The Prophecy Saving Sarah

By Sebastian Gladwell

New York. A professor of archeology is mysteriously killed. Sarah, a high school journalist boldly researching the most interesting news stories, is trying to solve the puzzle.

When Jack accidentally meets Sarah, a psychic tells him that he must help her or she will die in exactly three days.

While investigating, they discover an ancient secret about the most desired artifact in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sebastian Gladwell
• Release date: Sep 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310497278

Sebastian Gladwell

Sebastian Gladwell has a passion for thriller movies, and he also reads almost everything that he can get his hands on. His perfect day involves escaping from the city and spending time in nature. When he's not reading or watching too much TV, he enjoys writing fiction.

Book preview

THE PROPHECY:

SAVING SARAH

SEBASTIAN GLADWELL

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Text copyright © 2014, Sebastian Gladwell

Cover copyright © 2014 Sebastian Gladwell

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Jack and the old man sat tied to chairs in the industrial warehouse. Near them, Sarah was lying unconscious on the floor. They were surrounded by a group of armed men.

The door slammed open and another man entered, striding directly toward them.

Jack felt a numbing chill when the man in front of him stuck the barrel of the gun to his forehead. Their death was near, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Chapter 1

Good morning, Jack. It’s a beautiful day today.

Melissa was one of the two nurses who greeted him each morning.

With a raised eyebrow, Jack shook his head, slightly disappointed, and muttered softly,

Yes. It is.

He offered a small, sad smile to the two women in reception and shuffled down the corridor.

His uncle's health had deteriorated in the last week. He wasn’t speaking, but was instead staring at a wall. Sometimes Jack had the impression that there was no one inside Uncle Jeff anymore and all that remained was a hollow body. A month ago, he had made some unintelligible sounds, but nothing since.

Jack had never known his own parents, who had died in a car accident soon after his birth. It was Uncle Jeff who had raised him. Uncle Jeff even bought Jack an old car and worked with him rebuilding the engine so Jack could drive it to school if he wanted.

Poor Jack, murmured Melissa after he had passed by. He’s so attached to his uncle, visiting him almost every day—as if his uncle would wake up and recognize him. I don't even know if my own kids will care so much about me when I get old.

He’s such a nice-looking young man. Is he a high school student? asked the other woman.

Yes, a senior.

At the end of the hallway a man dressed in white greeted him, Hey, Jack! I’m going to come to pick up Jeff for physiotherapy in the afternoon. If you stop by after hours, maybe we could play cards.

Yeah, okay, Jack agreed as they shook hands.

He had been visiting daily for the last few months, and the employees of the nursing home had become like family to him.

When he entered his uncle’s room, Jack stopped. Good morning, he ventured in a deflated voice.

His uncle stared at a point on the wall somewhere.

Turning to look, Jack noticed a slight change in the décor: an old man, quite presentable at first glance, had come to occupy the room. The new occupant had long, white hair and a well-groomed beard; he seemed to sleep serenely, a barely perceptible smile at the corners of his mouth.

He’s just like my uncle. In some kind of coma too. Only he doesn’t stare.

The man opened his eyes briefly as if he had heard Jack’s thoughts.

Jack winced, embarrassed. He turned to his uncle's bed, passing his hand over the mattress as if he had a very important job to do there, namely to arrange the bedsheet.

He gently touched his uncle's shoulder, hoping to get a reaction, but his uncle made no gesture at all.

Jack spent some time in silence, looking from time to time from his uncle to the new patient. Like his uncle, the old man made no movement. He seemed to be in a deep sleep.

What intrigued Jack was the man’s constant, serene smile.

The old man must be on some medication to make him so blissful. I wonder what they gave him.

He touched his uncle’s shoulder again, hoping to find a tiny spark of life, some reminder of the healthy man he’d once been. Nothing happened.

Jack looked again at the new tenant of the room, who appeared lost in a continuous dream. The man’s calm smile was beginning to annoy Jack.

Yeah, he’s just as senile as everybody else in here.

As if again hearing Jack’s thoughts, the old man opened his eyes, only to close them shortly.

Freaky—opening his eyes like that.

With a pained face, Jack turned to his uncle, but then looked down at the ground. Lately things had been getting harder for him. Alone in the apartment, he watched the unpaid bills pile up.

Aunt Stephanie and her husband Billy kept pressuring him to move into their place, not out of concern for his welfare but because they wanted to rent out his uncle’s apartment.

To top it all off, it seemed that social services wanted to check in on him, which unnerved him, and he didn’t know how long he could put them off. He had been living alone for two months, and everyone was concerned.

He hoped that his uncle would recover and return home, and that things would get back to normal. But with each passing day, he became increasingly hopeless.

What am I supposed to do now? Jack asked aloud.

He flinched at the sound of his own voice, but then remembered that there was no one to hear him.

Without opening his eyes, the old man in the other corner of the room responded in a serious voice, Follow the red rose.

Jack was so startled that he almost fell off his chair. He had assumed that the old man was in a coma, just like the other patients. He hadn’t expected him to start talking, and in such a serious tone. The man must have been speaking nonsense, but still, Jack hadn’t expected him to speak at all.

What? Are you talking to me?

It was pointless to try to converse with the old man, as he’d resumed his earlier attitude—eyes closed and body relaxed in a deep sleep from which he wouldn’t awake.

How strange. Uncle Jeff has a weird roommate. I hope he’s not dangerous, the kind of guy who strangles people in their sleep.

At the reception desk, Jack commented to the nurse, Melissa, I saw that my uncle has a new neighbor.

Yes, a new patient.

What do you know about him?

Kathleen! she yelled, turning to the back room.

After a moment, they heard Kathleen’s voice calling from the back room, What?

Come here, responded Melissa.

I don’t want to bother you, said Jack. I was just curious.

Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m curious, too. Anyway, we get bored here sometimes.

Kathleen appeared in the door. What?

Do you know the new patient in room twenty-three?

Kathleen thought for a moment.

No, but I can look in his file.

She opened a cupboard and began searching through some folders.

I thought it was strange—or at least unexpected—when he spoke to me, commented Jack.

He spoke to you? That’s impossible. He’s been in a coma for several days. He was in intensive care, and they did everything they could there. He has little chance to recover because of his age. In fact, anyone who’s staying in that wing doesn't have a chance of recovery.

Melissa. The other woman drew her attention.

The nurse remembered that Jack’s uncle was in the same wing and looked down, embarrassed.

Did he really speak? she inquired, trying to change the subject. What did he say?

He said something about a red rose.

Poor man, he was probably delirious.

He's a professor, reported Kathleen after she studied a folder. His name is Christopher Moris... a professor of archeology. Apparently he had a stroke a week ago. Don’t worry. He's no danger to your uncle, if that’s what you were thinking. He seems to have been a civilized man.

Thank you. Now I’ve got to get going or I'll be late for school.

How is school going? Melissa asked.

Okay. I’m in my last year. So on the one hand, I can’t wait to finish. But I know I’ll miss my friends and maybe a couple of the teachers.

You’ll certainly miss your high school days. It’s the best time of your life. You may not realize it now, but you’ll see it later. Trust me on that.

I have to go, Jack repeated.

Bye, honey, Melissa said.

Chapter 2

When he reached the sidewalk, Jack began to walk briskly alongside the people heading to work. He felt pushed along by the force of the anxious crowd. People around him were in a hurry, seemingly grouchy that they had to wake up early and go to unbearable jobs.

Everyone stopped abruptly next to the crosswalk at the red pedestrian crossing signal.

I hate these lights. When you want to cross, it seems like they’re always on red. I wish it wasn’t so hard to find a parking space in this city; then I wouldn’t have to deal with all these crosswalks.

A few people ran across the street in front of honking cars. Among them, a girl with bright eyes and elegant features drew his attention. Her long wavy hair floated through the air as she dashed across. She was holding some file folders carefully in her arms and, in her hurry, bumped a few people. He would’ve done the same, given how impatient the drivers seemed, but he didn’t expect that she would push him too—and with such force.

Hey, slow down! You’re on the sidewalk now. Why are you in such a hurry? What’s your problem? he asked.

Ignoring him, she continued to run through the crowd, cradling the file folders in front of her as if protecting something. And she was—a little rose.

A red rose. He flinched. What a coincidence...what does it mean?

Quickly he decided that it meant nothing at all and tried to calm himself.

But the pedestrian crossing signal remained red. He would have to wait a while.

The mysterious girl had just disappeared around the corner down the sidewalk from him, and after only a few moments of hesitation, he began to move in the same direction.

I want to see where she’s going, just out of curiosity.

He started speed-walking to keep up with her.

Unexpectedly, he heard the sound of screeching brakes, then a sickeningly loud thud, and finally an explosion. Howls and screams rang out.

Jack stopped abruptly to look behind him—bodies everywhere. A bus that had rear-ended a stalled car had skidded onto the sidewalk near the crosswalk where he had stood only seconds earlier. Bodies were scattered on the sidewalk, all painted in the red of blood. The bus had careened onto the sidewalk, crushed a bench, and crash-landed into a jewelry store on the ground floor of a building.

If I’d stayed there a few seconds longer... I would have been killed.

His heart pumped madly while he feverishly tried to find the cell phone in his pocket to call an ambulance.

He leaned over an injured man, hoping to help, but the man lay unconscious and unresponsive. Jack tried to find his pulse but didn’t feel anything. The man was already dead.

Jack looked up and saw another unconscious man and next to him, a woman, screaming and clutching two wounded children.

In a few minutes, ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks began to arrive on the scene. It was