Free The Son, The Sudarium Trilogy - Book Two by Leonard Foglia, David Richards

the years. She believed they had done wrong to abandon the babe in that New Hampshire cottage twenty years ago without a fight. But Eric had been her rock. It was his steadfastness that had kept going, kept her faith from turning to bile. “The ending is not yet here,” he reassured her, whenever her courage failed her. After all, he was the one who had isolated the DNA of Christ from the cloth of Oviedo and genetically altered the eggs Hannah carried in her womb, so that she would give birth to none other than the second Redeemer, Christ himself. It was Dr. Johanson’s knowledge, his vision, that had inspired them all to carry out the instructions that Jolene had received.
    And it turned out he was right. Here they all were, guided by an act of God - for what was the mudslide, if not a case of divine intervention - back into the life of the young man himself.
    Pure elation seemed to inflate the voice of Dr. Johanson. “When we saw your picture on the news, and not just your picture, but the word ‘Miracle’ headlining it, we knew that our work was not over, as we had feared, and that it was time for us to come together again. We have been fortunate to have known for so long what our mission in life was – to reclaim the world from the forces of evil. And sitting here now, we know that it can happen. It will happen. With you as our leader, with you blazing the path, the world will be made clean and resplendent once again.”
    The young man’s mind reverted to his time under the mud and the searing feelings that ran through him; the sensation that he was more alive, more aware, underground than he had ever been above it; the intermingling of atoms that made flesh mud and mud flesh. The bowels of the earth had seemed to contain the full catalogue of human emotions and he, trapped in the earth’s embrace, was privy to them all. He felt he had known the deepest part of his humanity during the mudslide. Now he wondered, why him? Why had he survived? Why was he given this vision?
    He felt as if a hand was tightening around his throat. He couldn’t see the black planet, but he could hear its whirling force, approaching, threatening to crush him. When would he wake up? He forced out a question: “Why this way? Couldn’t God bring his own son back with the wave of a hand?”
    Dr. Johanson smiled knowingly. “That is the very question your m—-, uh, Hannah asked twenty years ago. Of course, He could have. But man had to show that he was willing to learn again, to follow obediently and prostrate himself at the foot of the Divine. God has always chosen us, but now we had to choose Him. And we had been given all the tools to demonstrate our devotion. He had entrusted us with the holy seed. It was our duty to plant it.”
    Dr. Johansen’s oratory was compelling. Yet none of the eyes around the table were focused on him. They were trained on the young man, trying to deduce his reaction from the way he sat back in his chair, blinked his eyes, sipped his water. “There is a world out there, longing for your grace and your guidance,” the doctor said. “Although it is far beyond any of us to know when your leadership will begin, we pray it will start soon. We will be with you always. We are your disciples.”
    The Asian man spoke up first. “I am Yan from China.” One by one, they went around the table, solemnly introducing themselves to the young man.
    “I am Juliette from France.”
    “I am Stanislau from Russia.”
    “I am Alessio from Italy.”
    “I am Sonakul from Thailand.”
    “I am Gonzalo from Spain.”
    “I am Feodor from the Ukraine…”
    “We are Pierre and Yvette from Belgium.”
    Dr. Johansen cast the latter a benevolent smile. “Some of you have been with us from the beginning. Pierre and Yvette are the newest to our midst, but dare I say, they will not be the last. Every day we grow stronger, more numerous, more committed in our duty. Welcome, Pierre and Yvette.”
    The couple acknowledged the