Eternal (20 page)

Julia sat down heavily as the weight of what she had read hit her with full force. “Does this mean Bertel’s not dead?”

Father Anselm nodded. “His soul is still attached to his body through what is referred to as a ‘silver cord.’ He is struggling to push his way back into the carnal envelope.”

“Then maybe we just need an exorcism to get him back. Do you know how to do it?”

“I don’t think you’re following me, Julia. Dr. Bertel invented a more efficient way for souls to enter and exit the body with a mix of chemicals and electricity that makes transmission almost instantaneous. The sudden shock gives the living soul no time to fight back and gives the invading soul more control. Old-fashioned exorcism isn’t going to be enough. You’ll need to send Fulbert out more or less the same way he came in.”

“So if I give Bertel another jolt, Fulbert will leave, and Bertel will be his old self?”

“Theoretically. But you have another problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Fulbert is just the beginning. It is my belief that Fulbert is here not just to experience mortality again but to form—”

“A legion.”

Father Anselm looked at her quizzically.

“It’s something Bertel—I mean, Fulbert—said.” Julia shook her head. “I think we already ran into one of his recruits. He jumped on our car and tried to kill Austin—I mean, Pierre.”

Father Anselm and Julia sat in silence for a moment. Then Julia voiced the guilt that had been festering in her heart since Bertel’s electrocution. “Father,” Julia said in a husky voice. “This is my fault. I have been resisting what my soul has been telling me—to believe in God and soulmates and goodness—because if I do, I must admit to the wretchedness of my state before God.
I
am responsible for using that damned defibrillator to start the Apocalypse.” She erupted into a fit of sobs.

Father Anselm consoled her with the words of a practiced healer of souls. “Julia, this battle has been brewing for millennia. You didn’t cause it. But I’m afraid you’re the one who has to stop it.”

“Me? I don’t have visions. I’m no exorcist. I’m not even that good at science. All my best experiments end with soul-swapping or people puking their guts out.”

“You must move beyond the science fair. See it as a learning experience.”

“So they’re broadcasting that one on the Visions from God channel too?”

“Julia, don’t underestimate yourself. I’ve seen you in a hundred futures. In all of them you’re riding a thundering black horse among the living and the dead, throwing bolts of lightning in your wake, rescuing humankind, and returning their demon attackers to hell.”

“I can’t ride a horse.”

“Sometimes my visions are symbolic. But you’re missing the point.”

Julia took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Her next words surprised even herself. “Well, Father, I may not be able to save the world or even Dr. Bertel. Hell, I may not be able to save myself. But I’ll give it my best shot. Tell me what I need to do.”

T
WENTY-
T
HREE

F
ather Anselm and Julia talked for more than an hour. When she left the church, she carried the book,
Divine Tragedy,
with her. As she walked toward her car, she saw Tyler leaning against it, waiting. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

“Tyler, what are you doing here?” she asked.

When he turned his eyes to her, they looked unsure, searching, lost. It was all she could do not to put her arms around him and comfort him. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, ran into your boss.”

“Really? When? Where?”

“Last night at Shakes. He said he tried to talk to you, but you ran away before he could warn you about everything you’re up against. He says there are people who are desperately searching for your research. People who won’t stop until they have it. He says you’re trusting the wrong people.”

“Why doesn’t he call and tell me this himself?” After the last meeting with Bertel, she knew who she could trust. And it wasn’t Dr. Bertel.

“He thinks you’ll hang up or that Austin will trace the call. Really, Julia, the guy’s just trying to help, and so am I. I do love you, Julia.”

She sighed. “Tyler …”

“It’s okay, Julia. I know we’re over. But that doesn’t mean I want to see anything bad happen to you. This Bertel was very convincing. He gave me this.” He held out a piece of paper. She grabbed it with her key hand, since she held the book in the other. “He asked you to meet him tomorrow at that location, at that time.” He started to walk away.

She turned to open her car door. Her hand shook so fiercely that she could barely insert the key in the lock. She turned back toward Tyler, wanting to say something conciliatory, but he was already gone.

Julia still needed a lab, but her purpose had changed. She no longer needed to pick up a few minor things; she now had her own agenda. Bertel’s lab was off limits—it was now a crime scene. She needed to find a different place to work.

She was going to meet Bertel tomorrow all right, but on her own terms. She repeated Father Anselm’s words in her mind and steeled her resolve. “Even the strongest leaders rely on others for support,” he’d said. “But there will come a moment when you’ll be on your own. At that moment, remember, there’s Someone who is always there, even when you fall. Just put your trust in Him.”

The sun was at its zenith on a cloudless day, brightening the whole coast. As she climbed the hill toward home, she could see the ocean, its dazzling aqua surface reflecting thousands of crystals of light, which churned into broad, low white combers. She and Austin had yet to go to the beach together, the most romantic spot in town. She wondered if they would ever have that chance.

Pulling into the driveway of her childhood home gave her more comfort than she had anticipated. As she walked in the front door, she turned to look at the bookshelves. The top shelves were cluttered with framed photos of her and her parents at various stages of their lives. She picked up the one of the three of them on the beach in Kauai. It was her favorite. They were smiling in all the photos, but in this one they looked the most genuinely happy. In fact, they looked ready to burst into laughter over some private joke.

“That one’s my favorite too.”

Julia was so startled that she fumbled the photo frame and almost dropped it. Then she clutched it against her chest. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, sweetheart. I thought you were going to the lab.”

“I forgot something.”

“Are you all right, Julia? You look tired.”

“Do I? So, the tables have turned.”

“I guess neither of us has slept much this past year. It’s a wonder we haven’t started hallucinating from psychosis.”

“What makes you so sure we haven’t?” They both laughed. In the middle of the laughter, their eyes locked, and in that moment Julia saw her own grief reflected in her father’s eyes. The two of them had always been so close that they hadn’t realized the invisible thread that her mother had wound through their lives together. When that thread was cut, it had sent them tumbling apart, stumbling to make their way back to each other without Michele’s guiding hand. But it wasn’t too late. Julia rushed toward him and threw her arms all the way around him, as if she might fall unless he held her up. She still clutched the family picture in one hand.

He patted her shoulder with a clumsy hand, then wrapped both his arms around her and laid a cheek on her head. She started to cry. “Hey,” he soothed. “Hey, what’s this?”

She stepped back and wiped her eyes. “Did you ever have a feeling that something bad was going to happen, Dad? And no one else could do anything about it except you? Like you had to act as if you were … someone else, someone stronger than you really are?”

A crease of worry separated his eyes as he searched hers. He took a deep breath and pointed at the photo still in her hands. “Do you remember what happened the day we took this?”

Julia stared at the photo, trying to call up some other image besides the one in front of her, but drew a blank. “No. Why?”

“You were five years old,” He spoke slowly, deliberately. “Your mom wanted to go for a hike up this beautiful mountain trail. I resisted, saying I’d rather just go to the beach. But I couldn’t fool her. She knew I had a fear of heights, and she made fun of me, saying, ‘So Mr. High Anxiety, having a little acrophobia, are we?’ Only the word sounded more like ‘aquifer-b,’ you know? So I started teasing her about that.”

Julia laughed. They’d always tried not to make fun of her mom’s French accent, but sometimes it had been hard to resist—especially since she made fun of it herself.

Morton continued. “Anyway, I tried to explain to her that while I always had a slight fear of heights, this time I felt something stronger—a feeling that something bad would happen if we walked on that trail. She pointed out that it wasn’t all that steep, it was well marked, and she only wanted to go a short way. ‘Our neighbors in the condo next door say the view is
magnifique!
She poured on the charm and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I felt silly arguing about it, so we all went. It was a rainforest, thick with green leaves and vines and colorful flowers. You said, ‘It looks the way I imagine heaven!’ You asked me the Latin names of the plants, and you were frustrated that I didn’t know them all. Then you spotted a waterfall, and you ran ahead of us. I yelled at you to wait, but you were a curious little thing, and it was impossible to hold you back.”

“Rushing ahead without thinking. Sounds like me.”

He smiled, not disagreeing with her, but said, “Julia, you were five. Anyway, you turned and gave me this defiant grin and stepped onto the rocks at the top of the waterfall.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as the memory tumbled back into her consciousness. “The rocks were slick. I slipped and grabbed a rock and held on. Water went up my nose. I hated that feeling. I remember it being very high.”

“It was only about twenty-five feet to the bottom, but it was rocky enough to be deadly. Your mom, who never feared anything in her life, froze and clutched my arm. For a moment, my fear of heights held me frozen in place too. Then you started crying, and something snapped inside me. I rushed into that water, grabbed you by the back of your blouse, and hauled you out.” He chuckled, sounding nervous and shaky, as if he were reliving the experience. “Your mom ran up to us, and we all sat in the middle of the trail, hugging, until we were covered in mud. Then I stood and forced myself to look over the edge of that waterfall, facing the vertigo. Looking down at the sharp rocks below, I felt sick at the thought of what might have happened to you. We went back to the condo, showered, and went to the beach. After that, we were so grateful for your life, the rest of the day seemed perfect. We kept laughing at nothing, absolutely nothing.”

Julia smiled and touched her fingers to the glass in the frame, her hand connecting the three faces in the photo. “You saved my life, Daddy.”

“I would do anything for you.”

“Dad, I need to tell you something. I’m in some trouble.”

He chose his next words carefully. “Is it serious? Are you in real danger?”

Her nod was barely perceptible. “But not from Dr. Bertel, like Detective Alvarez told you. Or at least not in the way you might think.”

“It’s something bigger,” he said.

“You could say that.”

“Tell me.”

“Maybe we should eat something first.”

They raided the fridge, then sat down to eat at the red-and-white checked tablecloth—the one Michele hated but Morton wouldn’t give up. Julia started at the beginning. She told him everything about her research that she believed his scientific mind could accept, from Bertel’s experiments with cadaver brains to their theories about the pineal gland and returning a dead brain to life. She didn’t speak in terms of the soul but, rather, in terms of electrochemical impulses and energy.

Julia didn’t tell him that she believed Bertel was now possessed by an evil soul. She knew he’d never believe it, and she knew telling him would severely hamper the rudimentary plan forming in her mind. She had rarely lied to her father, but the import of what she was determined to do outweighed her reticence to fabricate a story. So she thought of something plausible, using almost the same story that Bertel had told her. “We were on the verge of a breakthrough before Bertel’s accident. You remember how Bertel used to work with the FBI?”

“Yes, but they washed their hands of him because he was too controversial.”

“Well, it turns out he never really stopped working with them. He just went undercover. After the accident, some very powerful competitors took advantage of the situation and stole our notes. Luckily, I kept a copy of everything on an external hard drive. It’s locked up in the safe at work. But the thing is—”

Morton cut in. “Julia, do you think these people caused Bertel’s accident?”

Julia shook off the question. “Maybe. Whatever happened, now that they have our notes—they know everything we know. So it is critical that I finish our research before they do. I have an edge, because I hadn’t finished writing down all of our progress before my notes were stolen.”

He nodded. Despite the danger, Morton’s love for research overshadowed his concern for a moment. “Right, right. But how can you do that if the lab is a crime scene?”

“Exactly. That’s what I need to talk to you about, Dad. The experiments that I still need to do primarily require me to mix up certain drug compounds. So, really, a pharmaceutical lab like yours would do the trick. Normally I wouldn’t ask you, but … well, Dad, you understand this isn’t just about money. Some of these competitors pose a threat to …”
To me? To myfamily? To the human race?
“… to national security.”

He tilted his head at her. “You’re not going to use these drugs on people, right?”

“No, Daddy, of course not. I just need to mix the compounds and deliver them to the FBI for animal testing.” She held her breath. She had never been a good liar, and there were as many holes in her story as a piece of Swiss cheese.

“Okay,” he said, thoughtfully.