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Back The Occurrence
Chapters (117)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. PART ONE: Up From Buried Light
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. PART TWO: Re-Entry
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. PART THREE: Convergence
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. PART FOUR: Surrender
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. PART FIVE: The Tablets
  67. 58
  68. 59
  69. 60
  70. 61
  71. 62
  72. 63
  73. 64
  74. 65
  75. PART SIX: The Trial
  76. 66
  77. 67
  78. 68
  79. PART SEVEN: The Cave of Memory
  80. 69
  81. 70
  82. 71
  83. 72
  84. 73
  85. 74
  86. 75
  87. 76
  88. 77
  89. 78
  90. 79
  91. 80
  92. 81
  93. 82
  94. 83
  95. PART EIGHT: Guardians
  96. 84
  97. 85
  98. 86
  99. 87
  100. 88
  101. 89
  102. 90
  103. 91
  104. 92
  105. 93
  106. 94
  107. PART NINE: Into Buried Light
  108. 95
  109. 96
  110. 97
  111. 98
  112. 99
  113. 100
  114. 101
  115. 102
  116. 103
  117. Acknowledgments

Vincente looked at the two of them and knew she was no longer his daughter. She belonged to the world. He’d always suspected that, and in his way lived to protect her so that she might do this work.

“Don’t be sad, Father. We are all part of each other. Always have and always will be.”

The energy in the kitchen changed as the scent of roses drifted in.

Ancient drawings appeared on the walls of the room. Cave paintings from long ago.

They stared at the story that unfolded.

A series of primitive figures rising from sleep—floating in a smokeless fire.

“We’ve been asleep a long time,” Jhana-Merise said. “We’re awakening now.”

PART EIGHT: Guardians

PART EIGHT

Guardians

84

84

Friday, October 16

Nazir entered the Islamic Mosque and Cultural Center in D.C. as the evening call to prayer sounded. Dominique had told him of the meeting she had with Hashim, and for there to be any chance of Hashim finding his way back into their world, Nazir would be the one to test the waters. It would be a risk. A risk because it would be based on a scenario created by the FBI and CIA to perpetrate the lie that Hashim had never surrendered but was captured and had escaped. That’s why he was in hiding. And that’s why he needed to get word out that he wasn’t a traitor.

That the leaders of the mujahideen would believe this was a long shot, but the endless war on terror needed long shots, and Dominique believed it could be done. She had convinced Bruton and the president, each who’d realized, that since what had happened in the warehouse, there were forces at work to help them accomplish an unprecedented act.

Nazir’s body thrummed with the rush of possibility and the chanting that reverberated in the large room that rivaled cathedrals. He was pulled to pray with the men gathered on intricately woven rugs in vibrant colors, for they reminded him of home. But he didn’t pray.

He moved respectfully through the halls down the main stairs to a corridor and series of classrooms.

At the end of one corridor a door had been left opened, and coming from inside—a familiar voice. He edged his way close to the opened door, and for a while, listened as Mariam Sarif spoke in Arabic teaching the Qur’an to a group of young children.

One of the boys in the back row turned and saw Nazir, who motioned for him to turn his attention back to the teacher. But the boy smiled and didn’t shift his focus from the stranger in the doorway.

A few of the other students caught wind of the boy’s distraction and they, too, turned their attention to Nazir, who then saw their attention whip back to the front of the room, and watched as their eyes followed Mariam to the back door.