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The man entered the living room and something flashed in his right hand. Something sharp. Something deadly.
The stranger's cold eyes coolly appraised the two of them like a predator deciding which of its prey to devour first. As Shari scrambled up off the couch, the man in black sprung into action, leaping forward and planting a fist into her face.
The blow struck her on the cheekbone and she went backward over the couch and onto the floor. She seemed disoriented and lay there defenseless.
Paul's ignored the instinct to run to Shari, and instead rushed to the back of the couch, grabbed the baseball bat, and came up swinging. The man in black ducked in the nick of time and Paul hit the lamp on the stand at the end of the couch. The lamp went flying across the room and shattered against the wall.
Paul cocked his arms back, preparing for the next swing. He knew that he couldn't afford to miss this time. Something about the man told him that he was a trained fighter. He would have to make every blow count or he and Shari were done for. They danced around each other, the man in black first going one way and then the other, looking for an opening. Paul was doing the same thing, mirroring the stranger's moves and blocking each feint. One good swing, that's all he needed.
Paul caught a glimpse of Shari on the floor and shouted, "Get up, Shari! Get out! Run!"
His words penetrated her stupor and she struggled to her feet, limped to the door, and fumbled with the three locks. Blood dripped from her cheek and tears streamed down her face. She tried to move faster but it seemed like one of those dreams where you're trying to escape from a monster but cannot move.
She heard Paul calling out behind her, "Get out, Shari! Run! Run!"
The man in black did not like the idea of her leaving. He circled around the other side of the couch to get her. Paul blocked his way,
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brandishing the bat. He could hear Shari behind him screaming and crying and struggling with the locks.
"You stay away from her!" Paul warned.
The standoff continued a few moments more, until Shari unlocked the last latch. As the attacker lunged toward her, Paul swung. The man ducked, reaching for Shari. Paul swung the bat around blindly and connected with the man's right index finger, crushing it against the molding of the door.
The man in black screamed in pain. Blood spattered all over Shari as she finally got the door open and ran the best she could with a sprained ankle. She was yelling for help at the top of her lungs.
The bat had completely ripped Talon's artificial finger off his hand. The pain was excruciating and as he stared at his deformed hand, Paul swung one more time and caught him on the back. He slammed hard into the door but was up like a shot. That was the final straw. This kid was dead meat.
He spun around and fired off a side kick into Paul's gut, making him gasp and fall to the ground. His brain told him he had to get up and he had to breathe but nothing was working. His eyes were wide with fear.
Talon could hear Shari's voice disappearing down the street. She was screaming and crying for help.
"Call the police! Somebody, help! Call the police!"
People began to open their doors to see what all the commotion was about. Two men approached Shari and she tried to stop sobbing and tell them what was happening. One elderly lady called 911.
Talon had never been this angry before. All he could think about was inflicting the maximum amount of pain.
Paul somehow struggled to his feet. His only thought was to try to escape, not stay and fight. Talon kicked him in the chest, breaking several ribs and knocking Paul over a footstool. He went down hard and was really hurt this time. It was an effort to catch his breath, and the broken ribs almost made it unbearable.
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Talon could hear sirens in the background, but he wasn't through with this punk yet. He kicked him repeatedly until Paul coughed up blood. Talon then struck a downward blow into Paul's face with his left hand. The wound started to bleed profusely and Paul felt lightheaded. He was finished.
Talon strode into the kitchen, grabbed a dishtowel, and wrapped it around his throbbing stump of a finger. The sirens grew louder and he heard car doors slamming. Talon walked toward the door and retrieved the metal finger that had been effectively amputated by the bat. He walked over to Paul.
"You're dead. You hear? Look at me! You are dead!"
He grabbed Paul by the throat and held the sharp steel edge of the finger close. Paul's head lolled to one side. Talon heard footsteps on the stairs, close now. One swift motion and it would be done. He searched for fear in his victim's eyes, the terrible certainty of his imminent demise, the knowledge that Talon's sneering face was the last earthly sight he would ever see....
He found none of these as Paul lapsed into unconsciousness. I could still do it , Talon told himself. I could still end his worthless life .
The footfall of the police storming down the hallway thundered in Talon's ears. No , thought Talon, why put him out of his misery? Let him suffer a while longer .
The two police officers made all of the neighbors wait outside. Shari was sobbing in the arms of Mr. and Mrs. Krantz. They lived two houses down from Shari's apartment and had become like second parents to her.
Several police officers cautiously entered the apartment with their guns drawn. They were shocked at the state of the living room--furniture overturned, the shattered remains of a lamp--clear signs of a massive struggle. Then they saw Paul's body on the floor, his blood soaking into the thick white carpet.
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One officer knelt down beside him and felt for a pulse.
"His heart is still beating but it's extremely slow. He's in bad shape. Call for the paramedics at the Kings Crossing firehouse. They're only a couple of blocks away. We have to get him to the hospital as soon as possible."
"Do you think he'll make it?"
The officer frowned and shook his head.
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THIRTY-SEVEN
WHEN MURPHY GOT WORD about Paul and Shari being attacked in the apartment, he rushed to the hospital. It had been one-thirty in the morning when Bob Wagoner called and woke him up with the news. Several nights a month, Wagoner would work as Police Chaplain for the Raleigh Police Department. They had asked Wagoner to come down to the hospital to be with Shari. As Murphy arrived, he could see there were still three police cars outside of the emergency room. He recognized one of the officers.
Barry Miller was a large man who was definitely in shape. He had a buzz haircut and was clean-shaven. His arms bulged out of his short-sleeve police uniform like they were about to explode. He was taking notes for his report when Murphy came up.
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"Barry, how are they?"
"Hello, Doc." There was no smile on Barry's face. He stopped writing.
"Shari has a few bruises and contusions, but she'll be okay I'm not sure about Wallach. They're--working on him in intensive care. I think it's pretty much touch and go. Most of his vital signs had dropped by the time he arrived in the ambulance.
Murphy headed to the emergency room entrance and stopped. There were about ten people in the waiting room, but Shari was not one of them.
The night nurse, Clara Jane Moline, was behind the counter filling out some insurance forms. Murphy remembered her well from the day Laura had been brought to the hospital.
"Hi, Clara, I'm looking for Shari Nelson and Bob Wagoner."
She smiled. "Oh, hi, Doc. They're down the hall in a small waiting room that families use." She pointed with her pen.
"Thank you. Good to see you again," he added as he rushed off.
"You too," she called after him.
When Murphy got to the waiting room he could see Bob Wagoner and Shari sitting in silence. She lifted her head when he entered, thinking he might be one of the doctors with some news.
She looked a mess. Her hair was disarranged. One eye was black-and-blue and very puffy. There was a bandage on her cheekbone with a large red bruise
surrounding it. She looked worn out, like she had been crying half the night, and she started crying again when she saw Murphy. He went over and held her for a few moments. Finally, he asked: "How is Paul?"
Through her tears she tried to speak.
"We don't know. He's still in the operating room. We overheard the nurses talking about internal bleeding."
That was all she could get out before she was crying uncontrollably.
Wagoner looked at Murphy and shook his head. "It doesn't look good, Michael. There must have been a terrible fight. Paul was beaten
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severely He protected Shari and gave her time to escape. If he hadn't been there and fought the way he did, I'm sure she wouldn't be alive. He's been unconscious ever since they brought him in. They say he's in very serious condition."
"Excuse me, Dr. Murphy, but could I see you for a moment?" It was Officer Miller. He was motioning for Murphy to follow him.
In the hallway, and out of earshot of Shari, Miller spoke. "Do you know anything about what happened last night?"
"Only what Pastor Wagoner told me when he woke me up at one-thirty Why do you ask?"
"After they took Wallach to the hospital, we stayed around and searched her place for clues. We found a bloodstained note that said 'Back off, Murphy!' Do you have any idea what that's all about?"
"Maybe."
Miller began to write as Murphy shared what he knew about Talon. He gave a description of what he looked like, and reported that he spoke with a South African accent. He tried to explain his artificial razorlike finger and how Talon used it to assassinate his victims. Miller was shaking his head back and forth as he wrote. This was quite a story.
"Thanks, Doc. I think the crime lab people were able to get a number of bloody fingerprints. They're also doing a DNA blood analysis to see if there are any matches. With all the blood in there, there's a good chance that not all of it belongs to Mr. Wallach and Miss Nelson. We think that Wallach may have injured his attacker in the struggle."
"I doubt if you'll find any fingerprints or DNA that will match. He's too clever for that. If someone had ever taken his fingerprints, I'm confident that he would have killed them and destroyed the evidence. This is an extremely ruthless and evil man."
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THIRTY-EIGHT
MURPHY KNEW THAT Shari would be at the hospital sitting at Paul's bedside. This was the second time for her. The first was when he was injured in the bombing of the Preston Community Church. And now that he was in critical condition as a result of trying to save her life, there was no way that she would leave his side. Shari was one of the most loyal people Murphy had ever met.
When he got to the room, he hesitated for a moment. Shari was sitting in a chair next to Paul's bed. Her eyes were closed.
Maybe she's sleeping. She's been through a lot .
Tubes were running out of Paul's nose and arms. Electrical wires were attached to his body and to monitors, which were registering his blood pressure and heart rate. He lay unconscious and motionless.
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I'll let her sleep, she needs the rest .
He turned and started to go when his shoe made a slight squeaking sound on the polished floor. Shari opened her eyes.
"Dr. Murphy."
Murphy stopped and turned around.
Shari smiled a soft smile. He could tell that she was still in pain from her injuries.
"I was just praying for Paul."
Murphy saw more black-and-blue marks on Shari's arms and hands. He came over and gave her a hug.
"Any change?"
"No. The doctors still don't know if he will pull out of it. The attacker kicked him severely and did internal damage. They also think he has a concussion."
Murphy pulled up another chair and sat down beside Shari.
"I don't know why the man tried to kill me and Paul."
Murphy tried not to wince. He knew.
"I think he was trying to get to me by hurting you. Paul just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time for him. But he was in the right place for saving your life. I think the same man that killed Laura tried to kill you."
Shari had a shocked look on her face. "Do you think he'll try again?"
"I don't think so. Things didn't work out for him the way he planned. He'll know that the police will be watching for him. I think he'll leave you alone. He made his point."
He was about to continue, when he heard a soft voice behind him. "Dr. Murphy."
Murphy turned around. It was Summer Van Doren.
"I had dropped by the church to get some study notes when they told me about Mr. Wallach. The whole church is praying for his recovery."
Murphy stood and offered her his seat.
"Let me introduce you to Shari Nelson. She's my assistant. Shari,
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this is Summer Van Doren. She's the new women's volleyball coach at Preston."
They shook hands.
"I'm so sorry to hear about your friend, Shari. Have you heard anything about his recovery?"
"No, not yet. He's hurt very badly."
Summer and Shari talked for a while and Murphy listened. Summer seemed so warm and sincerely caring. It was a nice gesture. After about ten minutes she stood up.
"I'll let you be alone with him."
Murphy glanced at his watch. "Shari, you've been here for a while. It's almost six-thirty, how about getting a bite to eat? Miss Van Doren, we would love to have you join us."
Summer hesitated for a moment, looked at her watch, and then said, "I think that will work. My Bible study doesn't begin until eight."
Shari did not get up.
"You know, I'm sorry but I really don't feel hungry. If you don't mind I think I would rather stay here with Paul."
Both Summer and Murphy nodded sympathetically.
Murphy now felt a little strange. What was meant to be a nice gesture for both of the women was turning into something more like a date. He could tell that Summer was just a little apprehensive also. He tried to ease the pressure.
"You know, there's a little Mexican place just across the street from the hospital. We could leave our cars in the hospital lot and walk to it. We wouldn't have to drive around town. Do you like Mexican?"
Summer seemed relieved. The thought of driving somewhere to a restaurant, waiting in line, and eating with an 8:00 deadline made her uncomfortable--especially since Shari had declined to join them.
"I love Mexican."
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During dinner, Murphy questioned her about her life in San Diego, her hobbies, athletic activities, and how she ended up at Preston University. She, in turn, asked about biblical archaeology and some of the things that Murphy had discovered. She was especially enthralled with the stories of his adventures in foreign countries and meeting strange and exotic people.
As the evening progressed they became more relaxed and free in sharing their thoughts and dreams. As Summer took a drink of water, she noticed her watch. It was ten minutes to eight.
"Oh, I didn't realize the time."
Murphy looked at his watch. They both stood up.
"Please feel free to go. I know you have a meeting. I'll get the waiter and take care of the check."
"That's very nice. I'm sorry to run. Thank you for dinner."
"It was my pleasure."
Summer reached out her hand and Murphy shook it. There was a slight pause as they looked at each other.
"I'll see you around the campus," she said with a warm smile.
"I'm sure you will."
As Summer walked out of the restaurant, Murphy noticed a number of men looking at her as she walked by.
Murphy paid the check and strolled back across the street to his car. He got m, started the engine, and turned on the radio. It was playing an old love song.
As he pulled out onto the street, the song on the radio made him think of Summer's beautiful face, blond hair, and deep blue eyes that sparkled while she talked. She had a cute
smile and a laugh that was infectious.
He then found his mind wandering to Isis. Murphy had begun to develop feelings for her ... and now a new woman had come onto the scene and he had mixed emotions. Again Murphy came back to the fact that Summer was a believer and Isis was not.
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Murphy was torn. He knew that the Bible said not to have a mixed marriage with someone who didn't share the same faith. He began to realize that he might be called on to make a decision. He didn't like that thought.
How can you just let go of someone you genuinely care for?
He snapped off the radio. That stupid song had wrecked his evening.
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THIRTY-NINE
The Cave of Markalar, 1083 B.C .
GENERAL ABIEZER was hiding in the Cave of Markalar when one of his aides gave him the news. "Ocran the scout arrived a few minutes ago. He says that the Philistines have ended the pursuit of our army."
"Where have the men gone?" inquired Abiezer .
"Most of them fled east in the direction of Shechem. Others escaped to the north toward Mount Gerizim. Some may have hidden in caves. There is no order to the retreat. They are in complete disarray."
General Abiezer hung his head in disgrace. He too had turned and run for his life. Guilt was now overpowering him for not leading his army. Thoughts of suicide crossed his mind .
The aide continued. "Ocran is a very brave and loyal man. He 216 clandestinely followed the Philistines back to the battlefield and says that they stripped our warriors of their valuables and killed our wounded."
General Abiezer winced at the thought of his brave soldiers being killed in their vulnerable condition .