The next days were filled with boredom for Tamar and glorious peace and quiet for Malachi.
"What are you doing now?" Tamar ran over to Malachi. He was seated on the couch and had his little book spread open on his lap.
"I'm reading. What does it look like?"
"Again, all you ever do is read."
"And all you ever seem to do is fidget. Do you ever sit still?"
"Why does this bother you?" She asked, walking back and forth in front of him.
"No, not really," his head dropped back down to the page he was reading.
"Okay fine." Tamar dropped onto the couch next to him and looked over his shoulder.
"Whatcha reading?"
"My Bible."
"Is that all you ever read?"
"Have you seen any other books around?"
"Point taken. But it's all you've been doing since we got up this morning. What's so important in this book that is all you ever read?" Malachi picked the book off his lap and showed it to Tamar.
"Open the front cover." He told her and handed it to her.
She took it and opened the cover. Inside she saw two names written in a script she'd never seen.
"Read em." Malachi told her.
"Matthew R Prey, and Anthony W Prey. Who are these guys?" She asked, handing the book back to him.
"They were my grandfather and my father. My father gave me this Bible the day I left on my last mission. Now it's the only Bible I have other than my own that I have in my stateroom." He waved the book at Tamar. "This book contains more wisdom than any other book ever written. To follow its ways and to study its teaching can make someone wiser than most can even dream of. But also more unpopular than one ever wishes. But to know what's in here, I have to study it, every day."
"Seems like a lot of work to me." Tamar scoffed.
"Anything worth having always is."
"Oh right, now I remember, you're a christian. There was something about your cult in the data banks I was forced to study. But you're the weirdest christian I've even seen."
"Why's that?" He asked, not looked up from his reading.
"I read that all Christians were pacifists. They all believed that violence of any kind was wrong to the point of allowing themselves to be slaughtered, which was what doomed their religion."
"I have no idea what they were reading, but some of the most violent men in history followed God. Many people, even when I grew up, thought that way, yet there are men all through the bible who had the blood of thousands of people on their hands, by the command of God no less. Many men in all the wars America fought in took their courage from their belief in God. So to me, battle is no more a place where I can honor God than any other."
"And how is that? I thought your bible says thou shall not kill."
"No, it says thou shall not murder, murder and killing are two different things."
"Seems like semantics to me."
"Why do you think I'm here right now, with you?" Malachi asked.
"I've been asking myself that same question for days now."
"Because as a follower of Jesus Christ I'm called to protect those who need it. If that means I have to do violent things, that's the world we live in. I will not let anything happen to you. That is my calling as a man to protect the weaker vessel."
"Hey there pal, you'll get your head taken off for that remark anywhere on the planet, so cool it." Tamar bristled at the word, weaker.
"Are you telling me that women are as strong as men, physically I mean."
"I am!" She shot back hotly.
"And you're a normal woman, right?"
"Well, no, but that's not my point."
"Then what is your point?"
"That women are not weaker than men are."
"Yes they are, science has proven it. Women don't and can't have the muscle mass that men can have. Their bone structure is not as dense as a mans is. The female body was not designed to be as strong as the male body was."
"But we are not weaker. We might not have the brute strength, but we are not weaker."
"You are absolutely correct." Tamar looked at him in surprise.
"Than what were you talking about when you said, weaker?"
"Physically, its a mans privilege to protect women who can't protect themselves. On average, if a woman is attacked by a man she has little chance of coming out on top in that kind of altercation. That is where men of God are called to step in, to protect those who need it, when they need it."
"Well I don't need any such thing." Tamar puffed out her chest. "I can take care of myself."
"Of course you can, against any man on this planet I have no doubt. But those that are chasing us right now aren't from this planet are they?" Her shoulders slumped.
"That's why I'm here," his hand moved towards her shoulder and her eyes narrowed. He stopped, holding his hand within an inch of her shoulder. Pulling it back he shook his head and standing, walked towards the balcony. "Now come on, I think we've over stayed our welcome here."
"There was no one to welcome us in the first place." Tamar shook her head, then followed him to the balcony.
"It's only a nine story drop." Malachi said, looking over at Tamar. "Think you can manage it?"
"That's ninety feet, if I had to, yeah. But it wouldn't feel very good, that's for sure." Tamar looked over the rail at the grass far below.
"Okay, you take the fire escape. I'll see you down there." Malachi jumped over the rail and Tamar watched him fall into the distance, only to land as if he were stepping off a curb.
"Show off," she grumbled, then found and scrambled down the nine ladders of the fire escape.
"I don't show off." Malachi told her when she reached him. Then turning and leaning down to her level. "If I ever do, you'll know it."
"Why did we have to move so soon? I thought you said we were going to stay at least three days." Tamar asked.
"We were, but then my sensors started to light up like a Christmas tree. So I thought we'd better get moving."
"How far out are they?" Malachi once again marveled at his companion as he watched the hair on the back of her head and neck raise and point straight up. He was once again reminded of how much feline they had forced this girl to live with.
"Don't worry," he swept his hand through her hair, laying it back down. "They're over a hundred miles away." The hair's his hand smoothed down sprang right back up again when his hand passed through them.
"Hey you," she smacked him in the ribs. "Don't touch the hair." After a few seconds, she gave a heavy sigh and the hairs slowly laid back flat. "I hate it when I do that." Tamar kept her eyes on the ground.
"Why, I think it's awesome." He went to touch her hair again, only to be greeted with his arm being brushed aside roughly.
"Because it makes me feel like an animal. I mean, look at me. I have fangs and claws, and hair all over my body. Did you know I have to stop myself from trying to clean myself with the back of my hand sometimes? I'm a human being, a person, but sometimes I feel way too much like a cat." She stopped walking and just stood there, her chest heaving, face pointed at the ground.
"Hey, don't ever apologize for who you are. You were created for a purpose. Just because you haven't found out what it is yet, doesn't mean you don't have one."
"I know what I was made for. The General made me to kill. She wanted to be able to point to a target, and I'd kill it, no matter what or who it was. That's what I was made for." She shrugged off the comforting hand he'd laid on her shoulder. She knew what she was. There was no use feeling sorry for herself about it.
"Oh Tamar, you are so much more than what you know." Tamar's head whipped around to face him so fast her long black hair flew into, and covered, her face when she stopped. "I don't see a killer in you. I see someone who's fought against what everyone else has tried to make them their entire life." Tamar was glad her hair covered her face. That way he couldn't see her trembling lip, or the tears she was having to blink away. "You want so much more than what you've been given, but you've never had the chance to get it. You don't even know what it looks like."
"Oh, and you do?" She tried to retort.
"Yes, I do."
He reached a hand towards her face and she pulled back as far as she could without moving. She wanted to move, needed to move. Everything in her body told her to move, yet she stayed where she was. It was as if her feet were rooted to the ground. Her eyes grew wide when she realized he wasn't going to stop. He was going to touch her if she let him.
For her entire life, she'd never willingly let another touch her. Every touch she'd ever received had been harsh, painful, even cruel. So she'd become very adept at avoiding physical contact. So why wasn't she moving? His hand was inches from her face, and coming closer, yet still she hadn't moved, and she had no idea why.
Through her panic, her mind at last found the source of her reluctance to move. His eyes, they were staring at her with a look closer to fear than anything she'd ever seen on his face. He was afraid she'd pull away, he was afraid she'd reject him again.
Then his fingers were in her hair and her body involuntarily stiffened. The touch jammed electric shocks all the way down to the claws on her toes. Her eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as he brushed her thick black hair away from her face, then through his suit, she watched him smile.
"I can help you find what you've been missing, help you be what you want to be, not what others have tried to force you to be, if you'll let me."
His hand was so warm, and much to her surprise, soft. He cupped her cheek in his palm, and she pressed it there, wanting with everything she was to make this moment last. To answer his question, she jerked her head up and down, not trusting her voice at the moment.
"I'm glad. I'm going to do everything I can to help you." He said, pulling his hand back. "But I need you to do something for me in return."
Here it come's, she should have known better. No one gives something away for free.
"What do you want?" Her voice was bereft of all emotion.
"I study my bible every morning. I want you to join me. You've been wondering why I do what I do. If you do a little bible study, you're sure to find out."
"That's it. All you want is for me to study your book with you?" Just when she thought she had a handle on the guy, he went and surprised her, again."
"Sure, I mean, I guess I could, if you want me to." Tamar stood there rubbing her cheek where his hand had been.
The next week went by in a blur. Every day started the same, with Tamar sitting next to Malachi, him reading the word aloud and Tamar listening. He started in the book of John, first with the story of Christ's birth, then into his life. At the beginning, Tamar was listening to humor him more than anything, but even as she rolled her eyes and yawned, he didn't seem to notice.
After a few days, the words began to interest her, and the questions began to come. If he was the son of God, why did he come? Why would he allow people to treat him like they did when he could have, with a word, destroyed them all? The questions came like a never-ending flood until Malachi had to cut their study sessions to an hour.
Slowly, they made their way across what was left of the American great plains. The days blended together until they came to what was left of the city of Pierre, South Dakota.
"I think we've outdistanced our pursuers for the time being. What say you to stopping here for a day or two?"
"Yeah, like you said last time." Tamar laughed.
"Hey, that was not my fault. I find it better to avoid conflict when you can. Life's easier that way."
Tamar wondered again to herself about him. Why would he want to avoid conflicts he knows he could win?
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