Read the first three chapters of Walls.

Hear, O Israel, Phinehas wrote on a fresh scroll.

Yahweh our God, Yahweh is one! You shall love Yahweh your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your⁠—

He couldn’t remember the last clause.

With all your… he thought. With all your what?

Joy?

He wrote joy feebly onto the scroll with great uncertainty and continued to finish the rest of the Shema. The fact that Phinehas had written this down multiple times without memorizing it was concerning, especially regarding his future role as Kohen Gadol, the High Priest of Israel. Moses’s last words were crucial to remember because he was conveying what Elohim had told him. They were not suggestions or casual conversation. This was the Word of God.

Phinehas finished the rest of the passage and retrieved an official copy of Moses’s final speech for comparison.

Hear, O Israel: Yahweh our God, Yahweh is one! You shall love Yahweh your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your… strength.

Phinehas slammed his fist on the table before crumpling his profane papyrus and catapulting it across the tent in a fit of rage. He realized afterward how wasteful his reaction had been, but he had been studying the Torah for over a month. Ever since Moses left camp, he took it upon himself (save for the invisible pressure of his father) to memorize it all. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the speech, and he had messed up the most important part.

His lower jaw hung forward from his normal bite, and he scoffed at himself.

Aaron would be ashamed.

The reality was not the case; Aaron had led Israel into idolatry forty years prior with a golden calf, saying, “This is your god, O Israel, that brought you out of the land of Egypt!” Nobody remembered that part of the story unless they read Moses’s scrolls. Phinehas, however, revered his grandfather as a perfect man, and his great-uncle, Moses, was even more perfect!

That man surely never sinned… had he?

It didn’t matter. He had all the role models he needed to be the next great Levite. He knew that the events regarding him in those scrolls would ensure his name’s record for thousands of years; however, the most significant one within those scrolls had left demoralizing consequences on his life.

The memory plagued him, and he couldn’t dismiss it when it surfaced. Before he could regain control, his mind wandered back to it, recalling the events from a year earlier…

It was one of the cooler, dry months in Moab, a particularly cloudy day east of the Jordan. The light was dipping below the horizon when Moses came to Kohen Gadol Eleazar, Phinehas’s father, to address the plague. This was not a common cold or pox; this was something much more sinister. It was not a visible affliction from the outside, not one that could be seen unless the infected person was stripped of all clothing. The disease was disturbing, and it only seemed to target the sexually promiscuous. Hence the taboo. Moses and the Levites outright condemned any form of adultery, sodomy, or fornication. This was a shock to many of the Israelites who had multiple sexual partners outside of marriage. They had normalized monogamy, though polygamy was fairly common. Even Moses had two wives over his lifetime, but he was no adulterer, and at the time, he was far beyond the years when that was even possible. After the Exodus, Moses was more focused on saving his people, and on this particular occasion, it involved their prudence.

Phinehas was present for his father’s conversation with Moses. Eleazar was training him to become the future Kohen Gadol of Israel, so it was only right for him to sit in on affairs involving Tribe justice. Someday, he might have to carry out the law; that day may have come sooner than expected.

The leader of Israel showed a furrowed brow and a weary bearing. He held his head between two hands and gazed down at his feet so intently, it was as if something miraculous was happening between his toes. Phinehas saw the tear run down his cheek for only a moment in the fluttering torchlight before Moses wiped it away.

“Yahweh’s anger burns against the adulterers of this generation,” said Moses.

“What?” asked Eleazar, stunned. “Who among us has betrayed the Law of Adonai?”

“These stubborn people!” Moses said, standing up suddenly and fixing his gaze upon everyone in the tent. “It is as if they have no ears to hear and no heart to receive! They only take for themselves. How many times must I remind them to stay strong and courageous against the iniquities of the land?”

“Tell what has happened, my Lord,” said Eleazar.

“The Moabites among us have infected the impure with an untreatable ailment. These men and women have not adhered to Yahweh’s statutes and ordinances; for they have taken foreigners as wives and worshiped their gods.”

“They perform ritual harlotry with Moabites?”

Ritual harlotry, repeated Phinehas in his head.

The Torah strictly forbade holding pagan orgies dedicated to false idols. The intercourse was an offering to foreign images and went against the Torah through and through. Sex was to be had between a man and his wife. Phinehas recalled Moses’s writings about it from his adolescent education.

“There is no other possibility,” said Moses. “Elohim has revealed it to me in this way.”

Eleazar scratched his tangled gray chin. “Shall I prepare a burnt offering?”

Moses frowned. Tears flooded his eyes, their sorrowful glow evident as he shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid that will not do,” he said. “Gather the Elders and Judges from each Tribe. Bring them here.”

Eleazar bowed and then left the tent in a hurry. That left only two.

The horn sounded outside, and now they just had to wait.

Moses’s staff rattled the ground as he made his way toward Phinehas. The young man stood in the middle of the tent beside a large couch. Moses rested on it for a moment, sighing heavily as he descended into its cushions. He looked up at Phinehas and motioned for the priest to sit beside him. Phinehas obeyed, feeling his legs turn to jelly, but hid it as best he could.

“You know the plague that I speak of?” asked Moses.

He knows I do.

Phinehas recalled several Levites coming to him, hoping to confirm their ritual cleanliness. Unfortunately, after presenting their physical afflictions, he had to reject them. He sent them to other priests and healers for remedies, but they could not participate in rituals until the disease was cured. It was a gruesome ailment, and he suppressed a gag at the mere thought of it.

Phinehas puckered his lips, unsure what to say, but the words came eventually.

“The one reminiscent of leprosy: Sores on the genitalia that burst with pus and filth until the host dies for dealing unrighteously,” he said.

“Yes, my son.”

Phinehas nodded.

“Have you witnessed it?” asked Moses.

“You mean to ask if I have this affliction?”

“No, my boy, of course you don’t,” Moses chuckled before inching closer to Phinehas. “Do you know who has been playing the harlot?”

“I do not mean to gossip,” said Phinehas. “But there is word that a few of the infected are Levites… and, unfortunately, the rumors are true.”

Moses grumbled with grim understanding.

“Indeed, my Lord, it is truly disgraceful,” said Phinehas.

“Any friends of yours?”

“I-I think not. None that I know of, though I am not one to have many companions.”

“My boy,” Moses put a hand on his shoulder. “Friends are not just playmates or people to feast beside. Friends are those who stand by you when you make hard decisions, sojourn through dark days, and help you live to see the other side. My brother, your grandfather, was my friend. Your father is much like him; their similarities are beyond compare. This family—this blood is sacred. Anointed with grace that we did not earn, from a God who chose us.” Moses smiled with his eyes. “Be strong and of good courage, my boy. You have a great destiny in your path.”

Phinehas looked into the Elder’s large eyes. Within them, he saw… wonder. Glorious wonder and purpose, the likes of which he could not fathom. It was as if the reflection of God Himself sparkled within his irises. He felt peace at the look of grace, and then, through that gaze, the Spirit of the Lord cast a flame upon his soul. It was warm in those eyes, despite the pale blue. Phinehas smiled back with his own eyes, just as he imagined Adonai might.

“Thank you, my Lord,” said Phinehas.

“I am not the one you thank,” said Moses.

The tent flap opened to reveal a group of about twenty-four men, excluding Eleazar and Joshua. These were the leaders from each of the Tribes. Due to its massive population, the Tribe of Joseph, which had a double portion of the Abrahamic Covenant, split into the Tribes of Manasseh and Ephraim, Joseph’s two sons. So, excluding the Levites, there were Twelve Tribes of Israel.

Moses stood up with the help of his staff.

“Evening, gentlemen, welcome!”

Phinehas also joined him and walked beside him to greet the men. They all bowed in reverence, but Moses waved for them to halt. Phinehas admired his humility despite being the leader of millions.

“I am afraid I summoned you bearing bad news,” said Moses. “Yahweh has come to me greatly displeased. He weeps for his people, Israel. The Lord commands us to take matters into our own hands. We have grounds to accept this trial and restore justice to the camp.”

Moses frowned once more with a sigh.

“We are to kill the infected and expose them in broad daylight before Adonai, so that His fierce anger may turn away from Israel.”

Phinehas’s eyes widened, and a murmur made its way through the group of men.

“Preposterous! Kill our own brothers?” one of them said.

“Thus says Yahweh,” said Moses. “Each of you must put to death those of your people who have yoked themselves to Baal of Peor.”

Phinehas understood. Sexual relationships with the Moabites were turning people's hearts away from the one true God. They worshipped the false idol, Baal of Peor, in pursuit of pleasures and orgies. These illicit, extramarital sex rituals with the Moabites were causing the spread of the plague.

A man from the Tribe of Ephraim stepped forward, out from the group of Israelite Judges. Phinehas was quite familiar with the man, nicknamed “Desert Scourge” by their enemies, but he knew him as Joshua, son of Nun.

“Yes, my Lord, Moses,” he said, bending the knee, his head bowed, and clutching his walking staff, its tip digging into the floor. “We will do as the Lord of Hosts commands.”

Caleb joined Joshua in bending the knee, and one by one, the other men followed suit.

It’s a shame they only follow those two, thought Phinehas, looking between Caleb and Joshua.

A subtle fear arose deep within his gut that told him once the two Elders had passed, nobody in Israel would keep the people as one nation under God.

“Gather all the adulterers at once and bring them to the Tent of Meeting,” said Moses. “If you sense dishonesty, make them show proof.”

With a bow from each man, they all departed. Moses spoke to Eleazar for a few minutes before leaving as well. Eleazar moved to a desk in the middle of the tent and started jotting down some notes. Phinehas met him across the table and eyed him until his father looked up.

“Yes?” asked Eleazar, putting his stylus down.

“They won’t do it, Father,” said Phinehas.

“Do what?”

“Find them all. The infected.”

“And how do you know that?”

He hesitated to tell his father about the recurring dream he had been having over the past month. The dream scared him because it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like he was peering through time into the past—or possibly the future. The scene replayed itself in his head.

A tent. A spear. Blood.

He wasn’t supposed to be the one doing the unclean work, but he did…

And it involved the adulterers.

Phinehas bit his lip. “I-I’m not sure. I know they won’t. A piece is missing.”

“Hmm,” Eleazar picked up the stylus and wrote something else down. Then, when he noticed his son didn’t move, he looked back up. They locked eyes, and his father could see something within him. A fire burned… a spirit… the Spirit.

“Go. Seize the abominations.”

Curious.

Phinehas nodded with reverence, walked around the desk to the exit flap, and rushed out of the tent.

It did not take long for the Camp of Israel to erupt in shambles. The fires rose as the accused were dragged from their own dwellings. Men and women alike, Hebrew and Moabite alike, the suspects were tossed into the center of camp like a herd of cattle and locked in by Benjaminite shield walls. A few men jumped the soldiers in a futile attempt to escape, but they were met with a face full of wood or the butt of a sword. Shouts from confused families echoed around the scene, and soon Joshua appointed an additional layer of Benjaminites to face outward from the circle and prevent protesters from breaking the inner barrier.

The night dragged on, and more people were thrown into the ring. Bystanders watched their friends being taken and wept. It was as if they knew what was to come. The smell of disease grew stronger as the density of the infected increased. It had a rotten, horrid scent, like sour milk. The ring of soldiers did not expand with the influx but contracted, leaving the captives with little room to breathe.

Phinehas watched from afar, as he had all night. The circumstances were sinister, compounded by public humiliation. He sensed it would not be long before the executions began. A message was meant to be sent, and it would surely be received. Phinehas’s heart went out to those affected, but he understood that the Law was vital and an example had to be made. These people had done evil in the sight of Adonai by worshipping false gods and defiling themselves with pagan foreigners. They had disobeyed and were to be judged accordingly. No more chances. They could have stopped along the way, but instead indulged their flesh. If Israel was to be a light to the world, it had to be refined, and sometimes the hardest choices required the strongest wills.

Ritual horns blew.

Phinehas looked across the crowd to the Tent of Meeting and saw Moses ascending a small wooden stage where he typically gave proclamations. Joshua stood beside him, and Caleb stood beside Joshua. Eleazar was on the other side of Moses, arms folded across his chest plate with twelve multicolored gems. Levitical priests crowded behind them, and the rest of the congregation was present. All of Israel gathered, awaiting what their leader had to say. Their faces flickered in the light of scattered fires around the camp. The weeping was muffled, but did not stop… it would not stop for the rest of the night.

“Our God, Yahweh, the true and living God, sees what goes on behind closed doors,” boomed Moses. “You cannot hide from His vision, nor can you stop His plans. We, the children of Jacob, have been given the ultimate gift of sanctity, a place to meet with the Creator of the universe,” Moses gestured to the Tabernacle. “Despite this great honor, this lot of infidels would rather take part in idolatry and sexual immorality than worship Adonai. The Chosen People have chosen wrong. You have played the harlot against the One who loves you more than anyone on the face of the earth. You have done evil, and therefore, you will be punished, banished to Sheol until the end of days.”

Moses wept. “I am sorry, my brethren. Truly sorry.”

And he meant it.

“Strip your garments so all of the children of Israel can see your sin.”

Joshua ordered his legion into the ring. Each soldier grabbed hold of the nearest person and ripped their clothes to expose the infected area. Many of them felt embarrassed and tried to cover themselves with their hands; others did nothing and stood as still as statues. The stench amplified from the assembly. Joshua’s legion of Ephraimites stepped out, and the circle reformed its barriers.

Moses looked down at them, his chin quivered, and tears streamed down his face. He wiped his eyes with his left hand, then held his right hand high above his head.

He waved, causing the Benjaminites to mount spears on their shields and press inward. One step at a time, uniformly across the ring, feet shook the ground. Cries erupted both inside and out. Blood poured from stabs, and bones snapped from the pressure. The men in the middle could not breathe; half of them did not die by the tip of the spear, but by suffocation. Some desperate men pushed their brothers into the spears to make room for themselves, but it was futile. Others were smart enough to dodge the spearheads and slip between soldiers, but they were quickly met with a sword from the back line.

There was no escape.

This was their final orgy.

Phinehas watched as thousands died. Some faces he recognized; most he did not. He did not protest, nor did he cry; he simply stared down at the judgment of the wicked. Phinehas had witnessed mass death before, but this was brutal. The slaughter of Israelites at the hands of Israelites.

For the greater good.

Within minutes, the crowd of people turned into a pile of naked bodies. Some with limbs twisted and shattered, others with cuts through their torsos, but all of them had the infected waste of tissue bubbling from their groins.

Orders were being shouted above the sound of mothers weeping and husbands who had only just found out their wives had been unfaithful. Bodies were dragged away to be tossed into a fire outside of camp, their limbs creating tracks in the sand leading to their final destination on earth.

Phinehas remained in the same place, watching everything. His senses were acute, and he took note of every hint of minutiae. A light breeze forced the putrid smell into his nostrils, and so he finally looked away.

That’s when he saw them.

A man held a woman’s hand as she ran behind him through the chaos, directly in front of Moses himself. Somehow, he didn't see. Others were not running, not even the soldiers or sobbing loved ones, only this couple.

Running from what? thought Phinehas.

Phinehas trailed behind them and passed by a spear stuck in the dirt. He paused, contemplating whether to pick it up. Obeying his instincts, he reached down, pulled the tip free from the soil, and tucked it under his arm. He quietly followed the couple to the camp’s edge until the man opened a tent flap and the woman hurried inside, after which the man followed shortly. Phinehas sneaked around a corner, searching for movement in their dwelling and assessing the situation. Carefully approaching the tent’s exterior, he paused when he overheard their voices.

“Only grab essentials. We cannot take much without drawing eyes,” said the man.

Phinehas peered through a hole in the fabric, but his nose understood before his eyes. He winced and scrunched his face.

That smell, he thought. Sour milk. The stench of the infection.

He gripped the spear as if to lob it and walked around to the tent’s opening. He opened the flap and stood to block their way out. The woman was in a state of undress, and he could see the sores, confirming his suspicion.

The man noticed Phinehas before she did. He raised a palm and stepped in the way, shielding her.

“Don’t,” he said. “Please, don’t do this.”

Phinehas said nothing and only raised his spear, its tip directed toward them.

The woman realized what was going on, sat on the ground, and covered her affliction with a loose garment. She began to weep.

The man took a step toward Phinehas.

“You don’t want to do this.”

He inched closer.

Phinehas’s eyes were bloodshot, and his heart felt like it would explode. He had never killed, not once. The law said, “Thou shalt not murder,” but was this murder? His chin quivered just as Moses’s had as he gave the order just before….

“We can talk this through.”

He inched closer.

“She knows the most beautiful women in all of Midian. You can join us and have a life among them.”

He inched closer.

“You can lie with any of them—you can lie with HER! They will love you!”

This is not murder, thought Phinehas.

The fire burned within him.

This is justice.

He kicked the man back, and the adulterer fell on top of the woman. With the swiftness of a commanding Judahite, he cast the spear straight through the man’s chest and into the woman’s abdomen. Blood spewed from the man’s mouth, and the woman shrieked in agony. Her cries pierced the air, but Phinehas stood still as if time ceased to exist.

Justice.

Then the fire was extinguished.

“The man Phinehas killed was named Zimri, a member of the Tribe of Simeon,” said Joshua. “The woman was a Midianite named Kozbi, the daughter of one of their head chiefs, Zur.”

Moses nodded his head. “Approach, my boy.”

Phinehas walked up to him, his head bowed to the ground. Moses spun him around to face the congregation of Elders and laid a hand on his shoulder. He breathed in through his nose with great effort, then exhaled, before opening his mouth to speak. His eyes were closed, his mind rummaging behind the lids, examining within.

“Thus says Yahweh,” he began, “Phinehas, son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, the priest, has turned My anger away from the Israelites. Since he was as zealous for My honor among them as I am, I did not put an end to them in My zeal. Therefore, tell him I am making My covenant of peace with him. He and his descendants will have a covenant of lasting priesthood, because he was zealous for the honor of his God and made atonement for the Israelites.”

The Elders shouted with praise and applause. They had fulfilled God’s commands because of Phinehas and chanted his name. They championed the young priest and gave him a new title:

Phinehas the Zealot.

It was over.

The memory left him, and Phinehas cupped his face, shaking his head to forget the source of his infamy. It was the blood dripping from the spear that sent shivers down his spine. He was used to animal blood, but this was human.

He pulled out a new sheet of papyrus and dipped his pen in ink, therapeutically.

Hear, O Israel: Yahweh our God, Yahweh is one! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.

He rested his pen resolutely on the table after finishing the verse. He knew without looking at the reference copy that it was correct.

Then the all-too-familiar horn sounded, coming from the Tent of Meeting.