Project Lazarus (3 page)

The town of Cotter was a unique Ozark village with a population under 1,000 people. Its largest attraction was the fishing.  Specifically, the trout, spread across a three mile plus White River shoreline.  Rainbow trout, brown trout and brookies called home to the bottom of the Bull Shoals Lake.

The Marsh Rainbow Arch Bridge was the best known symbol of Cotter.  Yet, all of Cotter’s history was symbolized by the  Anglin- Tinnon Railroad Worker’s Memorial, built to honor those who constructed Cotter’s railroad history.  The railroad’s role in Cotter had diminished since construction in 1901, when Cotter was once known as Boomtown and the largest town in Northern Arkansas.  Even though those days were long gone, the memorial was constructed in 2003 in Cotter’s Big Spring Park.  

At the entrance to the grounds was a black granite monument, a memorial to railroad workers.

At least twenty dead men congregated for a reunion of sorts.  Wearing their Sunday’s best, dressed from the early 1900’s, they were indeed a strange sight.  Their relatives long since passed and some not buried in Cotter, it appeared they had no other family to return to.

The dead men wandered around.  Lost.  Utterly lost.  The tall statue of the train conductor drew them in, a familiar sight, they lingered.

It wasn’t long before twenty year old, Ned Lunder, jogged by for his morning run in Big Spring Park.

He stopped, watching the men in suits and ties, walking about.  What were they doing?  It was a Sunday morning.  Perhaps, a tribute.  No, that was during the Trout Festival.  He was quite certain.

The lanky lad with dark hair jogged over to the men.

“Say, what’s going on today?” He asked the thin dark haired man with the aged face.

The stranger stared blankly.

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I hope I’m not intruding or anything.  I thought I might be missing the tribute this year.”

The man stared blankly.

Another man dressed in a suit, plump and stout with grey hair, much older than the first approached.

Ned turned around, more of the men started towards him.  They said nothing.  They walked slowly.

He was puzzled.  They didn’t speak.  Yet, they had some form of communication.  Perhaps telepathic.  They were closing in on him that was for sure.

Uneasy, he backed away.

The plump fellow spoke up, eyes intent, staring directly at him, “Where’s the train?”

“Huh?” Ned asked.

Cotter didn’t have a train.

“Where’s the train?” He asked again.

Ned’s eyes widened.

“The railroad tracks.  We built them,” another man chimed in.  This fellow was young, about Ned’s age, and that seemed to make him a bit more open.

“You built the tracks,” Ned was thinking.  Maybe this was some type of reenactment.

“Where is the train?” The man demanded.

“I want to see the train,” cried another.

Ned Lunder was running, his feet moving fast.  He found his way out of the crowd and out of the park.  Something strange was going on at the Railroad Worker’s Memorial.

He paused to catch his breath, hands on his knees.  The strange railroad men were following him.  He started again, drawing distance between them, although he never looked back.

Charlie Dempster and his wife Millicent were on route to the secret facility in the woods.  Their entire heads covered in burlap sacks.  Their bodies in the back of a trunk.  No ordinary trunk.  This was a top of the line, state of the art vehicle.  Bullet proof for protection.  The car was so technologically advanced it would make a tech geek wish to the tech Gods he had invented it.

Charlie heard of the vehicle, he was an internationally known researcher and intellectual mind in certain circles, government circles, and spy circles, anything secretive that was the world he lived in.

Bound but not gagged, he apologized again to Millicent. 

Silent in the trunk of the car, he knew where they were headed.  Back to the place he ran from a mere few hours ago, when they raised that man from the dead.

He heard the crackling of the speakers; the vehicle had a complete stereo system which resonated in the trunk.

The voice came over the speaker loud and clear.

“Sorry to be so cruel Charlie.”

He wasn’t gagged but might have well been.  Dare he reply?  Were these men now capable of killing him and Millicent?  Did he know too much?

“What do you want from me?” He asked.

“Well, Charlie….the research was successful.   It appears it is possible to raise someone from the dead.”

“Yes, I know I saw it with my own two eyes.   How he did it.  I’ll never know.”

The he, Charlie was referring to, was a man from a strange obscure almost extinct tribe they had procured from a jungle in the Amazon over two years ago.

“The how is imperative now Charlie.  That’s why we need you?”

“You still have him?”

“Yes we have him.”

“What about the dead man,” he sighed long, “I mean the living man?”

“He’s contained.”

“I want out,” Charlie insisted.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.  We need you Charlie.”

“What if I say no?”

There was no answer.

“What then?  What now?”  Charlie asked.

“I’m about to tell you something that doesn’t leave this car.  This trunk,” said the man on the other side of the speaker, “The whole town of Cotter is about to find out.”        

“Oh God,” Charlie screamed, “No.”

“It’s out of our control now Charlie.  You see he didn’t just raise one dead man.  He raised all the dead in the entire town.”

Silence.

On the other side of town, Rachel and Joey Rimble experienced a miracle only to be completely destroyed.

Rachel gave birth to a stillborn baby boy; they affectionately named Troy, despite his death.        

Joey comforted his wife, “It’ll be okay.  We’ll get through this.”

He was only met with a shattered face and tears.

The baby named Troy was pronounced dead over two hours ago.  It was clear it would take a longer time for Rachel to recover from this devastating blow.

“Why Joey?  Why Troy?  Why us?”

The baby was taken out the room immediately when the Cotter Hospital doctors realized he wasn’t breathing.  They worked on him for 45 minutes before calling it quits.

The room was empty, except for the deceased baby boy.

Rachel had to see him one more time.

“You know we can’t go down there,” Joey pleaded with her, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Please,” she whispered.

He couldn’t refuse and began to help his feeble wife.  She was too weak to make it but he tried to appease her.

A cry.  A baby’s cry came from down the hall.

Troy was alive.

The couple looked at each other in awe.  The fury of doctor’s ensued.

The baby, pronounced dead two hours ago was now among the living again.

A miracle.  Or so it seemed.

The brush was thick.  Wild monkeys hooted and hollered from the trees.  Anaconda snakes lured under their feet, waiting for them, waiting for prey.

The men continued through the unfamiliar territory. They were the prey.  And they knew it. Slowly, they walked.  Far away from camp now, this was the farthest they had ever gone into the jungle, the Amazon.

“Professor Dempster…How much further?” Asked Commander Archibald Henrid.

Commander Henrid was a man of medium height; his years of push-ups and such athletic training had made him superior in width, to rival any foe in the jungle. 

“A little bit more, I think,” Professor Dempster answered hesitantly.

His eyes darted like the wild animals that now surrounded them.  The fear of tigers or other such night terrors were now a reality. 

“You think?” Commander Henrid’s controlled voice escalated in pitch but not sound.

“Yes,” Charlie Dempster assured him.

It was five years prior to the experiment that would raise a man from the dead in Cotter, Arkansas.  An elite division in the United States military had contracted Professor Dempster, who specialized in among many scientific areas, a unique study of lost tribes capable of raising the dead.

Now, Charlie Dempster, Commander Henrid and his unit were in charge of finding a lost tribe in the Amazon. They were searching for members of “Those of The Arrow”, a group of indigenous people that had never seen another human being before. 

“Those of The Arrow” were ruthless and as their name insinuated very good with poisonous arrows.  Getting close wouldn’t be easy, in fact, it could be deadly.  Smarter than other tribes, they had survived the years of revolutionary men trying to now cultivate and tear down the rain forest.  They survived on rumor.  They survived on tales.  They survived by killing.  They survived because they knew how to hide and they knew how to raise the dead.

It was the dream of any “National Geographic” reporter or photographer.  But journalists weren’t destined to be the first to come face to face with these all but extinct tribes. While such journalists might imagine the moment of eye to eye, face to face contact with such an obscure tribe, the thrill and recognition they might experience when two individuals would realize they were of the same humanity, that wasn’t to be the case for those journalists.

This was an unusual encounter, one in which men from another land were coming to extract one man from a tribe.

Commander Henrid had at his command 15 men, all snipers; their goal was to take the leader, the man with the power to raise the dead. They wanted him alive, ironically.  They had no desire to kill him.  They wanted only his knowledge and his power.

Unknown to his powerful companions with guns, Charlie Dempster was more than a scientist and a researcher that day, he was a man on the verge of losing his only son, Dylan, just five years of age to cancer.  He would die in a month, maybe a week, maybe that very day.  But “The Mystical One”, the leader of  “Those of The Arrow”, he could raise him.

If they ever knew his personal motives, Charlie would be fired or worse.  They could never know.  He made sure of that.  Dylan was treated out of state and out of sight.  He was completely off the grid and so was his cancer.  Only Charlie’s trusted friend, Dr. Collins, a specialist in child cancer knew the truth.  They both agreed before Charlie left for the Amazon, the tribal leader of  “Those of the Arrow”, was his only hope.

“Okay Commander,” Professor Dempster warned, “They’re probably watching us now.”

The two men exchanged an intense look, it was now or never.  The leaves of the forest and the brush were so brutal, the sweat dripping from all over their bodies was nothing compared to the blood that followed.  No amount of layers of clothing could hide them from the sun, the brutal branches or the animals that would chase the scent of something now dying- them.

Commander Henrid motioned his men to stay back.

Complete silence.  It was indeed a standoff, a war was about to ensue.  Commander Henrid and Professor Dempster knew what they wanted to win.  “Those of The Arrow” only knew these were strange intruders to be warned, to be killed, to be eliminated.

It was what all wars come down to eventually.  One side needs to eliminate the other because of misunderstanding and fear.  Or perhaps, everyone has it clear to begin with.  When someone takes something from you or invades your territory, it is time for them to go.   An eye for an eye. 

Commander Henrid was growing impatient.

“No, not yet,” Charlie urged.

He knew the tribe would make their move.  They would expose themselves.  They were on the verge of seeing a group of people that had never seen civilization.  They were also on the verge of finding, “The Mystical One”, the leader, he would be the one with the two blue stripes of paint on his forehead, the long unkempt hair and no thumbs.

Eight fingers.  Could the myth really be true?  Charlie wondered.

The arrow shot past his face, inches from grazing his nose.

More whizzed by.

The war had begun.

They appeared in bits and fragments, “Those of the Arrow”, bare legs, covered with animal skins, faces with paint, hair with its own language, men, women, and children.

Barely a sound.  Those snipers pulled the trigger and made barely a sound in the Amazon.   Was it possible to be surrounded by wild animals and people in a lost place and time and not make any sound?

Charlie braced himself against a tree.

There was a thick branch like cord, directly to his right, he knew what that meant.  It meant go no further.

He tugged at Commander Henrid’s camouflage shirt.  The commander was annoyed.  This was a battle.  The professor had no place in the middle of it.

Being a wise man, Commander Henrid, motioned to his men to cease.

Professor Dempster motioned at the cord, “We can’t pass.”

Both men looked up to the sound of footsteps scurrying about.  They saw two barely clothed men making their way across a bridge.  They were going to warn the others about the dangerous intruders.

The snipers left three members of the tribe dead.

The other tribe members were uncertain. Were their members dead?  They could have easily been wounded or in shock or knocked out.  The possibilities were endless to a human being that had never seen a gunshot wound let alone one that left very little blood.

“We’ve got to,” Commander Henrid disagreed.

“That cord it’s a sign.  They’ve got the elder somewhere beyond.  That’s a warning sign.”

“We came here to get that elder.  You know that.”

“And I’m warning you we can’t pass that cord.”

“I’ll make the decisions Professor.  That’s why I’m in charge.”

There was a private silent war building between these two men, one of science and one of war.

“This is a war Charlie,” Commander Henrid told him, “I can’t fail this mission.”

“I don’t know what they’re capable of,” Charlie Dempster stammered.

“Isn’t that what we’re here to find out?” Commander Henrid demanded.

It hit him like a bolt of thunder.  Charlie had so much to gain by capturing that elder that his mind was thinking overtime.  While he was terrified and he knew a warning from a time out, he wanted that elder just as much as the Commander.

“You’re right Commander, that’s exactly it.  Hear me out,” Charlie implored.

“Do I have a choice?”  He sighed, “You’re the expert.”

“Yes, now this is a war but there is more than one way to win.  They’ve gone back to the others Commander.  They’re probably telling them about the intruders.  When they realize they have three dead men out here, that’s when the elder will come.”

Commander Henrid thought for a moment.  Just a single moment, he knew the power of making a quick decision.

“Draw the elder out?” He mused.

“He’ll come.  He has to.  He has a gift, an obligation, he’ll raise them from the dead.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”   

“It sounds like a good theory but we can’t wait here all night,” Commander Henrid argued, “Besides what if these men aren’t important to the tribe?”

“The elder deems all life as sacred.  If he can raise them, he will.  He’ll come.  Look, it’s worth a shot.  Wait it out a bit.  I don’t doubt you and your men’s capabilities but I don’t know what you’ll find beyond that cord and that bridge.  Let him come to us.  It will be an ambush.”

Commander Henrid agreed, “For now, we wait but when I say go its go time.”

“Agreed,” Professor Dempster said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

He had so much to lose. 

The men waited.  Hours passed.  Night was about to fall. Dusk was setting in.

Command Henrid was a patient man growing very impatient.  Danger was imminent.  This was a jungle with wild animals ready to kill.  He worried for his men, himself but mostly Professor Dempster.  While he was inclined to personally kill him if this all went wrong, he knew enough about human nature to know Professor Dempster had more than a scientific stake in the outcome.

“It’s getting late, I know,” Professor Dempster stammered, as though reading Commander Henrid’s thoughts.

“What are you doing here Professor?” Commander Henrid asked ignoring the task at hand, taking his eye off the ball for merely a second, doing what his soul commanded instead.

He was no longer a military man.  He was simply talking to a man, yet he felt as though he was at war with Charlie Dempster. When did the scientist become an adversary, a foe?  He wanted to know what the man standing beside him was doing in the middle of the Amazon.

“Don’t bother with some trivial explanation about your passion for science.  Don’t give me that.  Science isn’t the only reason you’re here. I know people Charlie and you better not be screwing with me out here in this jungle because if any of my men get killed, well….” and he left it unsaid.

“Hey, I’m not the enemy here.”      

“Sure about that?” Commander Henrid challenged.

“What are you driving at?”

“You’ve got an agenda Charlie.  Don’t know what it is.  But you’ve got one.”

“Yeah, well what about you?  What makes a grown man trample through this God forsaken place to catch some elder from a tribe?  Your fading military career?  Your pride?  Think I only read articles and information about science you can’t understand?  Don’t think I did my homework on you?”