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Authors: H. G. Nadel

BOOK: Eternal
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Bertel shook his head. “Can we go someplace private to talk first? Maybe look at some of the things in my office? Anything that might jog my memory. If I can just remember why I might be in danger, then I’ll feel safe to call the police.”

“You told me that our research was dangerous.”

“Is it? I can’t remember. I can’t remember anything! Please, Julia, help me!” She would have found Bertel’s desperate plea upsetting even if she weren’t already frightened.

“Long-term amnesia isn’t common, Dr. Bertel. You’ll remember,” Julia reassured. “Just think. You’ll have first-hand experience about what it’s like to come back from the dead.”

“What are you talking about?” He looked more than confused. He looked panicked.

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come on. We’ll talk.”

She started to walk him toward the elevator, until she heard footsteps clacking against the tile floor. The security guard was coming, so she made one last-ditch effort.

“Let’s go get the security guard, Dr. Bertel. He can help us get to the hospital.”

“No!” Bertel said with uncharacteristic ferocity. So Julia acquiesced. They slipped into the stairwell and started down, both of them taking care not to make too much noise. Funny how the security guard that had seemed so comforting to her a few minutes ago now seemed like a threat. Funny how she now felt like a criminal.

T
WELVE
 

J
ulia and Dr. Bertel tiptoed from his lab into his office, and Julia quietly pulled the door shut behind them. As he slumped into his chair, it struck her that he looked older. It wasn’t just the charred black and peeling red wounds scattered across his forehead, cheek, and neck. Something about him felt sort of—dead. Maybe it was that vacant look in his eyes. When he wasn’t talking, his eyes looked like those of someone suffering from catatonia.

Julia sat in the chair across from him but perched on the edge, ready to jump up at the first sign of trouble. She had no real idea what kind of trouble to expect, but the circumstances warranted caution.

“Julia, how long have we been working together?” Bertel asked.

“Just a couple of months.”

“Was the work we were doing … controversial?”

“You could say that. I think—” she shifted in her chair. “I think it was the same research that got you fired from the FBI.”

“The paper mentioned my book on demonic possession. Is that what we were working on?”

“Not exactly. We were trying to find physical evidence of the human soul. We thought that maybe the evidence was in the brain. We were using various drugs to see if we could induce the soul to return to the brain after death. We recently had a breakthrough—a very brief, very small chemical reaction in the brain.”

Bertel twitched violently and suddenly, but he quickly regained his composure. He grinned, and the effect of his bright white teeth against his partially ruined face was ghastly. He scratched the bridge of his nose with his index finger, and Julia noticed that his hand was trembling, the way hers sometimes did after too much caffeine. He caught the direction of her gaze and lowered his hand to the desk, where his fingers continued to vibrate against the dark veneer. He darted a look to the right, where a file cabinet drawer sat partially open. His eyebrows rose before he swallowed and turned back to her. There was a new, hungry look in his eye, and it made Julia’s skin crawl. She wondered if she could find a way to text Austin without Bertel noticing.

His voice grew terse. “What kind of drugs caused this change in the brain?”

She was afraid of how he might react if she didn’t answer, but she dared not give too many specifics. “Mainly PCP.”
There.
He couldn’t do much without the complete recipe for her drug cocktail. “Anyway, we realized we needed to add physical stimulation to the mix, but we weren’t sure what kind. We’d started narrowing down those options the day before your … accident.”

“The electrocution?”

“Right. Dr. Bertel, you say you can’t remember anything before a few hours ago?”

“Not much.” He shook his head. “A few bits and pieces, but everything’s blurry.”

“Does the date July seventh mean anything to you?”

He put a hand to his head, and for a moment his eyes had their old shy sadness. No weird vacancy, no fierce hunter. “Yeah, it does. Isn’t that … I think … That’s the day my son died, isn’t it?”

Julia studied him, hoping he was returning to himself.

“Do you remember when you had your accident?”

His eyes widened with understanding. “That was the same date my son died.” He put his head in his hands, and Julia’s heart went out to him.

“Dr. Bertel, were you on any kind of medication, or under any kind of care at all, for depression?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Why? Do you think I tried to kill myself?”

“I don’t know.”

He thought about it for a moment, and then his body went rigid, his eyes took on that wild look again, and he jerked back in his chair—hard enough to tip the front rollers off the floor. “No! That doesn’t make sense. Why would I try to commit suicide when I was so close to a breakthrough?” Then his eyes went blank.

“Dr. Bertel, you’ve been through a lot, and well, I mean, have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re a mess. You should be in the hospital. We’re so close to the ER. Please, let me take you.”

“I can’t. I think someone’s after me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps someone else who wants to know about our discovery.”

“Then let’s call Austin, I mean Detective Moore, and tell him. Maybe he can have someone guard your room or something.”

“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” Dr. Bertel stood. “Was electricity one of the physical stimuli we considered?”

“Dr. Bertel, haven’t you told me many times that you can’t expect your brain to operate at top performance if you don’t give it plenty of food, water, and rest? I’m guessing you need all three. If there is a human soul, it’s been doing fine without us for a few thousand years. It can wait a few more days.”

Bertel wasn’t listening. He began pacing. “It’s amazing what science can do in the twenty-first century. Who would have thought it? A connection between science and the soul. Imagine having dominion over death. A man with that power could command a legion of souls. He could become general of an army. He could even become king!”

As Dr. Bertel continued babbling and pacing, Julia took the opportunity to sneak her cell out of her pocket and text Austin. There wasn’t time for much. So she just thumbed, “911. Doc in lab. Losing it.”

Before she could hit the send button, Bertel grabbed her wrist, the one holding the phone. His face was inches from hers. He had morning breath times a thousand. Tyler would say it smelled like a dragon had crawled in his mouth and died. “What is that?!” he demanded fiercely.

“I’m just trying to help,” she squeaked.

He grabbed the phone out of her hand and examined it. “But what is it?”

“What do you mean, ‘what is it?’ It’s a cell phone. You know, like the one you just called me with.”

He stared right at the screen but didn’t seem to understand what she had typed. “It looks like some kind of writing.”

She was dumbfounded. Just how severe was this amnesia? For the moment, it gave her an advantage. She spoke slowly and calmly as she pointed at the phone. “You remember, Dr. Bertel. That’s where I keep my notes on our research.”

“Can you put these research notes on parchment?”

“Of course. But I’ll need my phone back, so I can send the notes to my laptop.”

“You write on this and the notes appear in your lap?”

She tried to hide her dismay. “Sure. You bet.”

“Okay, let’s put the notes in your lap. I want to know more about bringing back the soul.” He handed her the phone, tried to gather his wits about him, and said, “Maybe it will help me remember who’s after me.”

Julia hit “send” and, for the first time in her life, sent up a silent prayer. “Please let Austin get here fast.” She didn’t know if she believed in God, but after all she’d seen in the past couple of days, she figured it couldn’t hurt. She looked up at Bertel. “Okay, now we just have to hook my laptop up to the printer. It’s in the lab.” She turned to open the door, but he grabbed her again, hard—this time on the upper arm where he’d bruised her before. She winced with pain.

“Where are you going?!” he growled, his face close to hers, his lips peeled back from his teeth like an enraged animal.

“My laptop is in the lab.”

“Lab?”

“Lab-or-a-tory. Where scientists do experiments?”

“Are you trying to trick me?”

“Of course not, Dr. Bertel. Please! You’re hurting me.”

Bertel closed his eyes, twitched, and swayed, as if he were about to faint. When he opened his eyes, there was that change again, this time for the better. He looked at his hand on her arm, as if wondering how it had gotten there, then let go and stepped back with a look of dismay. “Julia … I … I’m sorry. I’d never try to hurt you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I know, Dr. Bertel. You’re not yourself. You need help. Will you let me call for help?”

He swallowed and nodded.

Julia started to dial 911, for real this time. But as she did, Bertel knocked the phone from her hand, grabbed her, and flung her across the office. She landed on the desk, the wind knocked out of her. Before she could catch her breath, he swung open the door and ran into the hall.

“Whoa! What’s up, Doc?” a familiar female voice called. “Going somewhere in a hurry, I see.”

A moment later, Nadia was leaning against the doorframe, twirling the chain attached to her key card. “I see you found Dr. Frankenstein. What’d you do to scare him off, make a pass? On the desk? Kinky.”

Julia slid off the desk, pushed past Nadia, and skidded into the hall, but the doctor was already gone. She fought the urge to chase him. It wasn’t difficult. She was terrified.

Nadia walked up to her and took a closer look at her face. “What the hell happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or maybe a zombie, from the looks of the doc.”

Julia turned to stare at her friend. “Do you believe in possession?”

“No way. Nadia belongs to no man. I’m too young to be pinned down, and so are you.”

Julia rolled her eyes and smiled in spite of herself. “Not that kind of possession, you moron. Demonic possession.”

“You mean like
The Exorcism of Emily Rose?
No, I don’t believe in that crap, and neither do you. Re-member?”

“Stow the sarcasm and listen. Dr. Bertel was dead for an unusually long time before I zapped him back to life, and when he came back he was crazy strong. It didn’t make sense. Then he started speaking French. Then he disappeared. And now … now he’s going through these weird mood swings, like he’s some completely different person.”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down. Think about what you’re saying. You’re the scientist. I’m sure you can think of a rational explanation.”

“Like, maybe he was strong because of adrenaline? And he just never admitted he could speak French because he was worried I’d think his French was bad?”

“That’s my girl.”

“And he disappeared because he was disoriented. And he’s going through mood swings because he’s been through a trauma.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.”

“Nadia, he had this weird amnesia.”

“Still makes sense.”

“But get this: He could remember his son, but he had no idea what a cell phone was, or what a laptop was, or even what a laboratory was. He used words like
dominion, legion,
and
parchment.
He talked about becoming a king! It was like he was from another century.”

“Okay, that is kind of weird.” Nadia was starting to look as spooked as Julia felt. “What’re you going to do?”

“I’ve called Austin.”

“Oh, good. The sexy cop.”

“Nadia, this is serious.” Julia tried to play it cool with Austin. She’d never tell, but deep down she was aching to see him again.

“I know, but a little distraction wouldn’t hurt, either.”

“Have you forgotten about my boyfriend? Tyler?”

Nadia looked at her quizzically. “No. Have you?”

“Of course not. Well, for now you should stay away from Dr. Bertel.”

“Because he’s possessed? C’mon, Julia.”

“No. Because he threw me across a room.”

“You didn’t tell me that part.”

“How’d you think I ended up on the desk?” She pursed her lips at her friend’s raised eyebrows. “Forget I asked. Look, for your own safety, just steer clear if you see him.” Julia paused. “Why’d you stop by, anyway?”

“I thought we’d have lunch.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll probably be tied up with Austin for a while.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Funny.” She elbowed Nadia. “C’mon, I’ll walk out with you.”

As they walked outside, Austin’s car was pulling into the lot. Nadia’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, but her words were smooth: “I expect a full report!” Nadia gave Julia a hug and walked her to the car.

Julia waited for Austin next to her car when a flutter of white caught her eye. A note on her windshield. She grabbed it and read it. The words were French, scrawled in a script so old-fashioned it looked like calligraphy:
“Mort a l’hérétique.”
She felt the blood rush from her head.

“Julia! Where’s Bertel?! Are you okay?” Julia looked up and saw Austin racing at full tilt to her side. Without hesitation, he put his strong arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. Julia’s heart surged as she felt the heat emanating between them. There was no mistaking it—Austin felt something for her too. She threw her arms around his back and allowed herself to be enveloped in his warm embrace. One hand went up to the nape of her neck and began to massage her head, which was now lying on his chest. The other hand drifted down her spine to the small of her back and pressed his fingers into her flesh. Without thinking, she began to run her hand through the back of his thick, wavy hair. She looked up hesitantly and saw a new fire in his eyes. Then, in a flash, it was gone. He detached himself from the embrace, cleared his throat, and looked down at the note she was still holding. “‘Death to the heretic?’“

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