The Celestine Prophecy: An Adventure by James Redfield Read Free Book Online

heart pounding. No one was there. I walked hurriedly down the sidewalk to the right trying to fade into the crowd. Why did Dobson run? I asked myself. Was he killed?
    “Wait a minute,” someone said in a loud whisper from behind my left shoulder. I started to run but he reached out and grabbed my arm. “Please wait a minute,” he said again. “I saw what happened. I’m trying to help you.”
    “Who are you?” I asked, trembling.
    “I’m Wilson James,” he said. “I’ll explain later. Right now we have to get off these streets.”
    Something about his voice and demeanor calmed my panic, so I decided to follow him. We walked up the street and into a leather goods store. He nodded to a man behind the counter and led me into a musty spare room in the back. He shut the door and closed the curtains.
    He was a man in his sixties, although he seemed much younger. A sparkle in his eyes or something. His skin was dark brown and his hair was black. He looked of Peruvian decent, but the English he spoke sounded almost American. He wore a bright blue t-shirt and jeans.
    “You’ll be safe here for a while,” he said. “Why are they chasing you?”
    I didn’t respond.
    “You’re here about the Manuscript, aren’t you?” he asked.
    “How did you know that?”
    “I guess the man with you was here for that reason, too?”
    “Yes. His name is Dobson. How did you know there were two of us?”
    “I have a room over the alley; I was looking out the window as they were chasing you.”
    “Did they shoot Dobson?” I asked, terrified by what I might hear in reply.
    “I don’t know,” he said. “I couldn’t tell. But once I saw you had escaped, I ran down the back steps to head you off. I thought perhaps I could help.”
    “Why?”
    For an instant he looked at me as though he was uncertain how to answer my question. Then his expression changed to one of warmth. “You won’t understand this, but I was standing there at the window and thoughts about an old friend came to me. He’s dead now. He died because he thought people should know about the Manuscript. When I saw what was happening in the alley, I felt I should help you.”
    He was right. I didn’t understand. But I had the feeling he was being absolutely truthful with me. I was about to ask another question when he spoke again.
    “We can talk about this later,” he said. “I think we’d better move to a safer place.”
    “Wait a minute, Wilson,” I said. “I just want to find a way back to the States. How can I do this?”
    “Call me Wil,” he replied. “I don’t think you should try the airport, not yet. If they’re still looking for you they will be checking there. I -have some friends who live out of town. They will hide you. There are several other ways out of the country you can choose. When you’re ready they will show you where to go.”
    He opened the door to the room and checked inside the shop, then walked outside and checked the street. When he returned, he motioned for me to follow. We walked down the street to a blue jeep that Wil pointed out. As we got in, I noticed that the back seat was carefully packed with food-stuffs and tents and satchels, as if for an extended trip.
    We rode in silence. I leaned back in the passenger seat and tried to think. My stomach was knotted with fear. I had never expected this. What if I had been arrested and thrown into a Peruvian jail, or killed outright? I had to size up my situation. I had no clothes, but I did have money and one credit card, and for some reason I trusted Wil.
    “What had you and—who was it, Dobson?—done to get those people after you?” Wil asked suddenly.
    “Nothing that I know of,” I replied. “I met Dobson on the plane. He’s an historian and he was coming down here to investigate the Manuscript officially. He represents a group of other scientists.”
    Wil looked surprised. “Did the government know he was coming?”
    “Yes, he had written certain government officials