men and women's voices. It was mid-day and the sun's heat stuck to him.

Lazarus opened his eyes and allowed energy to drain from him as he looked on the outer homes of Jerusalem and a boy with a cart in the dirt streets before him. _I am here._ He breathed a deep breath and walked onto the dirt road.

"Sir!" the boy called out to him. "Would you care for a fig or a loaf of bread?"

Lazarus walked toward the youth. "How much? Do you have water as well?"

The boy lifted a fig from the bowl before him and held it up. "One denary will buy one fig and this loaf of bread." He motioned to a loaf of bread on the cart before him. "And I have a flask of water I will share with you as a gift to a man who has braved the desert."

"Thank you." Lazarus breathed a heavy sigh as he opened the bag at his side, withdrew one denary and handed it to the boy. The youth handed him the fruit and he bit into it, enjoying its rich juices on his palate and the meat of it as it nourished him. "May I drink of the flask?"

"Drink what you like. I keep much for travelers across the sand." The youth reached down and brought a flask to Lazarus' hands.

Lazarus had removed the cloth from his mouth and drank fully of the warm water. It rejuvenated him and he felt energy rising in his body once more. He looked forward to eating the golden loaf of bread. "Have you heard word of where Jesus of Nazareth is?" he asked as he passed the flask back.

There was a look of fear in the boy's eyes. "He is being tried by Pilate in the palace."

"For what?" Lazarus was in disbelief that Jesus had been taken captive. "What could he have done?" He took the loaf of bread from the boy and tore a chunk to eat. He was too late to warn the man. Was there anything else he could do?

"They say he claims to be the Messiah and that he claims he will tear down the temple and rebuild it as has been prophesied." There was a moment of silence between the two as the boy gave him a cautious look. "Why do you ask?"

"I've heard it said that Jesus raised a man from his tomb in Bethany. I have a sick son and I seek him because of this." Lazarus began walking away as he tore off another piece of bread.

"I am sorry for your son!" the boy called after him. "I am friends with a man who saw Lazarus of Bethany emerge from the darkness of his tomb. Surely they will find Jesus guilty. How could such a man not be the Messiah?"

Lazarus did not look back. He tore another piece of bread with his mouth and wrapped his cloth tightly over his face once more. _If I am recognized then I will be seized and sentenced with Jesus._ He continued through the streets, walking in the shadows when he could and heading toward the temple mount where he knew Jesus would be tried. There were soldiers in the streets before him. He continued on, determined to help Jesus in some way.

3

Throngs of men and women had amassed at the temple mount, noisily arguing and moving against each other as they tried to get better positioning to the praetorium where Jesus was being questioned by Pilate. Soldiers positioned outside scanned the crowd with stern looks on their faces.

Lazarus was amongst the masses, hiding behind the cloth over his face, in a dense group of people. He hoped he would not be noticed but could not stay away from this place. He felt drawn to Jesus, felt a connection to the man that he could not explain.

Anger was building in the crowd because of what they said Jesus had claimed, that he was the Messiah. Some of the group whispered Jesus should be put to death while others remained silent and appeared to avoid looking to the praetorium.

A hush fell over the crowd as Pilate walked out of the structure and into the sunlight, surrounded by soldiers. His red robe flowed in the breeze. Lazarus watched warily. "I find no crime in Jesus of Nazareth," the thin man declared. "But you have a custom that I should release one man for you at Passover. Will you have me release for you the King of the Jews?"

Lazarus felt struck as the crowd burst out, "Not this man, but Barab'bas!" Barab'bas was a rioter and bandit and Lazarus had heard of him while standing in the crowd. "Barab'bas! Barab'bas! Barab'bas!" the mob chanted. He wanted to shout out, _No! Free Jesus of Nazareth!_ But he said nothing and instead turned his eyes out of fear that he would be discovered and tried as well.

Pilate stared out over him and the chanting crowd. Lazarus thought he saw a hardened look of regret in his eyes before he turned back into the shadow, moving a curtain and walking into the praetorium. _He looks as if he is torn. Does he know Jesus is the son of the Lord?_

"Barab'bas! Barab'bas! Barab'bas!" the crowd chanted as Lazarus pushed his way through them toward the praetorium. He could feel anger and excitement swelling around him as he moved forward, and then halted as a hand parted the curtain and Pilate stepped out before the crowd.

Pilate hesitated for a moment. "Behold, I am bringing him out to you, that you may know that I find no crime in him!"

Jesus stepped through the curtain in a flowing purple robe as sunlight shone down on him. There was a crown of thorns on his head. Blood trickled down his forehead where the thorns pierced his skin. He looked out with caring in his eyes.

"Here is the man!" Pilate announced as Jesus stepped to his side.

"Crucify him! Crucify him!" the chief priests and soldiers near them shouted, enticing the mob.

Pilate looked to the priests. "Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no crime in him."

A man burst forward from near where Lazarus stood. "We have a law, and by that law he ought to die, because he has made himself the Son of God!" There was a roar of agreement from the mass.

Lazarus took a step toward the man to restrain him but stopped, afraid of what the mob would do to him.

Pilate grasped Jesus' cloaked arm and led him back into the praetorium as the crowd became restless. "Crucify him!" one man shouted from the front and the group echoed his call before a man from behind Lazarus shouted, "Free him! He is the son of the Lord!" More shouts rose above the man's call and he was silenced by the people around him.

Moments later Pilate returned through the curtains with Jesus at his side. He was clearly troubled. "Will you not release Jesus of Nazareth? I find him guilty of no crime and Barab'bas, whom you shout to release, is a rioter and a thief!"

In this moment Jesus met Lazarus' eyes, held his look and then looked away.

The same man who had cried out before was at the front close to Pilate and Jesus now. "If you release this man, you are not Caesar's friend! Everyone who makes himself a king sets himself against Caesar!"

_Pilate has no choice now,_ Lazarus realized. _Caesar's laws are above all others. If Pilate frees him then Caesar may declare he be crucified as well._

With a motion to the soldiers Pilate took Jesus along a path away from the crowd, stopping once he reached a mosaic pavement where the judgment seat sat, and instructing Jesus to take the chair. Lazarus moved with the crowd toward them and the people cheered about him when Jesus sat.

Pilate stood before Jesus as heat wafted in the air. The Pharisees watched Jesus intently. "Here is your king!" Pilate called out to the crowd.

"Away with him! Away with him!" the mob responded. "Crucify him!"

"Shall I crucify your king?" Pilate turned, looking out to all the people before him.

One of the chief priests stepped forward. "We have no king but Caesar," the man spoke as he avoided Jesus' eyes.

Pilate looked to Jesus and then back to the masses. "I will not ask again! Let this man's blood be on your hands! I wash myself of this! Crucify him if that is what you want of him!"

The mob roared in approval, pushing forward toward the judgment seat as Pilate stood back away from it. The soldiers forced Jesus to stand and gave him over to the crowd as they met him. They took the purple robe from him, leaving him in his regular clothes but still with the crown of thorns.

"Take him to the crosses!" the soldiers shouted to the crowd as the people grabbed onto Jesus and almost dragged him toward massive wooden crosses leaning against the area's walls.

Lazarus could see large splinters in the crosses' wood. _What do I do?_ He thought as the crowd jostled him and he moved the opposite direction. _I can't do anything for him now. Lord please be with me._ He watched as the mob forced Jesus to heft his own cross onto his back. There was anguish in Jesus' eyes.

"Take him to Gol'gotha!" one of the soldiers shouted. "Two other men will be crucified there today!"

Lazarus pushed his way forward with the mob as they forced Jesus to the streets. His eyes seared as tears formed in them, seeping into the cloth over his face. Someone shoved him in the back and he stumbled, catching himself on another man in front of him before finding his footing and continuing once more.

Hours passed as soldiers led the crowd through the streets, beating Jesus with whips as blood ran from his scars. People heckled Jesus as he bore the cross on his back and Lazarus watched as he collapsed under the weight of it.

The soldier before Jesus turned back toward him. "Stand!" Lazarus heard the call. Pain clenched his chest as he watched Jesus struggle to lift the cross. "Stand!" The soldier walked back to him, thrusting his arm back and lashing Jesus with his whip as Jesus cried out in agony.

Why Lord? Why don't you save your son?

"Stand!" the soldier shouted again and whipped him once more.

Jesus looked to the soldier. "...please." His voice was weak and Lazarus pushed toward him, unable to restrain himself any longer.

The soldier watched Jesus with hatred. "You cannot prolong your death, King of the Jews!" he mocked. "You!" The soldier signaled a young brown-skinned man pushing his way through the crowd who was paying the group little attention. "Stop, man!" the soldier shouted as the man turned to look. "You will carry the cross for this man! Carry it or be crucified alongside him! Caesar wills you to!"

"I am but passing through your city. I... I..." Lazarus heard the man respond as he stopped pushing toward Jesus. Lazarus was suddenly afraid once more for his own life.

The dark skinned man dropped the pack he was carrying with him. "I will carry it for him." The crowd opened as the man walked through them to Jesus' side, hefting the massive cross from Jesus' shoulder to his own.

"Thank you." Jesus' voice could barely be heard over the commotion of the crowd.

"Follow me," the first soldier instructed as another cracked his whip on Jesus' back as he stood, causing him to cry out.

Time stretched on and the sun moved through the sky as Lazarus followed the mob to Gol'gotha, the place where Jesus would be crucified. The soldiers whipped Jesus and beat him with the flats of their swords as they led him through the streets. At one point people came out of shops near the procession to heckle him and Lazarus watched as a cabbage was lobbed above him and thumped against Jesus' head.

They passed through the worn walls of the city and wound their way slowly to Gol'gotha, which was a hill used for crucifixions. Its earth was clothed in sand and patches of tall grass, and at the top of the hill two crosses were already standing upright from the earth. A man had been nailed and strapped to each cross and each man's skin was red with burn. Their faces were hardened with pain and tears had dried on one of the men's cheeks.

"Raise the cross between them!" the lead soldier shouted and pointed to a hole dug in the earth between the crosses. The other soldiers hefted Jesus' cross from the man who had taken it and laid it on the ground as the mob congregated over the hill, keeping their distance from them.

Lazarus stood by a thick bush toward the edge of the mass. He reached into a deep pocket of his robe and withdrew the remains of his bread, breaking it in two and turning away from the crosses and toward the sun in the distance. He lifted the cloth that covered his face, careful that no-one was watching, and ate the first chunk of bread. _What am I doing here? There is nothing that I can do for him. My time has passed._ He swallowed and placed the other chunk of bread in his mouth. _But if nothing else I am here with him. That has to be worth something. He knows I am here._

A pained voice came from behind him. Lazarus tightened the cloth over his face and turned to witness the soldiers hammering long nails through Jesus' wrists as the man was held down against the cross. His legs shook as the soldiers took them, braced them against the wood and pounded nails through his feet as well. The crack of bone sounded out and bile rose in Lazarus' throat. He had never witnessed a crucifixion before.

Soon the soldiers hefted the cross with Jesus nailed to it and planted it in the earth. His arms were open wide to the world as blood dripped from his hands. Blood ran from the nails in his feet. One of the soldiers spat at Jesus and laughed with his fellow men.

As they watched Jesus in pain on the cross, sweating in the heat, a man stepped forward from the mob. "Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!"

Jesus did not look to the man, but instead stared into the sun. Lazarus watched as blood flowed down where a thorn of the crown pierced Jesus' head. The blood ran through his eye and down his face.

A short distance from Lazarus stood the chief priests and scribes. He listened to them mocking the dying man. "He saved others. He cannot save himself," one of the chief priests said.

"Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe," one of the scribes added and brushed sand from his crimson robe.

Lazarus moved away from them as they continued to talk. As time passed men and women approached the crosses to heckle Jesus and others, a few of his followers, approached him and begged him to save himself and come down. There were stones thrown at him and the soldiers beat his chest with their whips.

Lazarus closed his eyes and spoke to the Lord, and to Jesus if the man could hear his thoughts. _Why do you let your son suffer? Surely the shedding of his blood can do no good for the world. He is your son. I know it, otherwise he could not have raised me from my grave._ Lazarus opened his eyes and watched his bloodied savior as Jesus spoke with the men on the crosses at his sides. _Look at him. He goes to death and still he speaks your words. Bring him down. Why would he raise me from the world beyond just to leave my side?_ He turned from Jesus once more and faced what was inside himself. He didn't worry for Jesus out of fear for him but instead out of his own need to have reason for his life.

In that moment a darkness suddenly came over the sun, blacking out all light from the world and men screamed in fear.

"What is happening?" Lazarus heard a voice from where the chief priests were.

"It is Jesus!" a voice rang out. "He is taking us with him!"

Lazarus kneeled to the sand below him, feeling a warm breeze running through his robe as he made his way to the bush he knew was close by. His hand met its prickly branches. He huddled in the darkness and wind as people moved around the mound, speaking in fear and awe.

Hours passed. The people became silent, waiting for light to enter the world once more so that they could see.

4

Darkness consumed Lazarus as hours passed without light and almost without sound. The world around him had begun to cool as he huddled next to the bush, afraid to move, afraid to leave Jesus' side.

Nothing, he heard nothing but the breaths of those around him in the darkness. They had all ceased speaking. He had heard Jesus speaking to the thieves on the crosses beside him but even Jesus was silent now.

_What will happen to us?_ Lazarus felt the earth beneath him with his hands to remind himself of his existence. This darkness reminded him of the realm before Jesus had brought him back.

Then the silence was broken.

"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Jesus called out, bringing his anguished voice once more into the world, giving Lazarus something to focus on.

"Behold, he is calling Eli'jah!" another voice responded and a commotion began as someone ran toward where the crosses were.

Suddenly Jesus let out a loud cry that pierced Lazarus' mind and a burst of light flooded the world, causing him to shield his eyes. As the light dissipated it was the brightest still where Jesus was. His head lay limp, propped upwards, his eyes pointed toward the sun.

"God have mercy on us!" someone cried out. "He truly was God's son!"

There was a rumble in the distance like Lazarus had never heard as he stood. Then the earth began to move beneath him and he crouched low to the ground once more. It shook; causing people to call out in fear, and Lazarus heard a crack and looked to see the temple in the distance break at the top and come crashing down.

_Lord forgive us,_ he thought as he stood on the quaking ground, watching several buildings in the city crack and crumble to the streets. He could barely keep his footing but felt the need to flee this place. Lazarus was afraid of the soldiers and that they would discover him.

With a sudden greater quake of the land Lazarus tumbled to the earth and the cloth over his face fell loose exposing it as a kneeling soldier looked his way.

"There is Lazarus of Bethany!" the soldier shouted and stood, unsheathing his sword as he walked the moving land.

Lazarus' heart raced and he stood, gaining his footing before running down the hill. As he fled toward the city the earth stilled and he looked behind him to see two soldiers following with their swords drawn. His feet slid in the sand as he moved. As he reached the city's walls he leapt over a crevice that had been opened in the stone walk. His feet landed hard and he continued to move, running past people huddled next to buildings in fear and a child running through the street calling for his mother.

"Halt!" a soldier's voice called behind him as he turned a corner. "Lazarus of Bethany, halt in the name of Caesar!"

His breath caught in his chest and he ran as hard as his legs could carry him down a narrow alley. His home wasn't in Jerusalem. Where could he turn? He didn't know anyone who would shelter him here. He turned another corner and almost hit a woman as she exited her home.

"What has happened to the temple?" a man's voice called out of one of the weathered homes.

As Lazarus ran he remembered the path he had taken through Jerusalem when he first arrived and the patch of trees beyond Bethany where he hid the night before. _The Lord protected me then. I will go there. Hopefully he will protect me now._ Sweat ran down his back as he wove through Jerusalem's streets and eventually along the route he had taken to the temple. After time his pace slowed and a cramp surged through his side. _How much longer can I continue?_ He was on a long stretch of road and looked back as he ran to see if he was still being pursued. One soldier followed him a distance back.

Lazarus dug his feet into the street and made a hard turn out of the man's sight. He was nearing the desert and knew he had to lose the soldier soon. He looked back once more and saw the leather armored man gaining on him, sunlight glinting off his drawn sword.

_There is no way I can continue this pace,_ Lazarus thought as he eyed a row of doorways before him. There was seemingly no-one on the street but him and the soldier. He darted for a nearby door in hopes he would find a place to hide inside or a way to defend himself. Lazarus reached for the door's worn handle and just before he touched it there was a heavy thump to the ground behind him and a scream of pain.

He turned to see the soldier who had pursued him on the ground with his sword protruding through his back. The man writhed, gurgling through blood in his throat as more blood flowed from where the sword's blade rose through him. The man would not survive. _He must have fallen and struck himself with his blade._ Lazarus touched the door's handle, then let it go and went to the man. _I can't leave him. Would that be what the Lord wants of us? Didn't Jesus say we should love our enemies even when they strike against us? This man has a family._

"Be still," Lazarus spoke to the soldier and looked around the alley but saw no-one else. The soldier's eyes strained to see and he said nothing as his body convulsed when Lazarus lifted it in his arms. Lazarus dared not remove the sword for fear of killing the man. He walked toward the desert as the soldier's blood stained his robe. _Please Lord help me find what to do to help this man._ Lazarus looked through windows in the alley homes. As he moved he noticed movement through one of the windows.

"I will leave you here. There are people inside this place who could help you," he whispered to the soldier, uncertain if the man understood him. The soldier's body convulsed again as Lazarus set him down on the home's doorstep. "Good luck," he told the man and rapped loudly on the door before running hard down the alley and ducking into a cut out area of the alley where there was a well.

"Murder!" a shout rang through the alley. "Someone has killed one of Caesar's men!"

Lazarus heard the sound of doors opening and footsteps on the stone road. He looked down at his blood soaked robe and knew there was no escape. _They will bring me to the temple,_ he thought before looking to the well with its crumbling rock base. _There is only one chance. If I can hide in the well until nightfall..._

He went to it, lifting his legs on its edge and then lowering himself into it as he clasped his hands on its stone insides. He braced tight with his fingers as he lowered himself into its moist belly. Lazarus hoped there would be some place to stand. Suddenly a stone broke free beneath his grasp, tumbling and making a splash in the water below as he re-found his grip. He breathed a deep breath. To fall into its water would give him away. After a while moving downward he found a thin stone ledge before the water and stood there, flattened against the well's moist wall.

As he stood in the darkness, breathing in the damp smell of the well, Lazarus looked to the circle of light above and prayed he would see no faces there. The commotion in the streets above lasted a long time and his heart beat rapidly in his chest as he held to the wall with fear.

But daylight gave way to moonlight as hours passed and the commotion in the street gave way to silence. Lazarus could also hear the sounds of bats in the streets above.

With his hands going numb from their grip on the well wall, Lazarus closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He looked above, watching the oval of moonlight as a cloud passed over in the sky. He had no grasp on time. _I need to leave now. Surely I will be discovered if I remain here when the sun rises._ He stretched his tense back muscles and then reached higher with his hands, taking grip on protruding stones. His fingers ached as he climbed slowly, being careful not to fall.

As he reached the cusp of the well Lazarus held his breath and listened for anyone who might be near. When he was sure it was safe he thrust one arm and then the other over the well's top before pulling himself out of it. The rough stone tore a piece of his robe before he found the ground. He rested for a moment against the well before moving through the street's shadows toward his destination.

The moonlight was bright and the stars clear overhead as he moved quickly on the stone roads. He knew he should head for the desert near Bethany where he knew the terrain and knew of a cavern cut out of a distant mountain where he could hide. But he could not leave yet, not without seeing for himself.

As he reached the outskirts of the city, looking past the stone wall toward Gol'gotha, hollowness filled Lazarus. _He is not here,_ he thought as he slowly made his way beyond the city, alert at all times. He could see no-one on the starlit hill but as he neared it he noticed a cave tomb that had been unused the day before at the base of the hill. The tomb now had a large stone blocking its entrance and two soldiers appeared to sleep against the rock. There was a torch burning in a sconce by the blocked entrance.

Lazarus lowered himself, lying against the ground for a moment as he watched the soldiers, making sure they were asleep. _Is this him? Surely they would guard no-one else._ The men did not move and Lazarus stood once more. He walked toward the tomb. A shiver ran through him and he stopped, unsure he wanted to continue. It was no longer the soldiers he feared but instead it was Jesus himself.

There was a slight tremor in the earth and Lazarus found the courage to approach the tomb. He looked at the two slumbering soldiers and placed his hands on the cool stone covering the entrance. Torch light glowed around him as he breathed deep and closed his eyes.

_Why? Why did you have to die? Couldn't you have saved yourself and proved to the people who you were?_ He clenched the coarse stone with his hands. _Why did you leave me? I am hunted because you returned me from death. I cannot return to my home, to my family. Why save me just to let yourself die?_ There was a moment of nothing, of bitter emptiness coursing through his soul. A tear raced down his cheek. "I would return this life to you so that I could die," he whispered to the stone as he opened his eyes to the firelight.

There was a slight breeze and the torchlight flickered as Lazarus turned and walked into the desert. Its darkness wrapped around him. He moved through the emptiness of the world.

5

The day was long. Heat consumed him as Lazarus trudged across the desert in his blood stained robe, his face covered to protect him from the sun as his lips dried and cracked in the scalding sunlight. It had been hours since he had seen a city. Mountains rose up from the desert in the distance like a body lying flat on the land.

_I will die in the heat and the desert's animals will tear my body apart._ He had intentionally walked into the open desert and was intent on death. _I have no purpose in this world. Something is wrong with me. I should never have been raised from the dead._

Heat wove in ribbons across his sight and a gust of warm air blew through him as he dragged his feet through the sands and moved onward. Pain surged through his right kneecap and he fell, kneeling as his hands grasped the burning desert. "Lord," he spoke before hacking painfully and spitting at the earth. "Let me die." The liquid from his mouth evaporated into steam on the sand.

Nothing. There was no response. Did the Lord even care?

Lazarus lay flat on the desert and let the feeling of the sun's heat consume him.

Time passed.

The sun crossed the sky.

The heat of the day raged on.

Lazarus' stomach ached with hunger as he lay, feeling himself becoming one with the sunlight and earth. For a reason unknown to him, he kneeled and then stood.

He stared into the sun as it hovered and radiated above the distant mountain range. He wanted to look away but held its brilliant light. Then, in his peripheral vision a shadow rose on the desert's horizon.

_What is it?_ He stumbled forward. His legs carried him but his mind was falling away. An hour passed as heat ribbons wove between him and the shadow. It was coming toward him.

_Is it a man?_ Lazarus squinted in the heat and wiped sweat off his forehead from beneath his head wrapping. The silhouette of the thing resembled a man for a moment before blurring in the waves of heat once more. _Am I watching myself walking? Once I meet myself will my life be taken from me once more?_ He had forgotten what death had been like before. What had happened to him? Had that part of his mind been wiped bare?

His hands burned and he pulled them up in his robe as the silhouette moved and took a solid shape before him. It was not a man, but instead was an animal, he decided.

The thing's head bobbed as it approached. Ears stretched like horns above its head and Lazarus could see grey fur on its form. It was emaciated and moved extremely slow. The ass lifted its head and met Lazarus' eyes with its own.

"What are you doing this far beyond man?" he asked the creature as he kneeled and stretched his hand out for it to come to. He had no food to give the beast but at least could offer a comforting hand.

It was a moment before the ass reached him but as it did the animal let its head go limp in Lazarus' palm. He could feel the beast's bony jaw as he held the warm head. Its ribs pushed up against his skin and its skull was emaciated. It had a hollow stare.

"Where did you come from? You need to eat, to drink," Lazarus spoke. He rubbed his free hand along its bony back. Lazarus looked over the barren desert. He had decided to die, to give himself to the land, but here was a creature that would perish without him. "I will find water for you," he told it and watched as the beast's hollow eyes looked to him. "Follow me."

Lazarus turned the ass toward the way it had come once more, toward the mountains in the distance, and began leading it across the barren terrain. It was true that he did not know the distance to where water could be found but he knew the Jordan River lay somewhere in the direction of the mountains. There the ass would have water and possibly grass to eat.

He led the donkey for hours over the hot sand until the sun had set and the world was lit by moonlight once more. As darkness took hold, Lazarus lay on the cold earth near a large sand dune. The donkey lay close by and Lazarus watched it as it slept. _Why do I care about you? You are only an animal. Surely if you died the world would not care._ But he cared. And he knew he would have to continue helping the animal to survive.

Lazarus did not intend to sleep. He did not care about his body, but exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep in the cool desert's embrace.

חַי

He woke mid day and was covered in a layer of sand. His cheek had become exposed in the night and was now burned and as Lazarus opened his eyes he saw the donkey standing. It watched him with its vacant stare.

Lazarus stood and shook the sand from his robe. He covered his eyes with his hand and looked toward the mountainous horizon. "We must be on our way." With his words the donkey turned and the two companions walked side by side through the sweltering heat.

It was a long day and as he drudged forward, Lazarus watched the heat ribbons warping his distant vision. He had seen a city rising out of the desert's dunes and a lush oasis only to realize moments later that neither thing was there. He had also seen a herd of horses running in the distance but convinced himself he had not seen those either. The donkey was his only true companion. It was the only thing he was certain about.

Then he saw it, like a great blue serpent weaving its way over the earth between him and the mountains. The sands gave way to more solid earth and he was sure the Jordan River was a distance off. Vegetation appeared to sprout up around its banks. Ribbons of heat made the river appear to move along the ground but he was sure it was there.

"Look." He pointed out over the sands as he spoke to his companion. "The water will renew you." As he looked to the mule the animal let out a moan and collapsed to the ground. "No..." Lazarus went to it and placed his hand on its ribcage. He was relieved to feel its heartbeat but there was no other movement in the animal. "I will bring you to the water," he told it and pushed his arms through the sand beneath it, hefting it up in his arms and using all his strength to carry it onward to the river.

Lazarus barely thought as he moved but once he reached the vast river he laid the donkey gently in the grass near the rolling water's edge. He cupped his hands and dipped them into the water. He enjoyed the cool water for a moment as it flowed over his hands and then brought it to the donkey's mouth, letting it run over the animal's lips.

After tasting the water the donkey moaned then moved its head as its tongue lapped out for more.

"Here, friend." Lazarus returned to the river and brought more back for his companion. It seemed to rejuvenate the beast and soon the donkey found its footing and stood, going to graze on a nearby patch of grass.

The sun was setting and an orange hue illuminated the sky. Lazarus had decided when he entered the desert he would eat and drink nothing, he would simply let himself die, but after feeling the cool water on his hands his body yearned to consume it.

_What do I do? If I had never met the ass then I would be in the desert still._ With a moment's hesitation Lazarus returned to the river, cupping his hands in its cool flow. He stared at the water as the currents wove over his fingertips. "I am weak," he said and brought the water to his mouth, drinking it down in a gulp. Soon he had taken several more and stared at the water that dried on his hands. "Lord, what do you want of me? Show me what way to go."

Lazarus sat down on the riverbank with the donkey beside him, watching the water churn and race down the river. That night he slept where he had sat, content while listening to the water rush by.

6

The sun had barely risen in the sky as Lazarus awoke. A pink hue danced across the clouds above as he lay, listening to the river burbling beside him. _Where do I go from here? Do I stay with the ass?_ He sat and looked around for the beast and was surprised to find himself alone. The donkey was gone and there was no evidence of its tracks.

"Farewell, friend," Lazarus said and braced his hands on his legs before standing and stretching his limbs. A warm breeze wove around him and he enjoyed its caress on his face. "Where do I go?" he asked aloud to no-one before noticing something wooden in the reeds along the bank. "What is that?"

Lazarus went to it, parting the thick reeds to find a worn, slim boat lodged in the bank. Sand had coated its inside and one of its seats was splintered with a crack running down its center. There was an oar lying amongst the reeds as well. _Do I take the river?_ he wondered and grasped tight to the boat's side before yanking hard on it and dragging it farther up the bank out of the reeds. Kneeling down, he pushed the boat's side and rolled it over to empty out the sand. He dug his fingers beneath its overturned side and rolled it back upright. As Lazarus ran his fingers over its wind worn wood he examined its hull for holes. There were no openings in its wood.

He looked to the sun. _What if I lie in the desert and let the sands cover me? What if I let the sun and the earth take my life now that the donkey is gone?_ He knew he could not though because somewhere inside him he felt a spark of life, of hope. Instead he grabbed the front of the boat and led it down to the water. He lifted the oar out of the reeds before stepping into the small boat and using it to push off into the Jordan River.

The boat bobbed as it hit the current and Lazarus stumbled before falling back and catching himself on the good bench. He held tight to the oar as he almost lost it, lifting it from the river's strong pulse. _What am I doing? I've only been out on a boat on a calm sea before._ He thrust the oar into the lapping water as the boat ebbed toward the bank. He held it still and firm to redirect the vessel and as he began lifting and moving the oar through the water he was able to move it to the center of the river. It caressed the edge of a rock and the boat ebbed to the side.

I will follow the river down Israel's edge to the Dead Sea. Surely there is no better place for me to decide my future than that. And there I hear the water is so thick with salt that I would be unable to drink it even if I wished to. If I am meant to survive then that is the place to test my fate.

The day moved slowly as Lazarus steered the small wooden vessel down the river. At first flat desert terrain stretched out beside him beyond the reeded banks, seeming to stretch out until the end of the world, but eventually the lands beyond were filled with grasses and trees marking the banks of the river, stretching their limbs out above him as he rowed.

Here boulders protruded from the river and Lazarus was forced to use all of his strength to keep his boat from crashing into them. He pushed off of the great stones with his oar and more than a few times was almost overturned. The sun was lowering overhead. His muscles seared with pain and his body was starved and dehydrated. _Am I to die here?_ He shook as light and darkness danced across his vision. He could feel his weary consciousness failing him.

Lazarus' hands went limp on the oar and it was braced against his legs as darkness consumed him.

חַי

He awoke to the dark of night and clear stars above twinkling through the blackness. Moonlight glowed through the clouds. Somehow his oar was still beside him on the boat. _I must have passed out from exhaustion._ He looked around and watched the moonlight reflecting off the river water. The river flowed lazily here. _How did I survive? Surely I should have been killed by one of the river's boulders._ Lazarus lay back and enjoyed watching the stars pass by above. He was in no hurry. He had no destination, no desire.

חַי

As the sun rose on the horizon, its beams of light almost blinding his eyes, Lazarus lifted the oar and dipped it into the river's steady currents. Trees sparsely grew up from the land on the river's banks and through the trees Lazarus could see a city and a man guarding its entrance. _Where am I? How far have I come? How close am I to the Dead Sea?_

The river wound like a snake through the land and Lazarus turned his oar to keep the boat aligned with the center of its stream. Fish swam in form beside the boat's hull and he marveled at their scales as sunlight glinted off of them. He could stop and attempt to catch them to eat or purchase food from the city's venders but he had no interest in preserving his body.

Suddenly he was jolted as the boat crushed down over a small waterfall. He braced a hand on the boat's side to hold himself onboard. He pushed off of a rock and the river moved to calmer waters once more. Lazarus was surprised that there was still any energy in his body because he hadn't eaten anything for two days and had only had a few gulps of water from the river to nourish him.

חַי

As midday arrived the sun pulsed radiantly above and sweat exuded from Lazarus' pores. His robe clung to his sweaty back and the burns on his hands seared in the heat. All foliage seemed to have disappeared from the land and replacing it on the banks was a thick layer of white cragged rock. _Salt,_ he thought. He could taste it in the sweltering air. _I must be near the sea._

The river curved to the right and Lazarus steadied himself with the oar, barely avoiding a collision with a jagged salt covered stone protruding up from the water. Then, as he lifted his head, a large mound of salt rock that was blocking his vision moved away and he took a breath, in awe of what he saw. The Dead Sea opened up before him, its pure aqua colored water stretching far off into the distance until a white mountain range rose like a giant at its end. Lazarus had not expected such beauty in this place. He pushed his oar in the river water and the boat flowed down out of the Jordan River and into the Dead Sea.

_Now that I am here where do I go?_ He moved the oar again and again, pushing the clear aqua water and moving toward the middle of the place. A white haze lingered in the air and salt lined the bottom of the sea bed. _What is that?_ He squinted and looked far off in the distance. There was a small stone structure, a home built on the shore of the sea.

7

Lazarus' muscles burned and his mind was hazy with exhaustion as he dragged the boat ashore near the small stone building. The warm, moist air he breathed into his lungs made his stomach turn. _Why have I come here?_ he wondered while letting go of the boat's end and hearing its thud on the ground. He stood straight, stretching out his back, arm and leg muscles before turning toward the structure. "Why have I come here?" he spoke lowly to himself.

He let his legs carry him to the building and something in him caused his hand to lift and knock on the building's wooden door. He realized now that he moved almost involuntarily, not caring what happened next in his life. Lazarus heard the noise of movement beyond the door and took steps backward. What would he encounter here?

The thick, unhandled door opened outward and a man covered in a tattered robe and cloth wrappings over his hands and face passed through it. The man's eyes were blood red. "What do you come here for?" he asked in a deep rasped voice. The man's thin frame was evident beneath his robe.

"I do not know," Lazarus responded honestly. "Perhaps I am here to die."

"Then you have come to the right place." The man unwrapped a torn cloth from one of his hands, revealing a deformed, crippled hand with red sores on it. He lifted his hand to his face and pulled away the rag that was covering it. Skin lesions and boils covered the man's face. The fleshy boils beaded across his skin.

Lazarus was not disturbed by the man's features. He had seen men and women like this in Jerusalem. They were avoided and said to be damned. "Leprosy," the word fell from his mouth.

"Do not pity us." The man covered his face once more with the rag. "It is true we are lepers, come here to live away from humanity until we die."

"Can I stay with you this night?" Lazarus asked with respect in his voice.

"You would risk our disease? What afflicts you, sir, that you would give yourself so readily to death?"

Lazarus looked to the pure aqua colored sea and the white mountains beyond it. There was beauty in the sunlight glistening off its water. "It is not that I give myself to death, but rather that I care not to give myself to life."

"Then you are a self cursed man, one not worthy of the life given you."

Lazarus breathed deeply and let the breath exhale from him before speaking. "What is your answer? I only ask for one night. Surely I can be of some use to you."

"I will speak for the others because they are too weak to speak. You may stay this night but if you wish to stay more you may find your wishes declined. There is a city a ways through the desert you may wish to travel to when tomorrow comes. What is your name, man who cares not for life?"

"Lazarus." He extended his hand toward the leper and stepped toward him. "I am Lazarus of Bethany."

"I have not heard of a Lazarus of Bethany." The leper replied and did not meet his hand. "You will not come near our flesh. This affliction is ours alone."

"I only meant to..."

"Do not." Tense silence held in the air. "I am Barbacus of Zeboiim. It is a city at the end of the sea. We will make room for you inside."

Barbacus turned and opened the stone house's door halfway before passing through the doorway.

Lazarus stood for a moment, looking out over the Dead Sea and its glistening waters. The salt rocks that surrounded the place reminded him of snow, which rarely came to his lands. It gave an unnatural feel to the water and struck an uncomfortable feeling through him. He went to the half open doorway and walked inside, closing the wind worn door behind him.

חַי

That night as wind howled outside the structure Lazarus lay on the ground covered in a light sheet Barbacus had given him. The stench of decaying flesh was imbedded in the cloth and he had no pillow for his head. A single candle flickered in the building's center.

From his spot on the floor Lazarus could clearly see his housemates in the flickering candlelight. Barbacus' frail body lay across from him beneath a thin sheet on the hard earth floor. He was the healthiest of the three lepers and had left the two beds for the others. He looked as if in agony as he slept. The firelight illuminated the skin lesions and boils on his face.

On a bed in a corner of the structure another man laid, his body covered by a heavy cloth. This man had not moved since Lazarus' arrival. If it had not been for a single moan of agony the man had made Lazarus would have sworn him dead. Barbacus had called him Matthew. A rash etched its way across the man's gauntly face.

The second bed was near Lazarus and the man in it, a leper by the name of Nicholas, had spoken sporadically to him since his arrival. A shiver ran across Lazarus' skin as he watched the man. _He looks as if death will come for him in the night,_ Lazarus thought while pulling his thin sheet close to his body in an effort to keep warm. Nicholas' body quaked as sweat beaded on his boil pocked face.

"Nicholas," Lazarus whispered to him, careful not to wake the others. "Nicholas, can I do anything to relieve your pains?" There was no answer but the man's bloodshot eyes opened and stared hollowly into his own. Lazarus pulled away his sheet and stood, using the cold earth beneath him to push himself up. He went to Nicholas' bed and knelt beside the man. "What can I do?" Lazarus asked.

Nicholas' dry lips opened slowly. "Water..." he rasped. "Salt water... for my skin."

Lazarus hesitated a moment and then stood. "Will that relieve your pain?"

Nicholas' eyes shut and he lay motionless on the bed, then shook with a surge of pain before becoming still once more.

Lazarus walked to the door and picked up a wooden bucket before walking out of the candlelight, pushing open the door and walking into the dark of night. The coolness of the outdoor air blew through him as he made his way to the Dead Sea. He could see the salt rocks in the moonlight around him as he walked. _Is this why they are here? Does salt water heal their wounds?_ As he reached the sea he removed his sandals and waded into its water. He thrust the bucket into the saltwater and drew it up. It seemed to weigh so much as he walked out of the sea. _It is because I have not eaten,_ he reasoned. _My strength leaves me._ He put on his sandals and headed for the rock home. "Lord, help me relieve Nicholas' pain," he spoke lowly in the darkness and stared up at the stars.

Light from the candle met Lazarus as he entered the stone building. It flickered across the walls. _Somehow the light is not warming. It almost makes the room colder. What do I use to spread the water?_ He looked about the room and saw no rags that he could use. Instead he lifted his head wrapping from the floor and went to Nicholas' bedside. Blood ran from the man's nose as Lazarus placed his hand on the cover over his arm. "I have the sea water for you."

Nicholas' boil pocked head rolled toward him and his bloodshot eyes opened. There was a foggy look to his irises. He said nothing but breathed heavily as Lazarus tore a piece of his cloth off and whipped the blood from his nose. There was a look of agony in Nicholas' twitching eyes.

"Here. Let me ease your pain," Lazarus spoke lowly while uncovering the man's arm and shoulders. He dipped the remaining cloth in the bucket of saltwater, wrung it out and brought it to Nicholas' scabbed, lesion covered flesh. At the touch Nicholas closed his eyes and breathed a sigh. "Rest." Lazarus moved the cloth up the man's exposed body. He went slowly to let the saltwater ease the man's sores. The feel of Nicholas' flesh beneath the cloth made Lazarus nauseated. Bile came up in his throat and he swallowed it down. As it burned the back of his throat he thought about God. _The Lord would want this. He would want me to care for this man._

As the night moved on Lazarus moved the wet cloth over the leper's body and then stayed by his side as the man slept. Candle wax dripped down the candle in the center of the room until the light went out. When it did Lazarus was asleep on the ground beside Nicholas' bed.

8

"Lazarus," a voice spoke through the darkness of his mind. "Lazarus, wake up. You can not stay here." The voice echoed around him.

He looked into the darkness. _Have I been released and returned to the world of the dead?_ It was as if he were floating in the darkness of the night sky. _I do not remember what death was before._

"Lazarus," the voice spoke again.

A burst of light flooded into his eyes. "No." He shook with fear, bracing his hands on the ground beneath him as Nicholas' bed emerged in his focusing sight. _I was dead and yet again I return._

"Lazarus." He saw Barbacus as he turned his head. "What have you done? You were not to touch our flesh. This is our burden. Now you must leave."

"I..." Lazarus struggled to stand, looking at the bucket beside him as he did so. "I only meant to relieve Nicholas' pain. I do not care for my life, but the least I can do is help others if I must live."

"And we would not take your life from you. Do you not understand this?"

"I have nowhere to go." He went to pick up the moist cloth he had used on Nicholas and Barbacus put out his hand in a motion to stop him.

Nicholas opened his hazy eyes and Lazarus was heartened to see they had lost their redness. "Please... do not make him go. His heart is..." His rasped voice trailed off.

Lazarus stood and watched Barbacus for a moment. _These men are frail but at least Barbacus has the will to stand. I suppose he has no choice though. Without his strength who would care for the others? I could do much to help them if they would only allow me._

Barbacus went to the door and opened it, letting daylight flood in. "Go to the edge of the sea and wait for me there."

Lazarus opened his mouth to speak.

"Go," Barbacus told him.

As he walked through the door the warmth of the morning blanketed his body. _Where will I go from here?_ Lazarus walked past the worn boat he had sailed down the Jordan River in. _I've just arrived here and now I must move on to some other unknown place. When will I find a home, a purpose?_ Resentment grew in him again as he walked to the seashore. _How could Jesus let himself die? How could he leave me alone? I am still alone._

The wind was crisp and seeing the salt-stained stones lining the edges of the sea sent an uneasy feeling through him. _This is an unnatural place. I should not have come._ He kneeled before the water, held out his hand above the glistening surface and slowly let it submerge into the warm sea.

Moments passed and Lazarus looked to the sun above. _Lord, would you forgive me if I walked into the sea and let it take this body?_ He imagined the warm water covering him and filling his lungs. It was an almost peaceful thought.

"Lazarus," Barbacus spoke from behind him. His voice was both urgent and cold. "Come quickly."

As he turned he could see pain behind the man's eyes. What was happening? It didn't feel like this had anything to do with the anger Barbacus had shown him a few moments before.

As he reached Barbacus the man gave Lazarus a hollow look and turned to lead him inside. "Come and see what it is I try to save you from. There is something... I do not want to ask, but we are in need of you. There is no other way." With that Lazarus followed him out of the sunlight and into the building. He feared what he would find.

Lazarus looked first to Nicholas, wondering what was wrong with the man. He was curled on his side in bed facing the stone wall.

"It is not him. It is Matthew." Barbacus stood still beside him. "Death has come for him in the night."

Lazarus quickly went to Matthew's bedside, kneeling and lowering his head to pray. _I spent my night caring for Nicholas as Matthew met with death._ The thought sent a shiver through him and an aching pain caused his chest to convulse. _I wished to bring life with my hands, Lord, and yet death comes so close to them._ His eyes began to sting with tears. He felt their warmth as they raced down his cheeks.

"Do not cry for him," Barbacus spoke from behind him. "He has suffered so greatly for so long. This is release."

Lazarus looked up at Barbacus. "Why do you speak of this man's death with hope and yet speak against my own dark wishes?"

"Why are you so blind?" Barbacus asked. "It is because you have been given the gift of a well healed life while we suffer in agony."

He thought on this for a moment before standing and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You say you are in need of me. What is it that you ask?"

"Matthew's body must be moved and I alone cannot move him. Nicholas can not help, he can barely stand. I'm afraid I must ask your help in moving him to a cave a short distance from here. We do not have the burial caves you have in Jerusalem and other places and so we use a cavern we discovered in the salt mounds." Silence held in the air for a moment. "I wished to keep you from our flesh and yet I must ask your help in carrying him there."

Lazarus looked knowingly to Barbacus' eyes. "All I wish to do with this life is help others. I will gladly do this for you."

Barbacus retrieved two strips of worn cloth from beneath his sheet on the ground. "Here, wrap these over your hands to keep your skin from contact with his flesh."

He wrapped the cloths over his hands and went to hoist Matthew up from behind his shoulders while Barbacus lifted the dead man's legs. With a thrust he lifted upward, feeling the man's emaciated shoulder blades pressing into his covered hands. He and Barbacus carried the body out into the sunlight.

Barbacus looked at Lazarus as together they carried the dead man. The lesions and boils on Barbacus were unnerving but respect and admiration were growing in Lazarus for the man. "Do you see the salt-rock hill a distance before us?" Barbacus asked.

"Yes."

"That is where we go."

Lazarus squinted in the sunlight and breathed deep breaths of salt infused air as he helped carry Matthew to the place. The man weighed little. His limp body was so frail. Lazarus found himself wondering how Matthew had managed to live as long as he had. As he crossed the rock and sand terrain toward the mound he thanked the Lord for his life, though he was still uncertain why he had been granted his resurrection.

Soon they were before the cavern and Lazarus' muscles burned with strain. Waves of nausea and dizziness were coming over him. He knew it was because of his insistence of not consuming anything since Jesus' crucifixion.

"I can drag him into the cavern from here," Barbacus said as sweat dripped down his scarred forehead.

"No. I can help move him the rest of the way." Together they brought Matthew into the cool cavern toward a carved out section in the salt-rock. The cool air in the place helped relieve Lazarus' nausea.

"Place him there." Barbacus motioned with his eyes.

They laid Matthew's frail, lifeless form down in the hollow space and Lazarus shuttered. There were bones of many men here beneath where they set the body. Some were broken and shreds of cloth protruded up from beneath them. A decayed human stench wafted into his nostrils. "I have to leave," Lazarus said, turning and stumbling out of the cave. He coughed from the stench as he reached the sunlight, bending over and holding his knees.

"This is our reality. You do not have to make it yours." Barbacus' caring voice was behind him moments later. It almost felt like the man's hand was on his shoulder although he knew Barbacus would never touch him.

"What else am I to do?"

"I have another favor to ask of you, if you would accept it. From there I know not where you should go. Maybe this will give you time to consider that."

Lazarus turned to face him. "I will gladly do what I can to help you. What is it you ask?"

"There is a man named Thomas who brings us dried meats, vegetables and miscellaneous other things from Zeboiim, the city I am from. He replenishes our supplies so that we may live our lives in isolation. But he has not come for many days and we run low on food. Soon we will not worry about leprosy and instead will fear starvation. I cannot make the journey to Zeboiim or its surrounding cities because I cannot leave Nicholas alone. Would you make this journey for us and return with food and word of Thomas?"

"Gladly." Lazarus removed the cloths from his hands and felt the warm breeze of the day flowing through his fingers.

"Can you leave today?" Barbacus asked. He walked in front of Lazarus, leading him back toward the Dead Sea's shore.

Lazarus looked down at his own robe as he walked. "Yes. But there is a problem. My robe is stained with the blood of a man who pursued me in Jerusalem. Surely this would cause questions in Zeboiim."

"I had wondered about the blood but you seemed a good man. I assumed you would tell me in time. Do not worry about your robe. Matthew has a spare. It is blue and is one of the most beautifully hued robes I have seen. He will need it no longer."

חַי

At mid-day Lazarus thrust his oar into the sea, pushing off of the rocks and sand of the sea bed and gliding in his boat toward its center. When he was able to he held his oar firm in the water and adjusted his direction to move toward the white mountains in the distance, toward the far side of the sea where Barbacus assured him he would find Zeboiim and Thomas' home along the city's edge. In his royal blue robe he almost blended into the sea.

Lazarus felt like a new person somehow. _I am a man on a journey, a man with purpose again._ He admired the sunlight glistening off the aqua sea. He closed his eyes and saw the red of the inside of his eyelids as the sun pressed through them. _Lord, please show me the way to rebuild myself. Give direction to me in my faith and life._

9

Lazarus approached Zeboiim, the fifth city at the end of the Dead Sea, as the sun set on the distant horizon. His arms ached from rowing and he felt as if his mind would collapse in on itself if he did not eat something. _Dare I approach this place as darkness consumes the world? Surely there are eyes on me out on the water. It is wise to wait until morning to approach the city._

He stayed there, rocking on the faint current of the sea as darkness engulfed the world around him. As crisp starlight blanketed the water and his boat, Lazarus decided to row toward shore. He ran his worn vessel aground a short distance away from the city and dragged the boat behind an outcropping of large stones. _Hopefully I will remain unseen,_ he thought while climbing back into the boat and lying down in it. He rested his head awkwardly against its good bench and pulled a cloth from his robe over his eyes.

חַי

Sunlight consumed his sight as Lazarus awoke. He squinted and brought his hand over his eyes to block the sun.

The air was dry.

He realized that he must have slept a good deal into the day because the exposed skin on his hands had begun to burn from the sun's rays. _I suppose I must move,_ he thought unwillingly and stood to look out over the outcropping of stones at Zeboiim. It was a city of merely a few dozen buildings but bustling with life nonetheless. "It is good to be near a city once more," Lazarus said to himself while beginning to walk toward the place.

He was unnoticed as he approached the small city and wondered why no one was posted outside to watch for outsiders. _Possibly Zeboiim and the other cities at the end of the Dead Sea are so far from other civilization they need not fear invaders. And possibly they know they have not the numbers to defend themselves if they were approached._

Soon Lazarus entered Zeboiim on a salt-stone road that was worn from the passage of time. He walked slowly, looking from building to building, wondering where he would find this Thomas he was looking for. _Barbacus said his home was near the shoreline._ Lazarus eyed the strip of buildings in that direction.

A woman suddenly burst past him carrying a large load of goods in a basket. She eyed him suspiciously as she passed.

"Unclean!" a man shouted at him from a distance down the road.

Lazarus remembered that lepers were required by law to shout 'unclean' when they walked the streets of Jerusalem.

"That man is Matthew, the leper!" the man shouted through the streets as others turned to watch him.

Lazarus removed the wrapping covering his face. "I am not a leper!" he called out to the man and others in the street who were closely watching him now. "Look! I have no sores on my skin!"

"Unclean!" the man shouted again as Lazarus halted, not knowing what to do.

They think I am Matthew because of his robe. How do I prove to them that I am not? It is inhuman how people with such a horrible disease are treated.

"Sir!" a hushed voice called to him from a nearby home.

He turned to see a short, thin man standing in its doorway. His body was frail but there was strength in his eyes.

"Come quickly! They think you are a leper and will not tolerate you here!"

With a moment's hesitation Lazarus turned and ran toward the man, disappearing inside his home.

"You are not Matthew." The small man set a thick board into a metal brace on the door, locking it closed. "You are not afflicted by his curse. How did you come across his robe?"

Lazarus removed the cloths that were wrapped over his forehead and sat down in a wooden chair at an old table close by. "Matthew has died and his robe was given to me. Are you Thomas, the man who brings the lepers food?"

The frail man retrieved a loaf of bread and brought it toward Lazarus, giving him half. Its rich smell was in the air. "I am him, and I feared Matthew's death as soon as I saw you. I do not know if you know, he was my brother."

Lazarus was at a loss. He held the half loaf of bread in his hands for a moment, feeling the firm roughness of its crust. "His death has brought him peace with the Lord."

"I do not doubt that, and yet his death pains me. As I have said, he was my brother. How do the others fare? I have meant to bring them supplies for many a night but the crops of those who trade goods in Zeboiim have been sparse and it is becoming harder to find men willing to barter with a supporter of lepers." Thomas took a bite from his own half loaf of bread.

Lazarus held out a hand and touched Thomas' own. "At least you try. That is all they can ask. And the Lord cannot ask more than a man's best efforts and the strength of his heart." There was a moment of dense silence. "To answer you, Barbacus fares well and Nicholas appears to waver between alertness and submission to his disease. I have been sent by them to see if you were alive and, if so, see if I might bring what goods you have to them."

"I have a small portion of what I usually do," Thomas told him while walking through a doorway leading to another room, "but I am glad to give what I have."

Lazarus looked to the still uneaten half loaf of bread in his hands. He had not eaten since Jesus' death and wondered how he survived. _This is better used if given to the lepers._ He stared at the bread, salivating, as Thomas reentered the room. The man had two cloth sacks filled with goods. Lazarus looked up and watched him. "My bread should go to them as well."

"No. You are my guest, and although you are not afflicted, you are a man and you must eat. This is my gift to you. If I had wine I would give it to you as well but there is only water here." He dipped a cup into a large pot of water and brought it to Lazarus, setting it on the table near where he was sitting.

_And yet you give me the gift of nourishment, Lord, when I would turn it away. A purpose to live and serve you builds in me._ "Thank you. It means so much," he told the small man while breaking the bread and bringing a piece to his mouth. The richness of its grain was good and he felt his body tingling with its taste. "May I stay the day with you and leave at nightfall? I do not want to be seen leaving the city."

"Of course, I would be glad to have your company and you are wise to wait for dark to leave. There are those in the city who believe lepers to be possessed and who will stop at nothing to prevent us from helping them."

Lazarus finished his bread and water. He spent the remainder of the day resting and telling Thomas all he knew about the world outside Zeboiim.

חַי

There was a chill in the night air as Lazarus left Thomas' home with the two bags slung over his back.

"Farewell. Tell Barbacus I will come with more supplies when I am able," the small man whispered to Lazarus before shutting his door and leaving him on his own in the starlight.

Lazarus looked up and down the street but saw no-one. _Watch over me,_ he prayed and walked quickly down the salt-stone road, out of the city toward the rock outcropping where he hid his boat. Cool wind blew through Lazarus' robe and curled over his body.

_It must still be there,_ he thought while approaching the outcropping of rocks concealing his ship. He breathed a relieved sigh as he walked beyond the rocks and saw crisp starlight illuminating the small wooden vessel. Lazarus dropped the bags inside it and dragged it down the beach to the sea.

For a moment he stopped there, staring out at the vast body of water, admiring how it reflected the moon and stars like a mirror back toward the sky. "Will the sea reflect me up to you as well?" he spoke softly while pushing the old boat into the water and climbing in. He grasped his oar in his hands, dipped it into the substance and pushed off, adrift once more on the sea of the dead.

10

As he rowed his boat toward the shore where the lone stone structure stood, Lazarus heard a low howl echoing through the wind. He had rowed through the night, resting little, and now the sun rose, dancing a red hue from the east across the sky.

"Barbacus!" Lazarus shouted as he neared land. "Barbacus, I have returned! With me are two bags of goods from Thomas of Zeboiim!" _THUMP!_ His boat ran aground and he stood, stepping out into the low waters and dragging the small vessel up the beach. "Barbacus!" he shouted again. There was no reply.

With what little strength he had in his arms after rowing through the night, Lazarus hefted the heavy bags of goods over his shoulders and plodded toward the structure. The door was open as he approached.

"Barbacus!" he called out for a third time, and as he neared the building's door he was stunned to see neither Barbacus nor Nicholas inside. Even the beds and cloths were gone. The building was bare. "My Lord, what is this?" he asked aloud and was greeted by a warm flow of air that then left him chilled in its wake.

He dropped the bags inside and walked back out into the sunlight. With a hand over his eyes to block the sun he scanned the beach. _What or who took them from this place? They would not have had the strength to move the beds on their own._ For hours he searched the beach and the salt caves lining it for the lepers but discovered no sign of them.

_It's as if they've vanished._ He returned to the stone structure and sat in the middle of its bare floor, hoping for their return. Hours passed and a great cold went through his body as the sun began setting outside. _I will leave the bags for them in case they return._ Lazarus stood slowly, letting pain burn through his muscles as feeling returned to them.

It was cold outside as he left the structure and made his way down the beach to the boat. "Where do I go from here?" he wondered aloud. "Where can I be of use?" He grabbed the corner of the boat and dragged it into the Dead Sea before wading out and stepping into it. It rocked as he used his oar to push off further into the water.

Lazarus did not know where he should go, and so as darkness came he rowed toward the center of the sea. He stopped, bringing the oar inside the boat, and stared at the moon above. He stood for a moment in the boat, closed his eyes and kneeled. Lazarus clasped his cold hands together in front of him. _Why is everything in my life taken from me? Am I not to have a purpose? Why can I not give of myself to the lepers?_ The boat rocked gently beneath him. _And more than anything I want a family, friends. Why are these things denied to me? It is cruel, what you force me to endure. I cannot die, and yet I also cannot live._

There was no reply, from God or any other thing.

_I am alone._ Lazarus opened his eyes and stood as a tear raced down his face. "Why, Lord? Why do you punish me?" he shouted out over the sea. He took a deep breath and sat in the bottom of the boat, leaning against its good bench and staring up at the stars. _I will not wipe the tear away. I will let it dry on my face to remind me I am alone._ He closed his eyes and tried to let his body rest.

Moments later as Lazarus was taken by sleep something furry emerged from beneath his bench, perching on the boat's side, watching him with its beady eyes.

11

Darkness.

A fog swam over Lazarus' mind. He could make out light and dark silhouettes before him as he moved. _Where am I?_ A sudden burst of light blinded him. He covered his eyes to protect himself. _What is that?_ The smell of grass and flowers filled his senses. He opened his eyes to see a rolling field of green.

_Baah,_ a sheep bleated nearby, but as he turned to look he could not see it.

"What is this place?" He held out his hand as a group of butterflies flew near and one of them came to rest on his fingertips. Wasn't he just in a boat moments before? The memory was foggy and he chose not to recognize it.

_Baah,_ a sheep's call came again.

Lazarus was curious and began to follow the noise. The butterfly flew from his fingers as he turned and began walking across the luscious green field. He looked but could not see the sheep. _Whose is it?_ he wondered and went toward a group of trees in the direction the sound had come from. Soon he was there and passed through them into another open field.

_Baah! Baah!_ The noise echoed around him.

"Where are you, sheep? Have you wandered from your flock?"

Baah!

Lazarus turned toward the noise quickly and began running toward the edge of the clearing in search of the creature.

_Baah!_ The lamb's call was ringing in his mind. Something inside of him told Lazarus that the creature needed him. It needed him to guide it back to its master. _Where is the noise coming from? Where am I?_ As he stood at the edge of the lush clearing all noise instantly halted and all wind ceased its flow. Lazarus squinted in the sunlight and saw a man entering the clearing through the trees that lined its edge. "Have you lost your sheep?" he called to the man across the field. "I have heard them calling for you!"

As the man neared, Lazarus sensed a familiarity with him, but could not remember how he knew him. The man's flowing brown hair rested on his shoulders and there was a look of depth and love in his eyes. "Jesus, is it you?" Lazarus asked softly in disbelief. Sheep started to come toward them from the trees along the edges of the clearing.

"Hello, Lazarus," Jesus spoke.

Lazarus kneeled before him and Jesus motioned for him to rise.

"These sheep," Jesus motioned to the fluffy white animals coming toward them, "this flock is yours. Shepherd over them, care for them and teach them about me and the Lord, my father. Always remember that if one sheep strays you are to bring it home in your arms and warm it with God's love." He embraced Lazarus and held him tight in his arms. "I will not let you go, brother. Our father will not let you go. Have faith in us and find strength in his arms."

_Baah! Baah!_ sheep called around Lazarus as a thick sunlit mist flowed over his sight. There were brilliant silhouettes with wings before him as his mind was taken away from the place.

12

Lazarus awoke with a startle in the middle of the night. Something warm was curled up on his lap. He could feel its breaths through his clothes. He didn't dare move until he knew what the thing was in case it was something that could do him harm. _How in the world did it get here?_ He could make out its fur in the moonlight.

For a few moments the creature rested peacefully and then it suddenly looked up at him and made a high trilling noise. Its claws dug through his robe to his leg and it jumped and scurried quickly to the far end of the boat. The creature made loud grunting noises while moving its jaws as if chewing.

Lazarus watched it, half amused and half in fear because he knew he was now stuck with the creature on the boat with him. He couldn't send it overboard and let it drown in the sea. That wasn't in his nature. "Are you a rock-rabbit?" he asked the thing as it grunted and glared at him angrily. _The thing must have snuck aboard while I searched for the lepers._

For a long moment the two held still while the angry faced creature with stubby ears ground its teeth and grunted at him. Then there was silence and tenseness as the boat rocked on the sea.

"It's alright. I will not harm you." Lazarus held his hand out toward the creature as it bared its teeth, making its high trilling noise. "Then you keep your side of the boat and I will keep mine." He lifted up the oar and dipped it into the sea, moving the vessel toward the far off shore with his strokes.

Night passed on and Lazarus pondered his furry friend as it glared back at him in the moonlight. He realized this was a strange companion, but somehow was grateful for the company.

חַי

As the sun met its highest place in the sky the next day Lazarus still rowed. Sweat streamed down his back and his hands burned and were stiff from gripping the oar. _It is so far off._ He watched the far side of the sea over the sleeping creature's body. _It's as if I row and row, yet never move. I know I will reach the other shore, but when, and how will I fare when I arrive?_ He drew a deep breath of the thick, salty air around him and pressed his oar into the sea once more.

The day went on and Lazarus focused on the sea's glimmering horizon.

חַי

Night was around him again as Lazarus awoke from a period of slumber. Moonlight blanketed the boat and the beady eyed rock-rabbit stared at him from its perch on the broken bench opposite him. "You are awake? You slept most of the day." He smiled at the animal.

It was peculiar, the furry creature began to make trilling noises once more, but this time it was almost as if it created a beautiful melody with its noises.

"What a strange creature you are."

Lazarus began humming along with its noises and dipped his oar in the water again and again as he moved them toward shore. It was nearer now in the distance and as he rowed the sun began to rise above the mountains in the east, bringing a beautiful pink and orange hue across the cloudy sky. The sea was a pure, crisp aqua in the early morning light. There was something odd yet peaceful about humming his melody with the rock-rabbit's trilling as the day began.

The two continued in their harmony for a while, but as they neared the salt coated beach the rock-rabbit suddenly stopped its song and moved to the edge of the boat, looking out at the sea. Its ears perked as it grunted and twitched its tail.

Lazarus stopped his humming and watched the twitching creature. "What do you sense?"

As if wanting to respond, the rodent turned to glare at him with its beady eyes and then looked out toward the shoreline once more.

"Then I will take us in that direction and we will discover it together." With a stroke of his oar the boat turned and a warm wind blew over them. Lazarus could see nothing in the direction the rock-rabbit looked but he listened intently. A series of white boulders lined the beach there, leading out into the sea.

Lazarus shivered as he heard a faint high-pitched noise echo out of the rocks. _Where have I heard that before? It sounds almost human._ He tread water and moved closer. _Something is crying. What would sound like that out here?_ As he moved the boat around the white rocks he saw a basket bobbing in the current against the rocks. A cloth stretched out of the basket. Its edge flowed in the water.

_No. It can't be._ He put all his strength into the oar and went quickly toward the basket, grounding the boat into the rocky seashore. Lazarus dropped the oar in its hull before leaping into the sea toward the lodged basket and the baby's cries.

The sea was warm and his clothes stuck to his body. As he reached the basket he braced an arm on the boulder close by and looked inside. He saw a beautiful baby's soft, sun-reddened face as it wailed, unaware that he was there. "I am here. I will save you." He grasped onto the edge of the basket and kicked his legs in the water, dragging the basket to shore. Lazarus' knees scraped against the rocks as he reached land and hefted the basket, setting it up on the beach away from the water.

"Who would do such a thing to a baby? How did you survive?" Lazarus unwrapped the cloths from the baby's body and was relieved to see that it seemed well aside from its sunburned face. With a sigh he reached into the basket and braced his hands around its back, lifting the baby and holding it against his shoulder. "Shhh. Shhh. All will be well. I have you now." He rocked the child against him, soothing it until it slowly calmed and stopped crying.

Fear ran through Lazarus. _How can I care for it beyond comforting it in my arms? I have no milk, no food. Will this babe die in my arms? Should I return to Zeboiim? Surely there is a woman there who could help this child._ It was a bleak thought, and as soon as he had thought it he saw the boat drifting out to sea once more. The rock-rabbit lay on its back on his bench, bathing in the sun.

It would be too far for him to reach. The natural current of the sea drifted the boat quickly away from him. _Lord, if ever I needed you, I need you now. What am I to do with this young one? I have no idea how near the closest city is or in what direction._ _I have never even had a child of my own._

The baby snored on his shoulder, at peace in the comfort of his loving embrace.

Lazarus picked up the empty basket with his free hand and walked up the white beach. There was an opening in the rock wall beyond the boulders and caves. Through it he saw the desert. _I return to where I began. Jerusalem and other cities are to the northwest. That is the way I will go. Lord, lead me to a way to save this child. I would give my life for this baby. I would spend the rest of my life in chains._

13

The desert, Lazarus knew too well, was an uncaring place. He had walked for hours after leaving the sea's edge and had seen no sign of human life. He had seen the decayed bones of a dead man being covered by the sand of a dune, but that was as close as he had come.

Why Lord? Please lead me.

Pain burned through his legs and up his back as Lazarus faltered, his body almost crashing down to the hot sand below. The baby in his arms was all that kept him upright.

I will get this child help. No matter the cost to me, this child will live.

The sun baked his exposed flesh as he held the baby tight. He had removed his own head wrappings and used them to better cover the child. At times the baby boy had awoken and cried, but Lazarus was able to soothe it quickly by swaying and bracing it tight in his arms. His greatest fear was that he would not discover a city and it would starve. Hours passed as the bright sun beat down on his head.

At times he saw a great city on the horizon, swaying in the heat, only to watch it disappear as he approached. The sun's heat played games with him.

Lazarus braced the baby close and kissed its sleeping forehead.

I have come so far. Help me, Lord. Help me to survive.

As the sun set on the horizon, Lazarus felt all strength leave him and he kneeled in the cooling sands. Desert surrounded him for an infinite distance in all directions, it seemed, as he held the baby close to him and lay down in the desert, finally giving in to the exhaustion that consumed his body and mind.

חַי

"Lazarus... Lazarus... do not die, Lazarus." There was a voice at the edge of his consciousness calling him back to the world.

חַי

As he opened his eyes sunlight burned into them. He could smell the hot sand and feel the baby's body pulled close, still shaded from the sun. "I... I..." Lazarus tried to move, to stand, but his body would not answer him. It was as if the sun had decided he would not go on.

"Waaa! Waaa!" the baby awoke and began to cry a dry, rasped cry.

If only I can save this child... that is all I ask... I don't want to die.

Time passed and as sweat seeped from his pores he began to feel as if he'd soon have no moisture left to give. He watched a bead of sweat drip from his forehead, sizzling into steam as it hit the sand.

Heat consumed him.

The baby ceased its crying, unable to make noise in its starvation.

Lazarus closed his eyes but continued to fight off the warm darkness swarming around him.

There were noises at the edge of his consciousness.

"Lazarus. Lazarus of Bethany, is it you?"

A warm hand was on his back, trying to roll his body over to look upward. Lazarus used all his strength to hold the baby close as he was rolled over, his eyes facing the sun. A hand went to his wrist.

"He is alive. It must be him," a second voice spoke.

There was a hand on his forehead as he felt the baby's weight being lifted away from his chest.

A female voice joined the first two. "A baby? Is it alive?"

"Yes, but barely." The response came from above him, from whoever held their hand to his forehead. "Take the babe to Sarilia, the midwife. She will need the child now if it is to be saved." There was a pause and Lazarus felt the hand move from his forehead to his chest. "Lazarus, can you hear me? Awaken. You are not dead."

He tried to open his eyes, tried to speak, but he could not. His consciousness was somehow beyond his body. He was wrapped in dense, scorching heat.

"Lazarus, awaken. Be with us. You are God's beloved."

Suddenly his mind was clear and he was able to open his eyes. Above him, with sunlight silhouetted around his face, was John, Jesus' disciple. "Are you... Are you a mirage?" Lazarus asked.

"No. We feared you dead, Lazarus. Where have you been?"

His skin was so dry. _Is this really John? How could these people have found me?_ "I fled to the Jordan river..." He choked because of the dryness of his throat as the disciple helped him to sit. "...and from there to the Dead Sea." Lazarus held his sunburned hand above his eyes to block the sunlight and saw a small caravan stretching into the desert. There were carts pulled by mules and camels carrying packs. Men and women led the animals. He looked to John. He could see love and care in the man's eyes. "How can you be real? How did you find me?"

"We were passing nearby when we heard the baby's cries. The baby is with a midwife who travels with us and she will heal the child. We have been searching Jerusalem and Bethany for you since Jesus' crucifixion. I heard of your confrontation with the guard after Jesus died." John helped him to stand, bracing him with his arm. Lazarus was comforted by the man's strength as John supported him, leading him toward the caravan. "Come and sit. You need food, rest and shade. It is obvious your journey has been long. And I have news to share that will warm your heart."

Lazarus walked with the man to a cart that was shaded by a cloth cover. He stepped up and in and was happy the sunlight was blocked from him. John joined him on the other side.

"Head west," John instructed a man on a camel who led the caravan. A plume of sand churned up from the animals' hooves and John took a spare cloth from his own robe for Lazarus to wrap around his face. The disciple placed his warm hands on Lazarus' own. "Your sisters have missed you dearly. They know you cannot return but have missed having you with them."

Lazarus rubbed his temples. _How did I get here, safe with these people? I could feel the life leaving me and now I feel rejuvenated._

"Here, drink this." John took a jug from the side of the cart and handed it to him.

As Lazarus brought it to his mouth he could smell the crisp water inside. The liquid was moist and warm and he drank it fully. "You say you have news," he said while handing the jug back. "I miss my sisters dearly, but somehow I sense you meant something else."

John gave a wide smile. "Jesus of Nazareth has risen from his tomb. He appeared before us, his disciples, and commanded us to go into all the world and preach the gospel to all people. He told us to preach that 'He who believeth and is baptized shall be saved.'"

Lazarus felt lightness in his spirit. _Jesus has been resurrected? Of course... there could be no other way. I am not alone. He never left me. He is by my side._ "What wonderful news! Where is he now?"

John looked into his eyes. "I do not know. After meeting with us he said he would be here with us for forty days before ascending to be with God the father. Only Jesus knows what he must do here on earth, but his spirit is always with us and he wants the world to know that he died so we can be forgiven for our sins. He bled and suffered so we can be with him in heaven."

"What did he look like?"

"Like himself, like a man who cares more than all other men."

They spoke for hours as the caravan traveled across the desert, and Lazarus learned more about Jesus' teachings than he had ever known. They spoke of John's travels with Jesus and of Jesus' love of the world. John said his caravan was headed to the city, Antioch, and its port, Seleucia, where he would sail onward to the island of Cyprus to preach the word of the Lord and the news of Jesus' resurrection. As the sun began to set they neared a river running through the land. The sand of the desert had changed to more solid ground and trees and grass lined the riverbank.

"We will rest here for the night. Set up the tents," John told the man leading the cart before them as the carts slowed their pace. "Tomorrow we will look for a way to pass."

When the cart stopped they both stepped out and Lazarus turned to him. "Which cart is the baby in? I wish to see the boy. I prayed and prayed that he would survive."

"He is with the midwife in the cart with the purple drapes over there." John pointed to a cart a few carts behind them. "Once you have visited the child, meet me by the riverbank. I wish to speak with you there."

_Why?_ Lazarus wondered as he walked to the cart with the purple drapes. "M'lady? It is I, Lazarus of Bethany, the man who was with the baby in the desert. May I see the child? How does he fare?"

"Yes, please. I am clothed." A caring feminine voice came from inside. The purple drapes parted and a woman who couldn't have been older than thirty smiled at him. In her arms were two babies, the boy he had saved from the sea and another baby he assumed was her own. "Do not fear, the baby is well. Once he was fed he was full of life. Where is his mother?"

"I do not know. I found him floating in a basket on the Dead Sea."

"He is blessed to have found you and that you cared to tend to him."

Lazarus couldn't help but realize she had a beautiful smile. "I am blessed to have found him as well. This child filled me with life when much of my life seemed lost from me. I have never had a baby of my own but I felt a closeness to him as soon as he was in my arms."

The woman smiled. "He will need a father. He will need love. Perhaps you can be that for him."

Lazarus watched the beautiful baby in her arms, snuggled up against her as he slept peacefully. _I could enjoy the life of a father. I could enjoy having a family of my own._ "This baby will have all the love he desires from me," he told her while reaching out and touching the child's face. "Thank you for all you do for him. It means more than I can express." They were both silent for a moment. "I must meet John down by the river now, but could I visit the baby when I am through?"

"I would be glad to have you. I'm sure the baby will appreciate it as well."

She has such a beautiful smile. How amazing it is that John had a midwife in his caravan! God provides. When it seems like there is no hope the Lord always shows the way. If I have learned something in these recent days, it is that. He brings me the solutions when I have none.

Lazarus walked through the group as they erected tents near their carts and led their animals to the river for water. John waited patiently at the water's edge. Pink hues danced along the river's currents. "I have come!" he called to John. "The baby is well! It is so beautiful here! What is it you wish to share with me?"

John held cupped hands before him, over the flowing river. "Water is amazing. It gives us life, gives life to everything even in the dry world of the desert." He let the water in his hands flow out of the bottom of them, catching the setting sunlight as the liquid fled to the river below. "But it can be so much more. It is a symbol of hope, of God's love. You've been baptized before, haven't you?"

"I was baptized a few years ago when a prophet first brought me and my sisters word that Jesus is the Messiah."

"I thought so, but I've thought a lot about you since Jesus resurrected you from the grave. What must you be thinking? It must have been hard to have entered the realm after life and then be brought back to the living once more."

"I have felt lost at times, and confused," Lazarus admitted to John. "Jesus said he had a purpose for me and I found hope and purpose in that, but then when he allowed himself to be crucified I felt betrayed and alone."

John placed his hand on Lazarus' shoulder. "Jesus loves you. I know that with all my heart. He loves you like he loves all of his flock, his children. If he had not had great love, respect and faith in you then he would not have chosen you to be resurrected."

"I am not so great. Why would he choose me?"

"All of us are sinners. We are not perfect, but he sees past that. God sees past that. We are human, but when we try hard to change ourselves and live in good ways we can mean more to the world and to those around us. It is the everyday man or woman who is chosen to walk with God. If we hear that calling and try we are great even when we do not see ourselves in that way."

"What does that have to do with my baptism?"

"You have been reborn, you should be re-baptized. I will do that for you if you wish. Use it to let God's love fill you and help you to better walk his path. Use it as a sign from God that he is with you in your rebirth, sometimes walking beside you and in harder times carrying you."

John held out his hand. "Do you believe that Jesus is the son? Do you believe that God is the father and accept him as your Lord?"

"Yes, now more than I have ever believed before."

"Do you wish forgiveness for your sins, something Jesus has given us through his death and suffering on the cross?"

"Yes, although I feel I am unworthy."

"You are worthy, my friend. All people are worthy in the eyes of the Lord. Come with me, Lazarus of Bethany. Follow me into the river and come to my arms so that I may baptize you."

John waded out into the gentle river and Lazarus followed him. The river's current flowed around their forms. As Lazarus neared John, John came to him and held a hand to his back. Lazarus was silent as he awaited his baptism. _Please be with me, Lord. Please help me to embrace this gift._

"May the Lord's love flow into you and may he work through you for all your days," John said before leaning Lazarus back and dunking him into the river.

Lazarus could feel the water move around him as he was baptized and hear the _thump_ as he was dunked underwater. He felt immersed in God's love and held close in the Lord's embrace as John lifted him back out of the river. The setting sun was radiant in the distance. _Thank you, Lord, for loving me and for leading me to John. I am but a common man_ , _but I will use my heart to bring good to the world in your name._ "Thank you for bathing me in God's love," he told John as he found his footing on the riverbed.

"You do not need to thank me, my brother. The Lord's love is freely given and personally received. I am honored to participate in God's gift with you."

Lazarus took John's hand firmly and then clasped it with his other hand as well. "Thank you anyways. Your care and love for me as a fellow man means a lot and has lifted me in the short time since we met."

The two talked for a good while beside the river about God's love and what it meant to them. They spoke with awe about Jesus' resurrection and of Lazarus' own returning from the tomb. And as the last of the sun's light spread a dark red hue across the sky, Lazarus promised John he would accompany him across the Mediterranean Sea, to the island of Cyprus, to spread the good news of God's love.

Lazarus left John then, making his way past the campfire lit tents to where he had seen men setting up Sarilia's tent. He did not know where he himself would sleep but was excited to see the baby before finding a place to rest.

"Lazarus, is that you?" Sarilia called softly as he approached the tent. As he moved the tent's cloth flap and walked inside he could see her beautiful smile lit by candlelight. "The babies are sleeping soundly." She motioned to the swaddled little-ones sleeping in a large basket nearby. "They went to sleep soon after eating. Where will you sleep tonight?"

Lazarus kneeled near the basket and kissed the rescued baby's forehead. "I don't have a place to sleep yet, but I will find one."

"You should stay with me for the night. I have spare bedding. You can sleep on the other side of the tent."

"Are you sure? I can find another place to sleep."

"No, please stay here. It would be my pleasure. And besides, you should be with the child."

That night, as Lazarus lay in darkness inside the tent, he breathed a deep breath, finally letting himself truly relax. As he turned his head he could barely make out Sarilia's form and the dark silhouette of the basket in the far side of the tent.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for rest and for bringing these people into my life. Thank you for Sarilia and the child. Thank you especially for this night of peace and sense of togetherness I feel with them. Have a blessed night, Lord. Your love warms me.

14

As the caravan approached Antioch days later Lazarus watched the city's homes as they neared them. Children chased each other through the roads and venders had set up shop in the outer streets of the city. Lazarus was amazed at how foreign the place felt. He had only been away from Bethany and Jerusalem for two weeks, and yet being near such a large city was foreign to him. "I have never been to Antioch before," he spoke to John, who was at his side. "It is a beautiful and busy city." Their cart jostled as it met a rocky street beneath them that they would follow into Antioch.

"They benefit well from commerce because of their port on the Mediterranean. There is much prosperity here, but where there is prosperity, poverty is nearby. As we travel through Antioch it is my hope to help those who have little, and spread the word of God's love to all."

Lazarus reached into a pocket of his royal blue robe and thought for a moment. "I look forward to helping you help the poor of the city. When I left my home I brought a pouch of denary with me. I have little need of money, but surely it will help someone greatly here."

John placed his hand on Lazarus' hand. "I'm sure that it will, but be careful to keep your face covered and not reveal yourself. Caesar's soldiers still search for you so that they may crucify you."

The caravan entered Antioch's main thoroughfare as a crowd thronged its market. Venders shouted their goods' names above the people's voices and in some places men and women bid on what they wanted. Then, suddenly, Lazarus heard a cry.

"John! You're John the apostle!" The shouting man came quickly toward the caravan with a basket of bread braced in his arms. "John, what brings you to Antioch? We hear rumors of Jesus of Nazareth's resurrection!"

Lazarus wrapped the cloth tighter over his face as the man approached and more people came toward them.

"John!" a woman called out. "Please heal my child!"

"Why do you come here?" another man shouted. "Take your lies away from our city!"

At this John called for the caravan to halt and stood in their cart. "It's true, I am John the apostle, people of Antioch! And I bring you great news of Jesus Christ's resurrection! We disciples witnessed him with our own eyes and he spoke to us, saying that because he gave his life all people can find peace with him in heaven and be forgiven of their sins!"

"Why should we trust in you and believe in your Messiah?" the doubter called out.

John looked to the man and Lazarus could see how he cared for even the doubter because of the way he stood and spoke. "Believe because he loves you! Believe because he allowed himself to be crucified so that he can share eternity with you!"

The man with the bread basket stood next to their cart. "I believe Jesus was our Lord's son, but I have never been baptized. Would you baptize me?"

"Come, come and accept the Lord's gift." John motioned him near. Without hesitation John withdrew the jug of water from beside him in the cart and held a cupped hand before the man's forehead. "Do you accept that Jesus is our savior and that the Lord is the one true God? Do you wish forgiveness of your sins?"

"Yes." The man looked up to him in anticipation.

"Will you serve the Lord graciously and spread the word of the blessing of his love wherever you go, never denying him?"

"Yes."

"Then be baptized, son of Antioch, and be reborn in the Lord our father's grace." After pouring water from the jug into his cupped palm, John let the water flow over the man's face. He kissed the man's forehead and embraced him.

Lazarus saw strength in the embrace and watched as other men and women surrounded their cart, some coming to witness and others to accept baptism by John. _To witness such a thing is beautiful,_ he thought as John baptized a woman and welcomed her into the Lord's love. The woman wept tears of joy and as John turned Lazarus could see joyful tears welling in his eyes.

"Thank you. Thank you." The woman held John's hands.

As John baptized and spoke with members of the crowd Lazarus looked over their surroundings. The street was relatively clean here and there were none of Caesar's men to be seen. _Once they are alerted of our presence surely they will be upon us._ He watched John as he baptized another man. _But John will not leave until he has baptized as many that wish to be welcomed into the Lord's love._ Then, out of the corner of his vision, Lazarus saw an unkempt man slumped over in an ally just past the front of the caravan. Dirt caked his bearded face. "John," Lazarus touched John on his shoulder and the disciple turned toward him. "There is something I need to do. I will be back shortly."

"Take your time, my friend. We can wait as long as you need."

Lazarus braced his hand on the side of the cart and stepped out into the street. He moved slowly through the crowd as he went toward the man. One of the beggar's hands was crippled and as Lazarus neared him he saw that his eyes were glazed over a hazy white. There was a blank look there. "Are you blind?" Lazarus asked.

The man's head turned toward his voice. "Excuse me?" He had a rasped voice. "Yes, since birth." He hacked out a cough. "Could you spare some bread or a cup of water?"

"I will see what I can do. I'll return shortly." Lazarus remembered the man with the basket of bread and went toward the mass of people where he found him still watching John. "Excuse me, sir, there is a beggar who is in need of food. Could you spare a loaf of bread for him?"

The man turned to him and hesitated. "This bread is for my family. If I give a loaf to one man, more will ask. And if I give to them all, then I will have none left for my home."

Lazarus thought for a moment. "The Lord does not ask only for our love but for our service as well. If we provide for our neighbor when they are in need then the Lord will provide for us in the dark hours of our lives. This man is in need. He cannot provide for himself. Will you share your bread with him?"

After another moment the man took the largest loaf from his basket and handed it to Lazarus. "You are right. If I do not help others then how can I teach my children to be different? And if they were poor then I would hope someone would help them."

"Come with me." Lazarus motioned over to the ally where the blind man slumped against the wall. "Come and see what your bread can do." Soon they had moved through the crowd and Lazarus was before the blind man once more. "I have a loaf of bread for you. There is a man with me who has given it to fill your stomach." Lazarus placed the loaf in the dingy man's outstretched hand and the beggar quickly tore off the end of the loaf and ate the piece, his yellowed and missing teeth evident as he chewed.

"Thank you," the man spoke in his scratchy voice. "Thank you so much." The blind man turned with his foggy eyes almost in the direction of the man with the basket of bread. "And thank you, sir, for giving this to me."

"You're welcome. Do... do I know you? Mathious, is it you?"

The blind man lowered his head so that his hair fell around his face. "I don't remember that name. I can't remember who I am. I have been in these streets for as long as I can remember."

"It must be you. Here," The man with the bread braced his hand underneath the beggar's arm, "come with me to my home. I have not seen you since the soldiers took you from our town in Jerusalem. Even if you do not understand who you are, you are welcome in my home."

After a moment's hesitation the beggar stood and began to limp, supported by the other man, in the direction he was led.

"Thank you, sir, for leading me to my friend." The man with the bread basket looked back to Lazarus. "Who are you?"

Lazarus reached his hand in his robe pocket and withdrew his pouch of denary. "It does not matter who I am. I am a common man, like you. Here, take this. It will help you care for this man."

The man supporting the beggar reached out the hand that the basket was hanging over and Lazarus placed his pouch into it. Feeling the weight of it leave his hand brought joy to him. He felt good after giving the gift.

"You do not need to..."

"I know, but I want to give this to help you both."

"Thank you. I will not forget this. I may not know who you are, but you are a great man."

With that the men walked through the crowd away from him and Lazarus smiled as he watched them go. _Thank you, Lord, for bringing them together,_ he prayed.

חַי

As the caravan approached Antioch's port, Seleucia, Lazarus was in awe of the Mediterranean Sea and the sun shimmering off of its gentle waves. The air was warm and thick as he looked to the large boats docked up and down the port.

"Our boat is over there!" John pointed to a large, undecorated boat at the far end of the dock. "Men in Antioch have readied our vessel in anticipation of our coming. It is one of Antioch's greatest fishing boats and will serve us well in our voyage to Cyprus."

"I have never been out on the Mediterranean," Lazarus spoke honestly. "It is such a vast sea."

John put his hand on Lazarus' shoulder as their cart bumped along the road. "Do not fear for your safety. The Lord will keep us safe on its waters and soon we will arrive at Cyprus where we will preach the Lord's word for a time before moving on."

As the boat was loaded Lazarus joined Sarilia and the babies on the upper deck. A crisp wind blew through him while he held the baby boy he had rescued on the Dead Sea close, covering it with part of his robe to shield it from the wind. On the distant horizon he could barely make out a strip of land and in another direction he could see closer land, what he assumed was Cyprus. Two dolphins jumped out of and back into the sea in the distance.

Sarilia touched her soft hand to his, sending a shiver through him. "I saw what you did for the beggar in Antioch."

Lazarus looked into her pure blue eyes.

She held his hand close, their palms meeting as one. "You are a handsome man, a good hearted man, Lazarus. I would be honored if you would stay with me once we reach Cyprus."

15

Lazarus held tight to the linen net's braid as sunlight warmed his skin. The vast fishing boat rocked gently beneath him and John stood at Lazarus' side, directing men and women on the ship in how to handle the net. It was the day after they left from Antioch and, as they neared Cyprus, John requested they slow and drop a net to catch fish to bring to the people of the island.

The large seine net had been lowered over the side of the ship. Small pieces of stone were fastened to the bottom of the net so that it would drag low in the sea. Its far end was connected to cork floats, keeping it on the sea's surface. They would drag the net to Cyprus with the ship and pull it ashore from the beach, hopefully collecting enough fish to feed the town which housed them for weeks.

"Latch the edges of the net to the hooks along the boat's side!" John called out, more to men like Lazarus than to the seasoned fishermen who accompanied them. "But stay close! If the net looks to be breaking from the hooks take it in your hands once more and call for help holding it!"

Lazarus latched his section of net to the hook nearby and looked out to the cork floats that were moving away from the boat, supporting the net as it stretched out into the sea. He realized it must have been several hundred feet to its edge.

"Raise the sail!" John called out as the massive white cloth was hoisted up and wind puffed it full, pulling the boat onward in the sea toward Cyprus.

Lazarus watched with interest as the net was dragged at the side of the ship. He was able to make out the forms of fish being caught in its edges as they moved.

John turned around and stood beside him at the rail. "Do you know why Jesus referred to fishermen so often in his teachings? He told his disciples that fishing was similar to spreading the Lord's word. We must use the same care, devotion and skill in bringing his message to the world that we use weaving the nets and seeking out the fish."

Lazarus breathed a deep breath of sea air. "Jesus was a wise man. Knowing that he has risen makes me feel at peace in a way, with myself and also in my relationship with God. His care for us and devotion to the Lord always showed deeply in him. He made me at peace when I thought I could not be."

John smiled at him. "You speak with such love of God, Lazarus. And you serve him with your actions. Have you thought of serving him in other ways? Surely your resurrection gives you something that would help others come to the Lord as well."

"It is strange. I still feel distant from my re-birth from death. It is true I am grateful to the Lord for my new life and all that he has given me, but I am unsure of how to use my resurrection to help others. I had hoped Jesus would lead the way. Now he is not with us to show me."

"Look into your heart, Lazarus. The Lord will lead you through that place inside of you. He always has, even when you did not realize that he was there guiding you." There was silence for a moment between the men. "Think about what I have said. Know that, though Jesus is no longer flesh, the Holy Spirit is living within us and I will be with you in your journey for as long as you will have me."

There was warmth in Lazarus' soul and goose bumps ran up his arms. "Thank you, John. Your support and friendship means more to me than I can express."

חַי

As the fishing boat approached shore Lazarus stood at its front-rail, watching their approach to Cyprus' docks. There were several other boats already at anchor in the small port. As they neared the island's sandy beach Lazarus marveled at the pure aqua hue of the sea where it met the sand.

The large fishing boat dropped anchor at the edge of the docks, where open beach stretched out to one side. Men swam out from the beach to grasp the massive fish-filled net and began pulling it to shore.

"Unlatch the net from the boat's hooks!" John called out and Lazarus went to the boat's rail, unlatching the net with the help of others.

Soon the plank was lowered to the dock on the opposite side of the ship. Lazarus met with Sarilia and took the baby he had rescued from her arms. She held her child and together they walked down the wobbly plank to the dock.

"Lazarus, can you help pull in the net? It will take many men to pull it ashore!" John's voice came from behind him.

"I'll be back soon," he told Sarilia and she took the child back from his arms.

Soon he was on the sun beaten beach with his robe removed and a cloth around his waist; rushing down the sand to grasp the net other men were already pulling ashore. The warm sea water splashed up around his legs and body as he ran in. He grabbed hold of the net and pulled hard, digging his feet into the sand and using all his strength to pull backward.

"Heave!" John shouted while joining his side and grinning at him.

Pull after pull they slowly dragged the net up on the beach. Sea gulls circled above and every now and then one would drop from the sky, clasp a wiggling fish with its bill and soar away toward the cliffs of the island behind them. Lazarus' muscles burned as the sun beat down on his back. Then, as pain seared through his arms, he looked up to see the end of the net come out of the sea, its cork boards bobbing as sea water met them on the sand.

Lazarus let the net fall from his hands to the beach and looked out in awe at the musht, biny, mackerel and other fish tangled in the net on the sand. A rainbow of colors reflected in the sunlight from their scales. Men and women were walking out on the net now with net bags to load the good fish into. They would toss dead fish and other creatures like turtles back into the sea.

"Amazing." John was standing by his side looking toward the docks where men and women from Cyprus stood watching. "We can feed many with this catch. People will come to eat what we have caught for them and as they eat we will have the opportunity to share the words of the Lord and his love with them." He walked beside Lazarus as the two men made their way up the beach and put on their full robes. "Come with me," John told him. "People of Cyprus await us up the cliffs, past the docks. Would you stand by my side as I greet them?"

"I would be honored. John, there is something I have been thinking of since we spoke earlier."

"What is on your mind, my friend?"

"I have thought about how to better serve others, how to use what the Lord has done for me to spread his word to the world. I need to tell people in the places we go who I am. I cannot keep my resurrection to myself. I need to tell my story and spread the word."

As they reached the docks the crowd parted and began walking with them past smaller boats. Sarilia and the babies joined their side as well.

"Are you John, one of the disciples of Jesus?" a woman's voice called out.

"I am!" he replied to her. "Follow us and we will teach you the word of the Lord!"

As they stepped from the dock onto a sandy dirt road John turned to him once more. "Would you be willing to share your story today and tell these people who you are and what the Lord has done for you?"

Lazarus breathed deeply. It was a breath of purpose, of strength. "I can think of no better time than now, with you by my side."

The dirt road they walked weaved up a hillside covered in vibrant green vegetation. As they reached a plateau of higher ground that stretched out before them, Lazarus marveled at the beauty of the trees covering the land. A ways off he could see a stream weaving through the earth and people gathered around it.

"That is where we go," John told him. "Believers of Christ have come to be baptized there. Some are from Cyprus and others have fled from Jerusalem in hopes of finding a safer place to be a Christian in Cyprus."

Birds sang in the trees above them. The air felt calming around Lazarus' body.

חַי

The crowd parted as John and Lazarus approached. The people spoke in hushed tones to each other, interested in this disciple who had come to their land and curious to see who the man who walked so closely with him was.

"He will bring the words of Christ to the rest of Cyprus," a man's voice spoke nearby.

"Surely he's an imposter," another man said.

"Do you think he can heal the sick, like they say Jesus did?" Lazarus heard a woman to his side ask.

As he neared the flowing river Lazarus stretched his hands, feeling nervous about what he would soon do. Sunlight streamed through openings in the tree limbs above, reflecting off of the water's current. A beam of sunlight came to rest on Lazarus' chest. It warmed him. They stopped walking, turning around to face the crowd.

"Thank you for welcoming us!" John called out to the people. "It is true I am John, a disciple of Jesus, and I have come to Cyprus to help spread the word of the Lord! Tomorrow we will meet in the streets of Salamis to spread the teachings of Jesus to many who do not yet believe! But today we gather at this stream to baptize those who wish to devote themselves to the Lord! Before you come forward, though, there is a man I wish to introduce to you! You should hear his story! This is..."

"Lazarus!" a woman suddenly called to him from the crowd.

The voice was familiar somehow. As he looked to where the voice came from he saw two women forcing their way toward him. "Lazarus, it's your sisters!" One of the women shouted.

He was stunned. "Mary? Martha?"

Both women ran to him, wrapping their arms around him as tears streamed from their eyes.

Lazarus cried also and embraced the feeling of the tears streaming down his cheeks. "My sisters, how did you come to be in Cyprus?"

Mary stepped back and held his hand. "After the soldiers came to take you we became afraid they would come for us as well. We fled here out of fear."

"And now the Lord has brought us back together," Martha spoke through tears as she continued to embrace her brother.

"I love you both so much. I wanted to return to you in Bethany but could not for fear of my life."

"Lazarus... Lazarus of Bethany?" a man called out from the crowd. "I have heard of the Lord's miracle through you! They say you were resurrected from death by Jesus of Nazareth! Are you that man?"

Lazarus lifted a hand and wiped tears from his eyes. "What you hear is true! I am the man who was dead, who Jesus called to and brought back from the darkness to the world of the living!"

A woman with a crippled back walked forward with a cane. "Can you heal others through your touch as they say Jesus did?"

Lazarus felt heavy. "No. I am but a man, but I will do what I can to share my story and find a way to help the people I can."

A man stepped forward. "Would you baptize me? I have never received baptism and I want to do this to show my love and dedication to the Lord."

Lazarus looked to John. "I..."

"If you want to give this gift from the Lord I believe he would look well on it. You do not need to be a priest to share the Lord's love, just a man with a caring heart." John stepped toward the stream and waited.

"Yes, I will baptize you. I am honored to share your experience with you. Come, come into the water and dedicate your life to the Lord." Lazarus turned and walked into the stream. As the water rushed around his body, through his robe, he thought of his own baptism by John. "What is your name?" he asked the other man as he entered the stream with him.

"I am Markaus. Cyprus has always been my home."

"Markaus, you wish forgiveness of your sins? Do you believe that Jesus is the son? Do you believe that God is the father and accept him as your Lord?"

"Yes. When I walk in the Lord's ways I feel stronger. His love warms me."

"Then come with me, Markaus of Cyprus. Come to my arms so that I may baptize you."

Markaus waded toward him in the gentle stream. The stream's current flowed around their forms. As Markaus neared him, Lazarus held a hand to his back. He could feel the warmth of the man against his hand. _Please be with me, Lord. Please help me in giving this gift. Help me to share your warmth and love._ "May the Lord's love flow into you and may he work through you for all your days." Lazarus leaned Markaus back, dunking him into the stream.

Afterword

Lazarus stayed in Cyprus for the remainder of his life, preaching the Lord's word in the city of Salamis. He grew to love Sarilia and together they raised her child and the boy he rescued from the Dead Sea.

He grew to understand it was not what God gave him that made him a better man, but instead was what he did to spread the Lord's word and help others that enriched his life.

Fact and Fiction

Thoughts from the Author

The resurrection of Lazarus of Bethany is something that has fascinated me from a young age. The idea that Jesus brought a man back from death gives an idea of God's true power and compassion. It shows that God truly can do anything and that Jesus was his son.

As a child a question lingered in my mind after learning of Lazarus' resurrection. How did returning from the world of the dead effect Lazarus? How did he feel about the miracle that was performed? This book is my attempt at answering that question.

Facts

There was not much written of Lazarus after his resurrection but we do know some things. Here are the parts of _Lazarus, Man_ which we know occurred.

\- According to the Bible, Lazarus of Bethany was resurrected by Jesus of Nazareth. He exited his tomb and was met by his sisters, Mary and Martha, and Jesus as well as a crowd who gathered to witness the miracle.

\- Six days before Passover Jesus and his disciples returned to eat a meal in Lazarus' house where Mary bathed Jesus' feet. Judas questioned her for using her ointment on Jesus' feet instead of selling it and donating what denarii she received to the poor.

\- Caesar demanded Jesus and Lazarus be hunted down and tried, forcing Lazarus and his sisters to flee their home in Bethany.

\- Jesus was tried by Pontius Pilate at the temple mount and much of the conversation in this part of the book through Jesus' crucifixion was taken directly from the Bible. Jesus' freedom was offered to the crowd but the group chose to free Barab'bas instead. All accounts involving the Pharisees are accurate as well.

\- After his trial at the Temple Mount Jesus was taken to a seat on a mosaic stone area where he was declared guilty and given over to the mob for crucifixion.

\- Jesus carried his cross through the streets of Jerusalem toward Gol'gotha, a hill where he was crucified alongside two common criminals. During this journey Jesus could no longer carry his own cross and so a foreign man, probably with black skin, who was passing through, was pulled from the crowd.

\- Hours before Jesus died darkness covered the world. Jesus died as light came back to the world and after his death there was a great earthquake.

\- Jesus was buried in a tomb not far from Gol'gotha. After three days and three nights he was raised up from the dead and over the course of 40 days to come he appeared to Mary Magdalene, his disciples and others.

\- His disciples would begin spreading the word of Christ throughout the world.

\- Cyprus is one of the possible places Lazarus was rumored to have fled to with his sisters. It is believed that he spent the remainder of his life preaching the word of God.

Fiction

We may never know what happened in between the time when Lazarus fled and his time preaching the word of God. Did he separate from his sisters? What went on in his mind? Did he encounter Jesus' disciples again?

It is my hope to capture some of what Lazarus may have experienced. We know him as a story, a miracle that was performed. I hope to show him as a Man, something we can personally relate to.

Characters

Barbacus – a leper living by the Dead Sea

Barab'bas – the criminal Pontius Pilate freed when Jesus was crucified

Caesar – the dictator of the Roman Empire, including Jerusalem, during Jesus' time

Eli'jah – according to the Book of Kings, Eli'jah defended the worship of God over that of the more popular Baal. He raised the dead and brought fire down from the sky.

Jesus – the Son of God

John – one of Jesus' disciples

Judas – one of Jesus' disciples

Lazarus – the man Jesus resurrected from the dead

Markaus – a man in Cyprus

Martha – Lazarus' sister

Mary – Lazarus' sister

Mathious – a blind beggar in Antioch

Matthew – a leper living by the Dead Sea

Messiah – the savior and redeemer of humanity

Nicholas – a leper living by the Dead Sea

Pharisees – religious leaders and fundamentalists in the Jewish society at the time of Jesus who focused on strict observance of Jewish laws, ceremonies and traditions.

Pontius Pilate \- the fifth Prefect of the Roman province of Judaea, the judge at Jesus' trial and the man who authorized Jesus' crucifixion

Rock-Rabbit – one of the few creatures that live by the Dead Sea

Sarilia – the midwife in John's caravan

The Lord \- God

Thomas – a man from Zeboiim, Matthew's brother

Places

Antioch – a city along the east of the Mediterranean Sea

Bethany – a village to the east of Jerusalem where Lazarus' home is

Bethlehem – the birthplace of Jesus

Cyprus – an island in the Mediterranean Sea

Gol'gotha – the site outside of Jerusalem's walls where Jesus was crucified

Jericho – a city of Israel

Jerusalem – Israel's largest city and the location of Jesus' conviction

Judea – a territory within the land of Israel whose boundaries were variously defined at different stages of bible history

Nazareth – the childhood home of Jesus

Salamis – a city in the east of Cyprus

Selencia – one of Antioch's ports along the Mediterranean Sea

Temple Mount – the place where the crowd gathered to witness Jesus' trial in Jerusalem

The Dead Sea – a salt lake that the Jordan River feeds into, to the east of Israel

The Jordan River – the river serving as the eastern border of Israel which flows into the Dead Sea

The Mediterranean Sea – a sea which connects to the Atlantic Ocean and is to the west of Israel

Zeboiim – the last city along the end of the Dead Sea

Things

חַי – the Hebrew symbol for "living"

Praetorium – an officer's quarters or judgment hall

Also by Scott J. Toney

**Thomas, the young King of Havilah, is drawn to a forest beyond his lands. Here he discovers seven figs, fruit from the long forgotten Eden.**

In the land of Cush, Princess Lilya suffers under the rule of her father, until the day when young King Thomas of Havilah invites her away to his lands. There, she hopes to find peace she has never known.

But Thomas has been drawn to a foreign land, to figs he hopes are from Eden and the Tree of Life. When he eats them to heal his wounds things change within him, distorting him in ways he could not predict.

Now Lilya must make a decision. Does she stand by Thomas' side or act to dispel the evil consuming his soul? Amidst this world Lilya has befriended a dragon. There are secrets within the beast that could determine all their fates.

"...utterly believable and yet simultaneously fantastical! This is not unlike the styling of C.S. Lewis. It is an epic, fantasy tale that will hit home with all readers, and when the last page is reached, leave them with a thirst looking for more of Scott J. Toney's writings!"

– Laura A. Diaz, author of They Call Me Blanca

1

The Fruit

Dense mist draped around Thomas, the young king of Havilah, as he rode his steed through an overgrown trail of serpentine vines and luscious vegetation. The gray air smelt of ash and honey. Flowers bloomed through the land's mists and fog. His personal guards; Pine, Juniper and Cypress, rode steadily behind him. Their horses had hair the color of coal.

"We should turn back sire," Juniper spoke to his king as his horse neighed and threw its head, trying to dislodge its reigns. "There is nothing here but dense woods."

"No, just a short distance further," Thomas called back to his men, wiping dampness from his face. Why was it that he felt pulled to this land? He did not know what it was that had made him desire to leave his kingdom, but he had felt something unknown pulling him toward this foreign land for many days. He had sailed on the Pishon River to another river and then to this forest of great beauty and mists. But for what?

His horse stumbled on a decaying log and he had to force its head up to stop it from bolting. It picked its way through the roots and vines littering the ground. Thomas looked around him. There were no birds here, no animals of any kind that he could see. As he rode his horse farther, the lure he felt to this place grew. Some unknown attraction called to his soul from the earth below and the taste of ash grew in the air.

He was here.

He dismounted. His leather boots sank into a swamp-like mud. A sucking sensation tickled at their soles. Cautiously, Thomas stretched his cloaked arm into mists drifting about the ground next to a decaying tree. The tree's bark was charred and its crooked, rotting form leaned to the side. He felt around the cool air and moist soil until his hands touched on something firm but malleable. As he withdrew his hand from the mists there were three shriveled, greenish-brown objects in his palm.

"Figs sire?" Pine called to Thomas as he rode near. The guard's horse stomped its hooves in the swampy earth.

"Are they not wondrous," the king said. ''They rival any growing in our gardens and here they grow wild, without care." A surge of strength pulsed through Thomas's hand. _They feel like sacks of skin,_ he thought. "I don't know how I know, but these are what we've come for."

"We should have care, my lord," Juniper said. "It shall be dark soon."

"Yes," he wondered at the figs. "We should make haste." Thomas collected seven figs from the ground and placed them in a sack strapped to his steed's side before remounting her. Eerie warmth exuded from the fruit as he turned his horse and headed back toward their ship. He felt grateful to have found what he had come for.

As the group of four rode quickly from the dense woods, leaves from trees around them become brittle and fell. Thomas and his guards reached the unknown river and the young king turned his steed around so that he could better see the land. Darkness hovered over the place and he suddenly saw shadows moving restlessly through the trees. "Board and pull up the plank quickly," he instructed his men.

Once their horses were safely led below deck Thomas helped lift anchor and secure the rigging. The rope braids burned against his hands as he worked them. There was something inherently wrong about this place and he didn't want to find out what those shadows were.

Below deck their horses whinnied as the men and their servants released grand white sails into the winds and began directing the vessel back to the river Pishon. At the port side of the bow of his ship, Thomas stood leaning against the sturdy wood of the railing. He listened to the sound of the sails catching the wind. He shivered as he watched the shadows leaping through the trees along the shore where they had come from. Beastly howls came from the shadows and the woods.

A cool nervousness ran up his spine.

2

First Sight

In the dark of her room, tucked warm beneath her covers, Princess Lilya of Cush shook with fear as someone beat against the outside of her room's door.

THOOM! THOOM! The noise echoed across the room's chilled stone walls. Lilya imagined the wood flexing with each beating.

"Let me in!" a voice demanded. It was the deep voice of one of her personal guards.

She remained silent and sank further into the darkness of her covers. Maybe the guard would just leave.

The noise stopped and then seconds later something came splintering through.

She could hear the guard's arm as it scraped past the splintered wood of the newly gashed hole to undo the lock.

There was a clicking sound and the door softly brushed open. "Where are you princess?" the guard's low voice came. His footsteps trod heavily on the floor. "Lying down to sleep like a good girl? Your father has promised you will bed me tonight. He lost a game of cards in the keep." The guard's knee pressed into the cushion of the bed.

Lilya moved quickly to the opposite side.

This wasn't the first time her father had wagered her body in a bet.

"This won't take long!" The guard clamored with his large calloused hands until finding her wrists and pinning her against the bed.

Lilya shook violently and winced. The reek of beer consumed his breath as he huffed down upon her and clumsily touched her curves.

"Hold still!" he commanded before clutching both her wrists with one arm and pulling down her under garments with the other.

"No!" Lilya balked and wailed causing the guard to lose his grip on her wrists. She clawed his face with her nails and attempted to escape but he pinned her legs down with his own.

"The more you fight the longer this will take!" the guard bellowed as he repined her wrists. He ripped a hole in the front of his pants with his spare hand and approached her below.

"No!" Lilya screamed again before the guard's hand silenced her mouth. She bit him and thrust her right leg out from beneath him, bashing it into his groin.

The guard curled over in pain as Lilya fled from her bed and down the hall outside her room.

"You wench!" the guard screamed in pain.

He would soon follow her, Lilya knew. The torches burning against the castle walls blurred as she ran past their lights. "Help!" she called out. But no-one replied. Had the whole castle lain down to sleep?

The stone walls curled as she dashed in a circle and then down a flight of stairs. One foot after another, she descended the stairwell as her mind raced, certain that at any moment the drunk would catch her.

Suddenly her bare feet caught in a stone groove and she went careening to the floor.

From where she had come, the guard drunkenly stumbled toward her. "Now I'm going to hurt you as well!" His lips slumped on his face in his stupor. "Stay still wench, so I can drag you back to your room!"

_Not tonight,_ Lilya thought while clamoring back to her feet and down the torch lit hall once more.

With a pivot on the cold floor she darted into the main hall where cloth tapestries depicting Cush's history rippled in a breeze against the walls. A knight in one of them seemed to look at her with a stern bravery on his face and a bone white sword clenched in his fists.

"If only you were here now," she whispered beneath her breath as she searched the great hall for somewhere to hide. _Behind father's throne? No. Surely he'll look there._

If she hid anywhere in the hall, she decided, eventually the drunken guard would discover her. Her heart thumped rapidly against her ribcage. There were swords hanging with a shield against the far wall.

Within seconds she reached them. She pulled on a sword and it came loose from its brace. She could barely support its weight in her hands.

"Ha...!" the guard mocked her as he exited the stairwell and saw her struggling to wield the weapon. "A little role-playing before the festivities young soldier?" His drooping smile revealed crooked rotting teeth. He licked them. The motion repulsed her. "Come to me, wench!"

Lilya held the sword in the guard's direction while walking backwards toward the main hall's massive outer doors. "Stay back," she warned him.

He followed closely a few feet from her blade.

As her back met the wooden doors she swayed her sword toward the guard and pulled with all her strength on the heavy door behind her. It slowly gave way and she slipped from the torch lit hall into the pitch-black night.

Where to go? The scent of spring flora wafted through the air. She remembered the labyrinth to the castle's side and darted for it.

"Not so fast, whore!" the guard's voice startled her as his massive hand clutched her wrist, throwing her to the ground.

As she rose and began running, she thought, _He will come._ Her weapon braced close in the black night. _And when he comes I will run this steel through him._

"Here, kitty kitty!" the guard mocked her.

The darkness was silent.

Something warm overcame her and a light in the distance rapidly came her way. It dove from the sky above and crushed into the ground, quaking the earth beneath her.

There was a faint red glow and the scales around its winged body rippled in the breeze. Muscles in the creature's long face tensed as its pure nova white eyes pierced the guard's own stare.

The guard backed toward the castle doors, quaking with fear, and stumbled into them. He fell to the ground. As he lifted his head and brushed his unkempt hair from his face he mumbled to himself. His hands shook and he looked frantically around.

The dragon walked forward, tossing dirt with its claws. **"** **Leave her be,** **"** the voice boomed forth from the dragon's mouth.

"It speaks!" The guard found confidence through his intoxication and strode toward the dragon as he mocked it. He lifted a cragged stone from the earth close by and chucking it against the creature's forehead. "All hail the great beast! Why don't you just leave me and this pretty maiden alone and I won't have my fellow guardsmen hunt you down and slay you."

" **You assume I'll let you live.** **"** Smoke fumed from the beast's nose.

"This wench is my prize and I'm not leaving without her." The disheveled guard retrieved the decorative sword from Lilya's stunned hands and approached the scaly creature. "And besides..." He swung the sword in circles, passing it from hand to hand. "You assume I'll let _you_ live."

" **I warned you boy.** **"** The dragon dislodged a paw from the ground, thrust it against his attacker, and plunged him amongst a plume of dust in the earth.

"Let... me... go..." howled the guard as he pushed with all his might against the dragon paw that pinned him. He reached for the sword that was just out of reach beside him, but was unable to free himself from the massive paw.

" **This is your last chance. Go in the castle and leave me and this young lady alone.** **"**

As the dragon lifted his paw the guard clamored for the sword and rose in a threatening stance. He charged and opened his mouth to scream but never gasped a breath.

An inferno of light and flame exploded forth from the dragon's mouth, instantly dispensing the man's clothing in a puff of ash. His skin boiled before charring against his bones and soon in the licking flames of the dragon's breath all that was left of the soul that once was, were his blackened bones as they tumbled to the ground.

The fire sucked back into the mouth from where it had come. **"** **You are safe now.** **"** The dragon's massive paws churned soil as he approached Lilya.

She fainted against a patch of lush grass.

With all the tenderness a dragon could muster the beast scooped the maiden into one of his front paws and stared at the soft beauty of her face. Slowly her head rolled to the side and rested in a groove of his palm. He would look after her tonight; at least until she awoke and could take care of herself once more.

With a gust of his wings he was airborne in the night sky. Earth below him disappeared in darkness as he soared above, destined for his lair in the mountainous cliffs outside Cush.

The Ark of Humanity, also by Scott J. Toney

God flooded the earth to annihilate humanity's sins. What if that sinful race didn't die when floodwaters covered them but instead adapted to breathe water?

"I can see comparisons to Philip Pullman's 'His Dark Materials' trilogy in some of the themes raised [in The Ark of Humanity]. As with Pullman's 'daemons', the relationship between the beings and their companions who transport them is particularly enjoyable, a relationship which also reminded me of the dragons in the film 'Avatar'. I can see this as a fantastic storyboard for a Pixar film."

–HarperCollins

"And God saw the earth, and behold, it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted their way upon the earth. And God said to Noah, 'I have determined to make an end to all flesh; for the earth is filled with violence through them; behold I will destroy them with the earth. Make yourself an ark of gopher wood; make rooms in the ark and cover it inside and out with pitch...

'For behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life from under heaven; everything that is on the earth shall die. But I will establish my covenant with you; and you shall come into the ark, you, your sons, your wife, and your sons' wives with you. And of every living thing of flesh, you shall bring two of every living sort in the ark, to keep them alive with you; they shall be male and female. Of the birds according to their kinds, and of the animals according to their kinds of every creeping thing of the ground according to its kind, two of every sort shall come in to you, to keep them alive.'

Noah did this; he did all that God commanded him.

Then the Lord said to Noah, 'Go into the ark, you and all your household, for I have seen that you are righteous before me in this generation...

'For in seven days I will send rain upon the earth forty days and forty nights; and every living thing that I have made I will blot out from the face of the ground.'

And the waters prevailed so mightily upon the earth that all the high mountains under the whole heaven were covered. And all flesh died that moved upon the earth, birds, cattle, beasts, all swarming creatures that swarm upon the earth, and every man; everything on the dry land in whose nostrils was the breath of life died."

  * The Book of Genesis

But those beings whose home was the waters lived, as did those who fled to the waters instead of away from them.

1

The Escaped Scroll

Between Sangfoul and Baneal

In the depths beneath the sea

Darkness and oceanic starlight shimmered around him as Evanshade pursued the youth he had been sent after through the ocean depths. His heart pulsed strongly in his chest and his thick tailfin beat heavily behind him. _Where are you, boy?_ Then, with a glance, he saw movement on the dark horizon.

"Halt! Surrender and you will not be harmed!" he called out. It was a lie, but would the lie produce his prey? No, the boy continued away from him in the distance. With a pump of his tailfin Evanshade burst forward, hugging close to the ocean floor as fish swam up, curling around his body in startled fear. Now that the youth was in his sight he would close on him quickly.

He didn't want to kill, but this boy carried secrets, secrets he had stolen from Sangfoul. They told of things that were soon to come and Evanshade could not let those secrets get out, not if he treasured his own life and wanted to keep it. He was a leader in Sanfoul's forces and the dark lord would never let him survive if this information escaped.

Water curled around him.

With another pulse from his fin he neared the boy, lifting his trident upward and driving it down into the legged boy's back, crushing his body to the sand below and pinning him there. _Crack!_ The sound of the boy's spine breaking beneath his trident's force echoed through the depths.

"Ach...c...c..." The youth's body convulsed as globules of blood spewed forth from where the trident pierced him.

Evanshade felt bile rising in his throat but swallowed it down. "It is how things must be," he told the dying boy as the youth's fingers scratched at the ocean floor below him. "And there is much more to come, not for you, but for the others. I cannot stop it. I am trapped in this as much as your people and the people of Meridia are destined for their fates."

He drew a dagger from a whale-leather sheath on his side and drove it through the youth's back and into his heart, taking what remained of life from him. Then he withdrew the dagger and brought it to the dead boy's finger, pressing down against it and severing it from his hand. _This will prove your death,_ he thought. _How many lives are traded for me to live? How many lives am I worth?_

Evanshade tucked the bloody finger in a pouch at his side, sheathed the dagger and, while holding the dead body firm under his fin's weight, hefted his trident out of its back.

With a turn and a pulse of his fin Evanshade disappeared in the starlit darkness of the ocean once more.

*

From beneath the boy's body a small kelp scroll was carried out by the currents, moving onward in a journey its messenger would never make.

Later the boy's father, a leader of Baneal, would discover it and then his son. He would cry tears into the water as blood permeated around him.

2

Beginnings

Orion's Birth

To many men, _Orion's Birth_ was a place hushed; plagued within their thoughts, vanquished from their words. But Maanta was not just any man.

In truth he was not a man at all but rather something of a boy, and amongst his peers was observed as more strange than not. The most normal of his bizarre traits was the fact that his body had not agreed with him in the decision to lengthen and evolve into adulthood.

In the recent illuminations and fallings of the sun, his peers in the _Meridian Hearth Sands_ grew many minnow lengths. Their chests broadened, muscles gained definition, and their vocal cords evolved into tones akin to that of walruses, as opposed to the high-pitched sounds of whale songs.

*

Maanta's pale, thin legs reflected dim crescents of sunlight as the rays pierced the surface and refracted through the northern current of Orion's Birth, giving a prismatic sheen to the multicolored fins on either side of his ankles. Warm curtains of light delicately played across Maanta's body before finding rest upon the surrounding sand; his chest a canvas for their wavering, his eyes of pure opal dreaming longingly of the births above.

His slim, white fingertips sifted meticulously through the soft earth as he gazed towards Orion's oceanic sky. Maanta's frail insecurities showed not in this majestic place. This was his place. This was his home.

_I wonder what all of this means,_ Maanta thought as he breathed in the brisk midday passing currents.

All about Orion's Birth, bubbling plumes of silver, emerald, and other hues swam towards the sea births overhead. This transparent liquid was long feared by his race and forbidden from their sands.

In youth, before his mother's death, Maanta had been taught this belief. Amongst his mother's kelp-melded cove, embedded along the _East Shale Wall_ , she spoke of these things. The myth of the transparent fluid was something she had told him of. Her sweet scent of jelly flora still fresh upon his mind, her words simmering upon his tongue...

" _Junge Fisch,"_ she had said, _"Many fathoms past whence aqua fabrics first roamed the world and mortals breathed their beginnings we existed of the transparent womb. Our elder ones traversed many wheres above the seas and partook much of those wheres' fruits. Seas were not the places in which our ancestors dwelled. And so it was for many years that men ate northern meats and northern fruits and cherished the world of sand._

Then one day a dark being fell from beyond the northern land plummeting deep within north's soil, for in this sand, air, we breathed, and Gelu kept all where sands did meet the water's shore. Gelu had shunned the dark one and so gave him forth the ancestors to do with as they wished.

With coming tides came knowledge from the dark man, allowing our ancestors to grow north fields vaster than a chasm's deepest deep and providing them with gems in such amounts that greed took their souls. And so it was, that man took in Gelu's drowned son and many shrines were erected in his glorification. The dark one was pleased and soot and shade disgraced the sand.

Gelu forsake our ancestors for this and so, as he had drowned the dark one he soon would drown our peoples. Telling only the pure of heart, Noa, of his plans Gelu forsook the realm of men commanding the currents which we breathe into our gills to devour all the northern sands giving birth to our new world.

Legend has it that the dark one still dwells somewhere beneath our depths shunned by our people for all time's realm. Few of our people adapted to the ocean breath and it is said that if any man breathes north fluid again his soul shall cease to be."

Maanta's mother had finished this particular haunting tale with a warning to never approach the deadly fluid which pulsed within the walls of Orion's Birth. Of course this was all the more reason for Maanta to seek out the fluid. Because of this very tale the people of the Meridian Hearth Sands dared not venture past the glowing runed walls. Maanta was the only one to have entered within this place for many tides and was shunned for doing so.

Water currents swam between his slim, pale back and the clay earth beneath him. Closing his eyes, Maanta submerged his fingertips within the cool clay, embracing the currents rippling beneath his body. When he closed his eyes he almost felt as if he were a Manta Ray and not just a Maanta boy, with his swiveling body braced close to the sand and kelp floor. He imagined he was a ray combing the depths for food and exploring the world, speaking to the fish as he pulsed along. He imagined the sunlight warming his closed eyelids to be molten crevices in the crust of the Meridian Hearth Sands, illuminating his trail to future seaweed fields and volcanic chasm delves.

A school of glimmering fish swam in unison across his long bluish gray fins, tickling them. The fish flowed with graceful ease until the horizon swallowed their path. While immersing his thoughts in the cast of imaginary lava webs and swaying vegetation, Maanta awoke. One lone ripple peacefully swept itself across his daydream, then another, and then another until every precious flowing droplet of his illusion shivered into a blur.

*

Water calmly embraced Maanta's eyes as the makings of Orion's Birth wove his thoughts from their dream scape into reality. The marble runed wall, which was built long ago to assist Orion's Birth in performing whatever task it might have been created to perform, had begun to echo its melodic song in skipping waves across the inner sanctum.

It was here that Maanta lay; his pale, trembling fingers grasping soft earth while he had dreamt his daydream. Swarming, bubble plumes rose from the inner room and from the very sand beneath where Maanta had hovered and slept just moments prior.

_They dance like fish schools,_ Maanta thought while watching as the bubbles waltzed towards their new home with the rest of their fluid's family on the ocean's surface.

Releasing his embrace from the ocean floor, Maanta used his ankle fins and cupped webbed fingers to swim his way up and over the inner Orion's Birth wall. Along his ascent away, he wove somersaults and flips through the inner room's bubble tapestry and managed the last minute rescue of a pearl white snail from the sand a few feet from the wall. He tucked it in a whale hide satchel his mother had gifted him some time before her passing. The tiny visitor would be safe here until Maanta could find a more suitable place to set his newfound friend down.

Once far enough away from the happenings in Orion's Birth, Maanta curled a half turn to peer back on this place he so loved.

Orion's Birth consisted of three oval walls. Two were made of stone that was consumed by millennia of kelp, coral and anemone inhabitation. The third, inner wall, was pure shimmering white, splattered with glowing runes the size of a young whale's fin. This wall glowed with the soft, seemingly beaconing light of _north_ 's constellations. Their calm, entrancing beams glimmered off the coral-covered walls, sprinkling shades of yellow, red and orange throughout the depths. Four outstretched pillars in the center of the final ring stood as titans and draped a shadow down on the surrounding sands. Their arms reached up as far as the eye could see.

All of a sudden, the center of Orion's Birth filled with the clear liquid in a vast plume, which vaulted upwards and pressed in rolling currents against the ocean's upper film. Filaments sand drifted slowly down. Neon streamers of light also danced before Maanta's eyes. He had seen this display so many times yet was always mystified by the sight. He knew it was deadly if you got caught up in its plume, however it was also incredible. The currents were coming, and now it was time for his wild ride back to the Meridian Hearth Sands.

Maanta grinned with anticipation. Dipping swiftly down, he swam with ease. He knew what he would discover upon reaching the floor.

Archa...

His fingers quickly slipped around her smooth fins, and Maanta braced himself for what he knew was soon to come.

Archa was warmed by her friend Maanta's body once more close along her back. Her deep dolphin eyes swept the distance in preparation, partaking of the calm before the storm.

*

Currents surged down the towering, transparent walls of the fluid column; swarming towards the ocean floor. A flurry of sand stirred as the currents dashed and swept for the ocean's expanse, carrying many creatures and sands far, far from their homes.

The pair, Maanta and Archa, caught the pummeling current with ease, disappearing from Orion's Birth, destined for Meridia. Maanta softly kissed the dolphin's forehead and pulled himself closer to his friend in a tight embrace. The two... a harpoon in the ocean's breeze.

Other BHB books we recommend:

Fantasy

The Ark of Humanity, by Scott J. Toney

The Awakening: Dawn of Destruction, by Cara Goldthorpe

Eden Legacy, by Scott J. Toney

Horker's Law, by Mike Lee

The Beholder, by Ivan Amberlake

Sci-Fi

Fey, by Mike Lee

Christian True-Life

No Kiss Goodbye, by T. Donna Robison

Christian Historical Fiction

Lazarus, Man, by Scott J. Toney

Visit Breakwater Harbor Books for these and other great titles!

www.breakwaterharborbooks.weebly.com

