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Prologue
As he turned awayfrom the festive crowd celebrating the arrival of the new year, Sam Sarkhan strayed deeper into the city, seeking solace he knew was nowhere to be found, neither in the heavens nor in the underbelly of Chicago.
For a week now, nightmares plagued his soul whether he was awake or battling for sleep with an intensity he could no longer bear. The suffering and trauma he’d tried to suppress from infancy couldn’t be contained anymore.
It was one of the reasons he’d enrolled in the army as a young man and became one of the most skilled and dangerous soldiers in his home country. To be prepared to confront and take down the demon who’d made sure to destroy his life from the very moment Sam took his first breath.
What wrecked him even more was that it had all been for nothing. The demon had won.
Sam hunched against the bitter wind as he reached the river. The area was tranquil at this time of night, free of tourists and busy workers milling around. It wasn’t calm like the desert of his youth, but it was the only thing he had.
The water echoed the sky, dark and deep with blocks of ice floating along like glittering stars. It beckoned to him, beckoning his soul, promising peace and the quieting of the demon devouring him.
He wished he had another solution, but Sam knew there wasn’t one.
Silence and calm were pulling at him like a siren’s song. He’d had enough and wanted to end it tonight.
His thoughts went to his brothers, all five of them, who’d pulled him out of the darkness, if only for a time. Good men, honorable men in their own way, who’d banded together to slay their enemy. Sam was convinced they’d succeed, even without him.
As a soldier, he knew that the weakest link decided the outcome of a battle, and he wouldn’t allow himself to be that link. His brothers deserved to defeat their common dragon, their father.
With his eyes focused on the flowing waters, Sam barely noticed the soft snowflakes whirling all around him.
A faint smile came to him as he thought about the young boy he’d been, raised by the Bedouins in the desert, who wouldn’t have believed the marvels of the world, let alone the miracle of frozen water falling from the sky.
It had been so long ago, with very few moments of happiness in between.
Tiredness pulled at Sam like a terminal disease, one he knew he wouldn’t survive. One thing was for sure; he wouldn’t wait until he became the very thing he despised.
He looked around and there wasn’t a soul to see him. With the certainty of what he needed to do next, he yanked his cell phone from his coat. He owed it to his brothers, especially Lazarus, to let them know to not search for him, and wish them well on their mission. He’d leave a message and be done with it.
With numb fingers, he dialed his sibling’s voicemail.
“Hello?”
The female voice that answered took him by surprise. He hadn’t expected anyone to answer and Sam didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line.
As he hesitated, the woman continued. “Hello? Are you still there?”
The voice was soft and warm, with a hint of worry in it. Sam didn’t like being the one causing this mysterious woman distress. “I’m sorry. I think I dialed the wrong number.”
The feminine voice lightened. “Who were you trying to call?”
Before he could stop himself, Sam answered. “I was trying to reach my brother. I must’ve made a mistake. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No worries. It’s New Year’s Eve after all. You want to share it with your family. You’re lucky to have one.”
Sam caught the sad lilt in her voice. It mirrored his swirling darkness, and she became unexpected kin of some sort. “You don’t have a family?” Sam was surprised he’d even asked the question, as if it were pulled from his mouth without his consent.
This time, the silence stretched on the other end of the line and he heard the faint background noise of a car passing by and the wind picking up. She was outside like he was.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
The wind blew through the tenuous connection until her voice returned on the line. “I’m glad you called me by mistake. Sometimes, when you’re out there helping people, you still feel alone. It can become almost untenable, such as tonight. Do you understand? Like constantly emptying your cup without having it filled.”
Sam was taken back by what she’d just revealed, a confession that rang so similar to his own, it was like putting a mirror right in the face of his suffering. “Yes, the more it empties, the more torment replaces it, without it having any way out.”
“Yes. Torment is the word for it, don’t you think?” Sam didn’t know how to answer when she laughed, even if it was so sad. “I’m so sorry to swamp you with my melancholy, whoever you are. I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me ramble. You must call your brother, wish him a happy new year and go celebrate with him.”
