Part 37 (1/2)
Jason looked at the cover of the book. ”Did you translate it?”
Neither of them answered.
”It's Hebrew. 'The Stories of All Times.'” He ran his fingers across the cover like he was touching silk. ”G.o.d's book. Thousands and thousands of years old at the least. And thousands of years still to come. Will you help me open it, Cameron?”
”Sure.”
As they lifted the cover he kept his gaze locked on Jason's face to see the moment when he realized the truth.
After they set the cover down Jason started turning pages. One. Ten. Twenty. ”Is this a joke?” Jason pulled back from the book and blinked. ”What is this?” His eyes switched back and forth from Cameron to Ann. ”Where is the writing?”
”There isn't any,” Cameron said.
”Explain to me where the words are. What do you do to make them appear?”
”There are no words.”
Jason stared at them for twenty seconds before pulling a knife out of his belt and flas.h.i.+ng his light over the blade. ”This is an Mtech tactical bowie knife. It's extremely sharp.” He lasered his eyes on Cameron. ”Tell me how it works.”
”What do you want me to say? It's a fraud. There are no words on any of the pages.”
With one stride Jason grabbed Ann, yanked her back, and pressed the blade into her throat. ”I've always liked you, Cameron, but I will gut her right now unless you tell me how to read the book.”
”I told you! There's-”
A voice pierced the darkness behind them. ”From the beginning, Jason, you've understood correctly what the Book of Days is. An idea. Only an idea.”
Taylor Stone stood in the doorway.
”Put the knife down. They can't tell you anything.”
Jason laughed.
”Now, Jason.”
He released Ann and shoved her to the side. ”So you're finally going to be the answer man, Stone?”
”Try me.”
Taylor walked to the book, his eyes focused on Jason. ”Get farther away from her.”
Jason eased a half step to the right and pointed the knife at Taylor. ”There, now talk.”
Taylor looked at Ann. ”Are you okay?”
She nodded, her face pale.
The instant Jason let Ann go, Cameron wrapped Ann in his arms. ”Are you sure you're all right?”
”That's more adrenaline than I've ever gotten during a climb.”
”Cameron,” Taylor said, ”I tried to keep you from finding this because I knew it would dash your dreams. I'm sorry.”
”Stone, I want answers,” Jason said. ”What game are you playing?”
”No more games.”
”Then talk.” Jason motioned toward the book. ”What is this thing?”
”There is an old Native American legend in Central Oregon that tells of a book of stories of every man's life. So I've always guessed that settlers from the early- to mid-1800s learned of the myth, tied it to Psalm 139:16, and created this book to symbolize their beliefs. You were closer to the truth than you knew.”
”Why the charade all these years? Why not tell me instead of hiding it, denying you knew anything about the Book of Days?”
”Because until Cameron came along you were content in your belief that the book was an idea, and as you can now see, you were right. But if you discovered this symbol that was created to represent a spiritual crock-pot idea, you would try to get the book declared a historic artifact and fight me to get it moved out of here into your possession. Then you and your followers could wors.h.i.+p it and draw more followers into your cancerous religion.”
”Which I will do.”
”Fine. Try it.”
”When did you find it?” Jason asked Taylor.
”I think you should be more worried about Ann pressing charges than when I found an old pretend book.”
”I'm not going to press charges; I just want him to leave.”
”Answer me,” Jason said.
”Ann?” Taylor asked.
”I'm fine.”
Taylor glanced around the room, then ran his palm over the surface of the book. ”I haven't been in this room for more than twenty years. It is a marvelous piece of history.” He cracked his knuckles. ”I found it in my midthirties and brought it here shortly after.”
”Where did you find it?” Cameron asked.
”That is a story for another time.”
”Is this what my dad saw when he was a kid?”
”I would imagine. It's the most plausible explanation for what he told you.”
”You are a platinum piece of work, Stone.” Jason ran the bowie knife up and down the side of his pants.
”Thank you.” Taylor stared at Jason.