Page 150 of The Chase
I peered up at that ancient wall strewn with wild, creeping ivy.
“I’m asking a lot.” He leaned low and stared up at the wall. “But this is important.”
“I promise.”
We left the car and walked the rest of the way, and he pushed open a tall iron gate that squeaked on its hinges. We continued along a pathway covered with overgrown weeds and out-of-control plants. Either side of us were lines of half-sunken graves and most of them lost to the will of overgrown foliage.
Ahead of us rose tall Roman pillars on the side of a derelict church, appearing through the low hanging trees as if nature itself guarded this site. As we neared, I saw the powerful imagery of Christ crucified on the cross that was carved in stone and faded by time.
With my fingers interlocked with his we walked through the large double doorway and went on in, my gaze sweeping along the abandoned church. Above, the roof was so damaged it was partly open to the sky. Rotting remnants of what had once been pews were staged either side.
I jumped when a bird hopped on dry leaves to our left. More rustling here and there gave the wildlife away. The crisp night air surrounded us, and it felt naturally reverent as though an authentic spirituality had found its way in.
Tobias pulled me into him and gave me a reassuring hug. “This church was built in 1879.” His face was full of wonder. “This is what I love about British history. There’s so much to learn from it.” He pulled me along to the front of what had once been an aisle. “Look at the craftsmanship.”
Overhead in a carved arch of stone was an intricate design that would have been worthy of the greatest of cathedrals with its complex layers of delicate flowers.
“Pagan?” I asked softly.
“Influenced by, yes.” He pointed high toward the carved Roman faces set in the ceiling. “There’s your first clue.”
“Are you a member of a secret society?” I said. “We’re going to dance around a central flame, praying to an ancient god.”
“Preferably naked.” He lowered his gaze to my lips. “I’ll watch.”
I gave his arm a tap. “You go first. I’ll sit over there and enjoy the performance.”
He laughed and shook his head, amused, but then his expression turned to sadness. “What you see here is about to be lost and all in the name of progress. This land is worth more than its heritage. It’s going to be demolished. A new skyscraper is set to begin construction in less than a month.”
A cold burst of air washed over me.
“Did you buy this land?” My voice broke with emotion.
“No. It was sold before I heard about it.”
A dread welled and I realized this experience was going to haunt my dreams. “It’s our last chance to see it?”
“This is why we’re here.” He took my hand again and led me farther down the aisle and I wondered if the path we took was through the old rectory. The walls were crumbling.
Descending into the murkiness we circled the stone steps lit up with modern lanterns that led the way. The chill prickled my forearms. Graffiti was scribbled on the walls in ink or sprayed with paint in a show of disrespectful plundering.
“The sacredness is still here,” he whispered. “Do you feel it?”
“Yes, but there’s a sadness too. I don’t want it to be destroyed.”
“There’s always hope. We have that.” He gestured the reason we were here was through that large wooden door ahead. “This is how we change the world. Through them.”
He nudged the door open and I peered in at the sight ahead that was lit brightly with more lanterns—
Teenagers, twenty or so of them, and all of them dressed in work overalls and wearing hard hats. They sat here and there and they were working alongside ten adults. They were excavating.
“Who are they?” I whispered.
Tobias picked up a spare hard hat from a side table and placed it on my head. He took one for himself.
He tied my chin strap and whispered, “They’re college students. The children of refugees. Don’t worry, they only spend an hour down here one evening a week. But it’s enough to stir their passion for conservation.”
“Orphans?”
