CHAPTER ONE
The train rattled along unsteadily through the cooling heat of dusk. The carriages were hot, stuffy, peppered with passengers, and this particular one was no different. They all kept their heads down. No communication was being made. It was as if it was a rule to be lonely on this long journey to Galilee.
Mary Magdalene sat with her back poker straight up against the hard, wooden seat. She'd been travelling since midnight, and after a day of waiting for rattling old trains to make slow, poorly planned connections she was finally on the last leg of her journey. She had been on her current train for two hours and had not changed position – her back's searing pain was now beginning to fade into a dull ache against the seat as a result. But Mary simply tightened her grip on the purple cloth bag that lay in her lap and sighed.
She turned her head to watch the landscape whizzing past, her eyes drooping; she'd been up for nearly twenty-four hours straight - there had been no time to rest. You can't rest when you're trying to escape.
Mary's blank expression turned to sadness, her brow furrowing as she thought back over the events of the last day. And then she shook her head.
It would not do to think about it. Not tonight anyway. She had had enough of the chilling tale for one day.
Slowly, edging a little closer to the window, Mary rested her temple against the cool glass.
Her clammy forehead was suddenly soothed, the pain in her back mercifully eased, and with that relief her eyes began to close.