The 13th Enumeration Read Online Free

from that day that he wanted to be an archeologist. Maybe it was a lack of faith, maybe just natural curiosity, but it was a wonderful feeling to uncover a piece of history which further strengthened the historical context of the Scriptures he had been taught all his life. At long last, he had come to the end of his quest for meaning in his life.
    After one-and-a-half years of aimless wandering, he returned stateside with a purpose, much to his parents’ pleasure, and began attending a Christian college in Texas that fall. Every year for the next three years during the spring and summer breaks, he returned to Israel and volunteered on archeolog ical digs. He loved the hard physical work and getting his hands dirty. It sure beat sitting behind a desk! He had been coming back for three years now and each time became more engrossed with the work. It was an indescribably good feeling finding bits and pieces of the past and trying to bring context to those discoveries.
    Returning to the present, Zane looked down at the light blue rope dangling over the cliff. With a sigh he got up and clipped himself in. His rope doubled in his ATC, he rappelled back down the face of the cliff and joined his climbing partner.
    “Good climb, Zane,” Ariel said as he reached the bottom.
    “That was a fun!” Zane replied with an enthusiastic smile. “The crux sure had me guessing for the handhold.”
    Ariel smiled. “But you nailed it with no trouble.”
    Untying the rope from his harness, Zane asked, “Ready to give it another try?”
    “No, not today—my fingers are fried from the last run.”
    Zane and Ariel were both volunteers on a dig in the Negev. Packing up the rest of their gear, Zane asked, “You have any plans for tomorrow? I sure would like to drive over to the Manara Cliffs and give them a try again.”
    “Thinking you’ll find more artifacts?”
    Zane laughed. “No, not really . . . that was a once-in-a-lifetime deal. But I wouldn’t mind climbing there for old time’s sake.”
    “Sorry, my friend, but I promised the professor I would get some supplies for camp, and then I must return to Jerusalem and visit with my parents. Tomorrow is Shabbat, and they asked me to join them.”
    With a shrug, Zane smiled. “No problem. I’ll check it out anyway—I’ve heard there are some really gnarly climbs on the back side.”

Chapter 4
 
    New York City
    Joe Douglas’s eyes blurred in anger as he watched the numbers on the gas pump flash in rapid succession. They had taken everything from him—his wife, his family, his respectability. A convicted felon, he couldn’t even get a decent job. There hadn’t been enough cocaine on him for two people, let alone for “intent to distribute,” as they’d charged him. That hadn’t stopped the prosecutor. Joe was sent to prison for three years and was released a year early for good behavior. When he got out of prison, no one was there to greet him except his anger. His wife had received full custody of the children.
    His knuckles turned white as he gripped the gas dispenser. None of his old friends or work associates from the New York City Water Municipality would have anything to do with him now. Well, he was going to teach those godless heathens a lesson—a lesson the whole world would remember.
    The pump clicked off at 199.34 gallons. Joe pulled the dispenser a little out of the welded auxiliary fuel tank in the bed of his pickup truck and topped it off until the register read two hundred gallons exactly.
    Inside, the man behind the counter looked up with a friendly smile. “Boy, she was thirsty today.”
    Joe nodded. As he pulled his wallet out, he replied, “Man, this is killing me. I wish our crooked politicians would do something about the gas prices.”
    Four dollars a gallon, Joe thought. He remembered when gas was a buck-fifty. He counted out the eight hundred dollars in cash for the salesclerk, took his receipt, and turned to leave. “I’ll see you in a week or