Read The Lost Apostles for Free Online Page B

she-apostles could be aboard. Her only sensible strategy was to be defensive, and try to hide.
    The noise became very loud, but still she saw nothing, leading her to believe the aircraft was in a visual stealth mode, but for some reason its sounds were not being dampened as much as usual—maybe something wrong with it. For several agonizing moments the ’copter seemed to hover directly overhead, and she thought she saw a disturbance in the air, slight and barely perceptible. Then, gradually, the throb of rotors faded away, and the anomaly in the air disappeared with it.
    * * *
    A few kilometers away, Alex’s thoughts were on Lori, just as hers had been on him. In every waking moment, and even in dreams when he caught snatches of sleep, the young black man could not get her out of his mind. She was only fifteen, and technically too young for him, but he cared deeply about her in a very pure way, and perhaps one day—if they made it through these dangers—they could be together in the manner he would like.
    As he walked around the encampment in the morning sun, feeling dismal, he wanted desperately to hear the melodic tones of Lori’s voice and to gaze into her gentle lavender eyes. But he had no idea where she was or if she was still alive.
    He saw his friends Liz Torrence and Siana Harui standing by a tent, with a guard talking to them sternly. Since leaving Monte Konos, Alex had not been able to speak to the two young women who’d been involved with him in trying to free the she-apostles, because they were being kept away from him by that tyrannical guard. The guard, a short redhead, seemed angry about something, and raised her voice. He couldn’t make out the words.
    * * *
    Fearing detection by BOI satellites, the effort to find the missing helicopter had been confined to half an hour. The pilot brought her report to Dixie Lou while she was questioning the she-apostles in front of her own tent through a translator, asking them about Candace’s ability to vanish, and about the missing twelfth she-apostle, Martha of Galilee. The children were not being cooperative, and Dixie Lou had slapped two of them, causing them to cry.
    “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” the pilot said, “but I thought you would want to know that there is no sign of the missing aircraft. It probably went down in the Mediterranean.”
    “A logical conclusion,” Dixie Lou said, “but they have the same stealth and ground camouflage systems we do, don’t they?”
    With a perplexed expression, the pilot nodded. “But why would they hide from us?”
    “I’ll ask the questions around here.”
    Dixie Lou didn’t put it past the troublesome, defiant Lori Vale to take over the helicopter and direct it to her own destination. When it came to that annoying teenager, nothing was simple or straightforward.
    All of the possibilities, when added to Dixie Lou’s other concerns, had been putting her in an edgy mood today. . . .
    * * *
    That afternoon, Dixie Lou saw a robed rider on a camel coming over the top of a rise of sand, moving briskly toward the camp. More people appeared afterward, on camels. She counted eight women, all dressed in long robes and veils, with a train of riderless camels behind them. They must be the Bedouin. A tall woman sat astride the animal in the front, using a whip to urge it on—Malia Ali Khan, she realized.
    Dixie Lou sent the children away, with their matrons and translators.
    “Still wearing those unsuitable robes, I see,” Malia said, as she jumped down onto the said. Her companions remained behind her, on their mounts.
    Peering over the top of her veil, the Arab woman showed her continuing disapproval of the coarse gray garments worn by these western women. The Arab women on the camels wore burnooses and veils. The two boys rode up behind them, but Dixie Lou noticed that they were unarmed this time.
    “I rather like my robe,” Dixie Lou said. “The air is cool this morning.”
    “At this time of year, you