Prophecy of Zechariah

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Chapter 1

Over the eastern horizon, the morning sun breaks, shining its warm, life-giving rays at the Peak of Shlomo Mountain, which rises 667 meters above the light brown desert just outside the southernmost city in Israel, Eilat. From the southeastern peak, a spectator has the grand view of the Gulf of Aqaba leading to the Red Sea. Bordered by Egypt to the west and Jordan to the east, the small city of forty-five thousand, once just a small military outpost, has become a tourist destination because of its amazing beaches and beautiful marine reefs. 

This little metropolis is full of attractions and beachside hotels, with young Jewish and European beauties basking on the sun-drenched shores. Yet, Eilat is a town that does not suffer from the social and economic problems of larger cities such as Jerusalem or Tel Aviv. Nor does it suffer from the terrorism threat that plagues the Middle East. Instead, Eilat was born out of the area’s richness of heavy copper resources and other valuable minerals… a true hidden gem rising out of the empty desert of Southern Israel.

Just outside the city limits, you can find the barren nothingness of the Negev Desert and its thousands of years of human history, dating as far back as 8000 BC. In the sands, there are many ancient sites yet to be unearthed. Even in modern times, less than ten percent of the desert and surrounding mountains have been surveyed for archaeological interests.

There are countless tombs of unknown origins carved into the mountainsides, with a myriad of catacombs dug deep underground where Jewish, Christian, and Islamic rites and burials once took place. Erosion-shaped Limestone caves hide the ghosts of an era of Nomadic life that once littered the entire expanse of the region. Volumes of history are awaiting discovery in this sunbaked and wind-ravaged landscape. 

At a little café just off the beach sits a man with a glass of iced coffee, his name is Andrew Maugham, pronounced Maug-ham due to his Irish roots, causing him to constantly correct those who insist on using the ghastly French pronunciation. Mr. Maugham hails from Somerset, Massachusetts, but now calls New Orleans, Louisiana home. 

Standing at just less than six feet tall, he has a slender light-skinned Irish build, with full dark hair cut short and very pronounced green eyes. Covering his squared-off jaw is close to three days of growth. His profession can best be described as a freelance collector and antiquities broker. At the age of thirty, he earns a healthy salary traveling to far-off places collecting antiques for the wealthy of society. However, his trip to Eilat falls under business and not pleasure. 

Even the visit to this café is business, as he awaits the arrival of a private tour guide recommended to him by his sponsor. Without a face-to-face meeting and just a brief phone call, he offered a substantial sum of money to the guide, just to take him to the Westside of Shlomo Mountain and the possibility of translating any Hebrew writing that might be uncovered. The only caveat to his offer is the guide’s covenant never to disclose any conversations between them or articles retrieved from the excursion.  

At about eight in the morning, just as he ordered a second glass of iced coffee and small onion bagel, a stranger of equal height and build but darker in complexion took a seat at the table with him and said, “Mr. Maugham? I’m David Levine… your guide.” 

“David, it’s nice to meet you, as you come highly recommended. So, tell me a little bit about yourself… like, do you have any experience in spelunking?” 

“First, call me David, and second, I’ve taken tours out to different caves all throughout the area.”

Andrew smiled and nodded, “Excellent… because touring an ancient cavern is our mission. Are you any good at reading ancient texts, like Hebrew and Greek?” 

David replied, “Of course, my degree from the University of Tel Aviv is in Early Israeli History. Some of the course work was translating ancient text into modern-day language. I’ll admit they were boring classes, and I didn’t receive the best grades… but I can still translate them.”

Andrew replied, “Outstanding. Now David… I cannot stress to you how important secrecy is regarding this journey. The details of the trip will be discussed in the privacy of your vehicle en route to our destination. So, for now, let me finish my glass of coffee, and if you would like a glass… have one on me.”

Chapter 2

At 8:30 am, they packed into David’s older model four-wheel-drive Jeep and headed out to the Number 12, the fastest path from the city to the mountain. This highway runs through a sparse industrial area just outside of the town. 

Pulling a topographical map from his knapsack, Andrew pointed to the destination 562 meters up the Westside ridge, three-quarters of the distance from the mountain's south side. The road, however, at the point closest to the ridge is only 490 meters, requiring the men to hike the last 72 meters up the side of the barren mountain. This was the main reason for the early departure. 

Andrew hoped to reach the point of entry into the cavern from the road before the sun broke the mountain’s west side. The temperatures here have been known to reach 100 degrees in the shade this time of year, and the temperatures under the full sun can feel like the depths of hell. If they were not under cover by then, the expedition would have to be postponed until the following morning for safety reasons. This would be the last thing that Andrew wanted, as time was of the essence. 

Another important reason to stay in the morning shade comes from a lesser threat than heatstroke. This threat affects anyone suffering from even the slightest case of arachnophobia, such as Andrew, the possibility of giant camel spiders known to inhabit the desert landscape. 

These vicious arachnids are known to chase anything that could be deemed food or appear to offer shelter from the overpowering rays of the desert sun. These little non-venomous beasts, more scorpion than spider that can grow to the size of dinner plates, can be found from the southwest deserts of the United States to the barren landscapes of North Africa and throughout the Middle East. Although they may be an extremely rare inhabitant here, they are still here. 

Andrew remembers serving two tours of duty in the US Army fighting terrorism in the Middle East back in his early twenties. He had heard the myths of this infamous fiend from the soldiers who served during the first and second Gulf Wars and merciless drill instructors at basic training. Myths that say the spiders have a terrifying screech as they chase down their prey at thirty miles an hour. 

Another urban legend is that the spiders can jump four feet high in a single leap. During his time in Iraq, he encountered a massive eight-legged monster crawling up his arm that had slipped off his rack while attempting to sleep. The creature's abdomen rested on the top of his hand while the powerful pincers and the oedipal front legs stretched halfway up his forearm. The hair from the other six enormous legs of his adversary wrapped his arm, tickling him awake from his slumber. 

Jarred from sleep, he discovered his dyer situation and, out of instinct alone, began thrusting his arm madly batting the mammoth spider across the room onto another soldier before the beast could plunge its massive incisors into his hand. Fortunately, the unlucky private in the trajectory of the flung spider batted it to the ground and ended its reign of terror with his size ten boot. 

To this day, Andrew takes extra precautions to keep his wandering hands at bay while he sleeps. Still, the main reason to stay in the shade for those disbelievers of the camel spider’s voracious reputation is the very real possibility of dehydration.

“Mr. Maugham,” David asked, “So, what are we looking for?” 

Andrew looked over and said, “I’m confident in your knowledge of The Old Testament and the prophets. So, I’m also sure you’ve studied the Book of Zechariah… but most likely not the man because of his life's lack of evidence. He was one of the prophets and a high priest who lived in this region around 515 BC. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot known about the man other than he lived in the time of Darius the Great’s reign. 

It’s been debated that Zechariah began his ministry telling that God shall live once again with His people in Jerusalem after they were taken hostage in Babylon. Zechariah was the first to prophesize the Four Horsemen and the first to foretell a final conflict where the triumph of God shall occur. Throughout the centuries, some theologians have debated that John’s vision was inspired not by Daniel’s teachings but by Zechariah’s. 

He disappeared en route from Jerusalem to Egypt. Some argue that he vanished while seeking shelter in this area. However, my sponsor back in the states is a well-versed and well-funded biblical scholar who staunchly believes that there’s a cavern hidden at this location. Within its walls, it holds the secret of Zechariah’s disappearance and the final tomb of the prophet himself. 

He also believes that Zechariah’s original writings, which are thought to have been lost to the annals of time, are located in this cave as well… including the first drafts of the fourteen chapters found in The Old Testament written sometime between the years of 520 to 518 BC. If, in fact, they do exist, my sponsor wants those writings for his own personal library.” 

David asked, “Wait, Mr. Maugham, so what you’re telling me is that you want me to assist you in searching a cave for a biblical prophet who possibly isn’t there, and if on the slight chance of finding the prophet we are going to desecrate his tomb by stealing his property?”

Andrew smirked, “In a single word, Yes!”

David smiled back, “Well, you’re the boss.”

In the shadow of the mountain, they turned off the paved roadway and onto a dry riverbed. Proceeding forward with a cloud of dust to the rear, they drove over thorny dead brush for the last few miles. David slowed the speed of his Jeep to below ten miles per hour due to the rough terrain the vehicle was forced to transverse. The vehicle slalomed around boulders that littered the pathway cut by a once-mighty river. Above the sound of the vehicle’s exhaust, the noise of crumbling snail shells rang out. Not only did a mighty river once run here, but also, at one point according to history, this entire area had been buried under an ocean of rushing water that deposited the fossils. 

David turned to Andrew, commenting, “With the sounds of pummeling these shells, you could never sneak up on anyone.” Then, he closed with a question, “Mr. Maugham, were you aware that this mountain was carved when the Red Sea rose above its shores in a great flood?” 

In yet another single-word reply, Andrew stated, “No.” 

At the quick pace to this point, Andrew thought, they should be able to reach their summit before the sun’s rays crest the peak of the mountain, creating a hellishly hot environment. 

After what seemed an eternity due to the earsplitting final demise of the fossilized shells, the vehicle stopped. Andrew hopped out of the vehicle, followed by David. Raising his hand to his eyes to assist their adjustment to the bright sky, Andrew scanned the ridge from side to side and top to bottom. His mouth dropped open, and his face turned as white as sea foam washing along the beaches of Eilat. “David!” He proclaimed while pointing to the ridge, “Look right beyond that rocky outcropping, do you see it? There is a dark shadow in the sidewall. This must be the entry.” 

Taken aback, they both fell silent enough to hear their hearts race. They gazed upon a doorway, a doorway yet to be explored. What treasures lie in wait, or what horrors shall be unleashed. David was astonished because he believed this would be a wild goose chase, although he would never admit it to Andrew. Yet, even the seasoned explorer that Andrew was, he was still surprised by their discovery. Finally, Andrew turned to David, “Open the rear hatch and grab our gear.”

Inspecting the gear, he had to make sure David obtained everything asked for. Andrew was extremely meticulous and never left anything to chance when he journeyed into an unexplored cave system. For fear of possible separation in the catacombs, he required two backpacks containing the same items. Each had two liters of distilled water, two new 4D-cell flashlights, four Israeli Army MRE’s, two packs of a dozen chem-lights, two boxes of waterproof matches, one container of lighter fluid, one flare gun, one pickaxe, 100 feet of nylon rope with ten cams, ten carabiners, sone pack of white chalk, one box of superglue and one first aid kit. Other choice items included toilet paper and thin metallic thermal blankets. His list may have seemed excessive, but his military training taught him safety first when entering the unknown. 

After his final inspection and feeling secure that they had all the supplies needed, they suited up with their heavy packs and started their trek up the face of the mountain. The hike was not generally considered dangerous as the face was only forty-five degrees or so. Still, one careless step could cause a painful fall and possible broken bones. A broken arm or leg would jeopardize the mission, and that was unacceptable. 

Taking the lead, Andrew set a conservative pace up the mountain. He took slow, purposeful steps to keep from kicking up dust or turning over small rocks, the bottoms of which served as homes to scorpions and other nasty little creatures. The sun had still not peaked overhead, yet the temperature was on a constant course of upward momentum. The men had to stay as cool as possible because the temperature would drop dramatically inside the caverns, with excess perspiration only exacerbating the colder conditions. 

As they closed in on the cave’s entrance, it became apparent that this tunnel was deep and not just a surface scar. Finally, they were close enough to feel a rush of cool air escaping from the mouth of the mountain. In less than an hour of silent upward motion, they reached the entry. 

Andrew then reached into his pack and retrieved a flashlight and one chem-light. Over the singing of the mountain’s breath, he explained, “We need to save the battery life of our flashlights. So, take one four-hour chem-light at a time to light your way. We’ll only use the flashlights when entering any unknown chambers.” With that said, they entered into the awaiting, unwelcoming darkness. 

Chapter 3

Raising his flashlight and lighting the tunnel, Andrew estimated it was no more than five and a half feet at its widest point and seemed to be without end. In the eerie green haze of the chem-lights, they proceeded forward in a crouched position. With bent knees and contorted backs, the process of descent was slow. 

To their rear, the light of day seemed to become dimmer as their front grew darker. The cold jagged walls seemed to show displeasure with the intruders, so displeased, the walls constantly made their ancient presence known by heavily brushing back at them. This was a place completely void of all life except for the two brave explorers. 

Further, they descended into absolute blackness, knowing that if there were a cave-in, they would be lost to the annals of time due to the secrecy of this mission and would have no possible chance of rescue. Trudging down close to five hundred yards at a fifteen-degree decline, Andrew flashed the brighter flashlight into the darkness again. There appeared to be no end in sight to this pathway. Outside, the light of day had vanished entirely behind them, as the walls closed in, even more, seeming as though they had a life of their own. 

Finally, after about another three hundred yards, a separate pathway appeared out of the darkness. This smaller and darker cavern veered to the right with seemingly no end. The small dim chem-lights were no match for the utter blackness of the cavernous tomb. 

Reaching into his pack again, Andrew pulled out a stick of chalk from the unopened box. Breaking the stick in half, he placed half back in the box. At the entry of the next tunnel, he wrote “exit 1000 yd back” and drew an arrow both above and below his notation. After his first mark, he marked a separate arrow every hundred feet leading back towards salvation, just in case of disorientation. 

After another painstaking eight hundred yards of descent into the next catacomb, they discovered their first chamber. With a breath of relief, Andrew entered a three-foot crawl space leading to an opening where his brightly lit flashlight was met with nothing more than a few stalagmites and stalactites lining the floor and ceiling of the small limestone cavity. Then, reversing his crawl, he exited and took the chalk from his pocket, placing a large “X” on the cavern wall before its entry. 

At this point, the chem-lights four-hour glow was dimming to the point where you could not see your hand in front of your face. Shaking two more chem-lights into existence, they pressed on through the dark and narrow corridor. After another three hundred yards deeper into the belly of the beast, the path narrowed to nothing more than an air duct.

Andrew’s directive to David was to take off their packs, tie them to the nylon ropes, and pull them through behind them. After a bit of arguing, he took the lead. Forcing his shoulders into the opening, with his arms crossed in front of him, he moved slowly, hand over hand, pulling his body forward a few inches at a time. His head was just barely clearing the claustrophobic ceiling with constant manipulation, dragging his legs behind him like nothing more than useless baggage. David followed suit with fear burning in his eyes as he forced his upper torso into the small hole. Then, with the fresh chem-light in his left hand, he moved hand over hand as well. 

David falling behind, and in a shallow voice, asked, “Hey Maugham, why do you think a man the age of the prophet would climb down this abyss?” 

Andrew responded, “I have no idea, but I must be sure… my life and reputation are on the line here.” 

Then, under his breath, David remarked, “Something horrific must have terrified him to force him into hell itself.”

Further down, they inched their bodies through the rabbit hole. After they spent nine months forcing their way out of this type of environment, some thirty years ago, they now forced their way back in. Close to a suffocating hour had passed since the start of this slow crawl. Having to force each movement, coercing just to push your shoulder forward an inch at a time… was pure madness. 

It seemed as though the rocks threatened to squeeze the life out of anyone attempting to pass through the tunnel. If one was to become trapped and unable to move, there could be no rescue. In addition, if one were to get stuck, the other explorer would most certainly suffer the same fate with the only known exit completely cut off. Alternatively, if the mountain pleased, it could crush you into oblivion, erasing all evidence of your existence. 

Then, a spark of salvation from the crushing death, as the tunnel opened into a wider chamber with a height of such soaring magnitude the beam of the flashlight could not reach its peak. 

Once again, turning to his flashlight for a better view of the empty heart of the mountain, Andrew scanned the entirety of the chamber. At the highest part of the ceiling, he noticed sunlight breaking through a tiny opening, as if the room had its own chimney. Then, turning back to the ground around him, he witnessed something that had all his hopes and expectations come true. In the corner, to his left, was a mummified corpse wearing an ancient robe. David looked on with great astonishment as Andrew seemed to have leapt to the side of the corpse who laid face down. 

Falling to his knees, Andrew carefully turned the dead body onto its back. The long-dead elder with long white hair and beard clutched what appeared to be a parchment within his hands. If this was the decaying corpse of the prophet, it is far from the romantic image of Zachariah depicted on the magnificent ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. 

David knelt beside the corpse and painstakingly freed the papers without disturbing the slumber of the ancient. Then, handing the find to Andrew, who carefully unrolled the parchment pages, fourteen in all, which had been perfectly preserved in the dry air. On the first sheet, Andrew looked upon Hebrew text.

‏ בַּחֹ֙דֶשׁ֙ הַשְּׁמִינִ֔י בִּשְׁנַ֥ת שְׁתַּ֖יִם לְדָרְיָ֑וֶשׁ הָיָ֣ה דְבַר־יְהוָ֗ה אֶל־זְכַרְיָה֙ בֶּן־בֶּ֣רֶכְיָ֔ה בֶּן־עִדּ֥וֹ הַנָּבִ֖יא לֵאמֹֽר׃

צַ֧ף יְהוָ֛ה עַל־אֲבֽוֹתֵיכֶ֖ם קָֽצֶף׃

וְאָמַרְתָּ֣ אֲלֵהֶ֗ם כֹּ֤ה אָמַר֙ יְהוָ֣ה צְבָא֔וֹת שׁ֣וּבוּ אֵלַ֔י נְאֻ֖ם יְהוָ֣ה צְבָא֑וֹת וְאָשׁ֣וּב אֲלֵיכֶ֔ם אָמַ֖ר יְהוָ֥ה צְבָאֽוֹת׃

אַל־תִּהְי֣וּ כַאֲבֹֽתֵיכֶ֡ם אֲשֶׁ֣ר קָרְאֽוּ־אֲלֵיהֶם֩ הַנְּבִיאִ֨ים הָרִֽאשֹׁנִ֜ים לֵאמֹ֗ר כֹּ֤ה אָמַר֙ יְהוָ֣ה צְבָא֔וֹת שׁ֤וּבוּ נָא֙ מִדַּרְכֵיכֶ֣ם הָרָעִ֔ים ומעליליכם וּמַֽעַלְלֵיכֶ֖םm הָֽרָעִ֑ים וְלֹ֥א שָׁמְע֛וּ וְלֹֽא־הִקְשִׁ֥יבוּ אֵלַ֖י נְאֻם־יְהוָֽה׃

Under the green glow, Andrew said, “Well, David, this is why I hired you… tell me what it says?” 

“In thy eighth month, in the second year of Darius, came the word of thy Lord unto Zechariah, the son of Berechiah, the son of Iddo the prophet, saying, Thy LORD hath been sore displeased with your fathers. Therefore, say thou unto them, thus saith thy LORD of hosts. Turn ye unto me, saith thy LORD of hosts, and I will turn unto you, saith thy LORD of hosts. Be ye not as your fathers, unto whom the former prophets have cried, saying, thus saith thy LORD of hosts. Turn ye now from your evil ways, and from your evil doings: but they did not hear, nor hearken unto me, saith thy LORD.”

Andrew leapt to his feet and said, “That’s the first four verses from the Book of Zechariah. We found him!”

Realizing that he held the second oldest biblical text ever discovered in his hand, the first being a small silver scroll containing a Psalms verse found in Jerusalem. These documents predated the Dead Sea Scrolls by two hundred years. Not only the leather’s age, but the fact that the text was written in Hebrew seemed too impossible to be true. Authors of this period typically penned their documents in Greek. The possibility of having a Hebrew script dating back this far is just as rare as being struck by lightning on a clear day along the shores of the Dead Sea. Nevertheless, the precious group of papers he held in his hand had the power to change the course of biblical history forever. 

Then, for a moment, they stood above the body in silence. But, upon further examination, David noticed something out of place. Kneeling back to the body, he lifted the beard from Zechariah’s neck. What is this? He thought, could it just be decomposition or something more malevolent. 

Calling Andrew down with a hand gesture, he pointed to a piercing in the right side of Zechariah’s throat. Andrew glanced around swiftly to see if possibly the man ended his days by tripping on a rock and falling onto something sharp enough to cut flesh. However, this quick investigation revealed nothing that could cause the damage they witnessed. Discounting the wound, Andrew believed it occurred after the death. Considering hundreds of possibilities and thousands of years that had passed, he knew there were countless ways the neck could have been opened.

Looking down at his watch that read 8:45 pm, Andrew said, “Well, I think we should set up camp for the evening. I can’t speak for you, but I’m not ready to head back through that tight passage just yet. I prefer to have a ceiling where we can stand upright for a while. We have all the supplies we need, and we can burn the body for warmth.” 

They then pulled the gear through the small tunnel. Once the equipment was in their grasp, Andrew reached into his pack for a thermal blanket. Opening the blanket, he brought it to Zechariah, calling David over, and the men vigilantly rolled the body onto the metallic shroud. Then, they carried him to the center of the room. 

Once at the center, they set the body down. Then, reaching into his pack, David grabbed his bottle of lighter fluid to commence the informal funeral. The danger of asphyxiation seemed minimal due to the small opening at the top of a ceiling that seemed to stretch to Heaven in height. However, the risk of freezing in the cold chamber was more eminent. Andrew then drenched the corpse with the lighter fluid as David spoke the words of Psalm 23, “The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want,”  

Andrew turned to David and said, “Cut that shit out.”

David looked back and replied, “What… I thought you’d like that?”

Andrew smiled, “Not this cowboy.”

Andrew then lit a match, and instantly the body was engulfed in a brilliant flame. For over twenty-five hundred years, Zechariah lay in his dark tomb without receiving any form of burial. 

After honoring the prophet for a few moments, they pulled out the extra blankets and several unused chem-lights, and with their packs supporting their heads, they laid down by the fire. With the downward journey taking over eight hours, the upward climb would surely take longer. So, exhausted and suffering from fatigue from their dark descent into the earth, they bedded down for the night after enjoying a quick prepackaged meal. The knowledge that tomorrow they would again stand under the sun’s life-giving rays gave them comfort.