And in the Days After...

The Search Begins

Wassup, guys? Hope you're liking my story so far. Just a heads up, I changed a bit of the last chapter, "Find Him!" right at the end where Caiphas talks to the two roman soldiers, so I suggest you go back and read that part otherwise this part won't make sense. I didn't change much, just adding in a note here and there so the story is better (I hope). So please enjoy this chapter and review! God bless! Suggestions appreciated!

The Search Begins

Philip cautiously walked through Jerusalem, his cloak grasped in his hand, covering half of his face. He dare not walk through Jerusalem without at least half of his face hidden. The Romans prowled about, eyeing each and every person. Whenever they glanced his way, he quickly turned his head and pretended to be pre-occupied with a merchant.

When Jesus was alive, Philip didn't care what others thought about him. He would have shouted out mercy and goodness to everyone, just to see the smile on Jesus' face as he spread the Good News. He loved how proud Jesus was of him. He felt like a genuine Apostle of Jesus then, because Jesus made him feel that way.

But now, Jesus wasn't here to make him have such emotions, and he had no intention of showing his face to everyone and getting arrested by the Romans. He wasn't even there when Jesus had died, so scared was he. But Peter and John had filled them in on all that had happened. Jesus had suffered. And he had died.

But risen. Philip scoffed. Ha! He wasn't one to doubt—he really wasn't. He believed Jesus could do anything and everything. Feed the five thousand? Sure. Walk on water? Why not. Cure the sick? Easy. But all those things Jesus had done when he was alive. Philip knew he'd come to this world to change the hearts of many, and he'd fulfilled his mission. Philip didn't know why he had to die at such a young age, though, since surely he could have converted many more people. Maybe that wasn't God's intention. Maybe God the Father hadn't intended his Son to die. Maybe all of that had just been an accident—a mishap.

Nevertheless, Jesus was dead, and it was quite ridiculous for anyone to even think he was alive again. It wasn't like Philip could rise from the dead whenever he wanted to. Jesus couldn't either. Sure, he could raise others from the dead—Lazarus, the little girl—but raise himself? How could he? He was the one dead! God or not.

Philip picked his way through the crowd, taking care to keep his face covered. It was his turn to purchase food. He just needed to grab some bread and then hurry back into hiding.

A commotion erupted a ways up before him.

"Get out of my way!"

"Move it!"

Philip was slammed up against a house as the crowd continued to press against him. He winced at the pain, and wiggled into a more comfortable position as he stood on his toes, trying to see over the heads of many.

A Roman soldier on a brown horse came charging through the streets, nearly trampling a young child. The mother screamed and reached for her daughter as the horse came running through, barely missing the little girl's hand. The soldier atop the animal did not care. Instead, he pulled his horse to a stop and eyed the fifty, including Philip. Philip pulled his cloak farther over his face.

"Attention people of Jerusalem!"

The crowd hushed.

"It appears that earlier this morning, the crucified body of Jesus the Nazorean was stolen. Anyone who has news must report to me. If you have taken that criminal's body, I suggest turning yourself in or else your punishment will be far more severe the longer you keep quiet. We will be searching your homes."

"But, Sir!" someone called out. "It's holy Passover!"

The soldier smirked. "Then anyone guilty of hiding this criminal's body will surely be cast into the fires of hell."