The Journals of Raymond Brooks (2nd edition) by Amit Bobrov

Author:Amit Bobrov [Bobrov, Amit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781310357039
Publisher: Amit Bobrov
Published: 2016-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

Raymond Brooks

May God Avenge his Blood

May His Memory be Blessed

To the right of the writing a cross was also imprinted on the stone. He was given a Christian burial, after all. I bent closer and touched the letters, read and re-read them, trying to grasp this enigma. Who in this land knew ancient Hebrew well enough to write this inscription? Who would have had the motive to find Raymond, bury him, and write such an inscription? How would they accomplish all this? The letters appeared to be burned into the stone, but I knew of no technique capable of accomplishing that feat. A crow passed above my head, an omen to remind me that I had little time to prepare for my mission. I decided to leave the current enigmas for later and focus on the task at hand.

I first pounded the nails into the boards; all the way through so that they protruded from the other side. I then placed the boards below the windows, upstairs and down, with the nails pointing upwards. I then camouflaged the traps with some black cloth. This done, I cleaned the fireplace of leftover wood. I then climbed up on the roof and poured oil down the chimney, soaking all the walls inside the chimney. Going back inside the hut again I nailed the black cloth into the walls of the fireplace, spread across the opening shaft of the chimney. This made the chimney appear completely dark to a person looking down the smokestack from the roof, should someone contemplate scaling down it. Fireplaces were usually built slightly lower than the rest of the floor so that the ashes would settle there, rather than spread throughout the house. I filled the cavity with oil, creating a small pool. I then carefully tied a short rope around the potion, making triply sure it held before attaching it to the cloth now hanging above. I could not afford to die before my bloody vengeance was complete.

The trap set, I proceeded to the next stage. I crawled under the staircase, filing a few of the steps leading upstairs; I made them too thin to support weight. I then laid out all my tools below the steps, along with every other sharp object I found in the house. Finally, I prayed to God to grant me vengeance and waited impatiently for evening to fall. As soon as the sun set, I poured water on the steps behind the house, hoping that it would freeze quickly in the winter air. Then I hid in the closet, hoping that the bastards would take the bait and come tonight, otherwise... I didn’t want to think of ‘otherwise’. Luckily for me, and quite unluckily for them, they took the bait and came. “Let’s dance with death.” I told myself.

I had no guarantees, of course, that the returning bandits wouldn’t just barge in through the front door, weapons in hand, and ready for slaughter. However, I knew from Simon that they were experienced killers, and thus careful ones.

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