Project Lazarus (34 page)

“Loyalty?” Ivan asked again confused.

“Ivan, be quiet.  Let him talk,” Gilbert urged.

“Those men.  They won’t get to you if you deliver my message,” the Lazarus man told them.

“Fine,” Gilbert agreed.

“Find Dylan Dempster, Charlie Dempster’s son and tell him he must find me before the Fixer finds him.”

“The Fixer?” Gilbert inquired.

“You know boy, there are no answers for you.  Dylan will know by the time you find him.  Now deliver my message and get in that cave before those men get here.”

“Fine.  We’ll find this Dylan Dempster.  We’ll tell him to find you first before The Fixer finds him.  Where can he find you?”

A devilish grin crossed his face, “You ask too many questions.  Just find him and deliver my message.  Now go,” he commanded pointing to the cave.

The boys crawled into a space that could hardly be considered a space.

There was no room to move and little room to breathe.

“I could have killed you back there,” the Lazarus man said poking his head in the crevice, “you better learn to be more careful if you’re gonna deliver my message.”

The boys knew he was right.  They were too slow and not smart enough to boot.

“Why didn’t you?”  Gilbert paused, “Kill us?”

“Loyalty,” he used that word again.  It didn’t seem to fit. “You better pick a side boys.  It’s about to hit the fan.  Loyalty.  You’re about to see its advantages.”

He turned around and began running towards the crossfire, towards the noise.

The boys couldn’t believe it.  He was distracting the snipers.

“Got something?” Yelled the sniper, when the Lazarus man was out of view.

“Not sure,” another man answered, “a man.”

“Not just any man.  That’s the one from Project Lazarus.”

“Shoot him,” yelled the sniper.

The gun blast went off.  The two boys shuddered and hugged each other as they bowed their heads.

They were to deliver a message and in return the Lazarus man spared their lives for that message.  What could it all possibly mean? 

“Gilbert- how’s Dylan supposed to find a man that’s dead?”

“Do you really think a simple military man can kill a dead man?” Gilbert replied.

“Right,” Ivan acknowledged.

It would be many years before they heard anything of the Lazarus man.  But they knew a lot about him and it all boiled down to loyalty.

It was time to pick a side.  If only the boys knew what sides the sides were maybe then they could choose one. 

They were about to find out in a most horrifying way.

When the silence occurred, the boys could breathe.  Their sighs were heavy and heard by each other.  It was an unexpected release of human emotion, the simple act of breathing.

Gilbert peered out of the small opening.  The dimming August sunlight hit his eyes like a piercing knife.  He thought back to the day they first met the Lazarus man.  It was June then.  Now, unless they were graced with an Indian Summer, it was slowly withering into Fall.  An Indian Summer was a fickle friend and the only Indian folklore they boys could count on was the Indian burial ground that their home in Cotter, Arkansas was built on.  The town was haven for Indian burial grounds.  It was one of the few dead that appeared to be raised for some reason.  Gilbert had yet to see a real Indian chief running about.

Rumor had it building on sacred grounds was a bad omen.  Perhaps, there was a lot of truth to that rumor.

The blinding light caught his eye again and he shielded himself from the sun.  It was then he caught a glimpse of the shiny object.

“Look,” he pointed to the metal piece in the leaves.

Ivan shook his head, “Not mine.”

Gilbert reached out with one free hand, unfortunately, his arm was too short.  Ivan grabbed his brother’s arm back quickly.

“Don’t,” he warned, “it could be a trap.”

“Silence,” he commanded his brother, “No.  It’s his.  I can feel it.  Him.”

“You mean the Lazarus man?” Ivan asked.

“Yes,” he muttered without hesitation, “come on, I’ve got to get a closer look at it.”

Ivan didn’t like the idea.

“I wouldn’t go near it.”

“Why not?” Gilbert questioned.

“I don’t know.”

“Not good enough,” Gilbert told him, scrambling to contort his body to his feet and slide out of the crevice.

“Look at us Gilbert.  I mean really look at us.  What happened to that man?  Did they kill him?”

Gilbert shook his head in the negative.  He didn’t know.

“We’re two cemetery stones waiting to happen brother.  We used to believe in UFO’s and spaceships, government secrets and now we’re part of some strange experiment where things we’ve only read about in The Bible happen in the real world.  I don’t see God or Jesus do you?”

“Where’s all this coming from?” Gilbert wondered, still seeking the adventure.

“There are men out there that want to kill us.  It’s going to be winter soon.  We can’t go back home.  Where are we gonna go?  How are we gonna survive Gilbert?  I need to know.”

“It’ll blow over.  They think we’re gone.”

“You’re a fool older brother.  They’ll never leave us alone.  We know too much.”

“I don’t know what to say.  I’m sorry I guess.”

“What are you sorry for Gilbert?  We both love the chase, the adventure, the mystery.  But stuff like this doesn’t happen in real life….does it?”

This time Gilbert nodded in the affirmative, “It does happen. We’re in it.”

“Two deer’s in the headlights,” Ivan mused, “it’s our lot in life.”

“Our lot,” Gilbert mumbled, dissatisfied at the idea there was nothing they could do to change things.

Gilbert stretched out his legs as much as he could before standing.

“Wait a second.  You’re not seriously thinking about going out there?” The younger brother challenged.

“I have to see what he left behind,” Gilbert explained.

“No,” Ivan resounded.

“But I have to,” Gilbert told him.

“I said no way,” Ivan retorted putting his foot down firmly for once with his words.

It was the first time the brothers really were at odds.  Had there been more room and time, they might have come to blows.  Exhaustion set in quicker for Ivan and he shrugged his shoulders, dismissingly, “Whatever.”

“I’m only following my gift,” Gilbert assured him, “I wouldn’t go otherwise.”

“You’re gift.  My gift of healing you.  These gifts we didn’t ask for.  The hearing loss we didn’t ask for.  We’re screwed Gilbert.  So go ahead.  Just go.”

“Thanks for that,” Gilbert told him.

“Be careful,” Ivan younger, but more protective warned and softened to his brother.  Now weary and tired from their time on the run, his stomach growling and his thoughts drifting to his parents and home.  He wanted to go home so badly.  But he knew it was an impossible dream.

Gilbert looked both ways, as if a child crossing the street for the first time.  Back and forth his head went, as if, he was watching a deranged warp speed tennis match.  He tried to look both ways before stepping out of the cave but this was not a warning to a child from his parents anymore this was a game where people died.

The forest was quiet, as it used to be on summer days, except for the pattering of the occasional wildlife or the flapping of birds’ wings, it was silent.  His thoughts traced back to easier days.  But the metal object held his attention.

Ivan regained his strength and found a second wind, strong enough to muster himself up and follow his brother out in the light and out of that dreadful cave.

Soon, he was by Gilbert’s side both boys eyeing the shiny object, now dulling as the sun quickly faded out of the earth’s reach.

It was familiar.  The shape, the design, the meaning, it was home in many ways for the believer.  It was something the boys had seen many times before in church.

A gold crucifix.  The Lazarus man had left behind a gold crucifix or perhaps he dropped it.

Either way, Gilbert felt the need to see it up close.  He reached down, crouching and grasped for the crucifix, for a memory of his savior.

“Ouch,” he yelped the moment he tried to touch it.

“My hand….it’s on fire.”

He held tightly onto his hand, as though trying to smother invisible flames.

“What happened?” Ivan inquired, worried.

“I don’t know,” Gilbert told him, “I tried to pick it up and it burned my hand.”

“Let me try,” Ivan announced before his brother could stop him.

He reached for the crucifix and yelped in terror the minute his skin touched it.

He stared at his hand in amazement, it seared like the summer he accidentally touched the barbecue grill.

“My hand…it feels like it’s on fire.”

“Maybe it’s evil,” Gilbert offered.

Ivan thought about it.

“It probably was buried with the Lazarus man.”

“But remember he said he was from hell,” Gilbert reminded Ivan.

“Yeah but maybe the Lazarus man or whoever buried him didn’t think he was going to hell.”

“But he left it behind for us, I think,” Gilbert offered.

“Maybe it was burning him too.  Maybe he couldn’t carry it.”

“Nope.  He would have ditched it days ago.  It must be important.”

Gilbert tore off a piece of his open button down shirt and carefully, without touching the crucifix, wrapped it up.

“There,” he announced.

He let the flaps of the cotton fall open.  Both boys stared at the crucifix on the ground.

“On the count of three we try again,” Gilbert said.

“Okay,” Ivan hesitantly agreed, after all they never sinned except for a few white lies.  They weren’t really candidates for hell.

“One…Two…Three,” Gilbert counted.

The boys took their fingers to the metal cross and this time they felt a pain like none other.  They quickly retreated with their fingers.

“Maybe we should leave it behind,” Ivan told Gilbert.

“No, it’s important I told you.”

“It’s cursed.  It’s gotta be.  Leave it brother.”

“No,” Gilbert demanded.

Ivan sat back on the ground.  The leaves were slightly damp and rather uncomfortable now.

“Remember what the Lazarus man said about choosing sides….loyalty.”

“Yeah,” Gilbert agreed, “maybe this is how we tell.”

“I think only Dylan Dempster can touch it.”

“I believe you’re right,” Gilbert smiled.

“Maybe once we get this cross to him, this will be over,” Ivan said.

“Finally, we have something to live for.  Come on.  We’ve got to find him.  Soon.  Maybe we can save Cotter.”

“Maybe,” Ivan replied, listening closely to the military aircraft hovering over the town.

BOOM!

“It’s begun,” Gilbert told his brother.

“What’s begun?”

“They’re not going to kill just us Ivan.  They’re going to kill everyone,” he told his brother.

“Let’s hurry Gilbert.  Time to get moving.”

“We’ve got to find Dylan.”

“Yes,” Ivan agreed.

Ida and Gilroy Chuttle sat huddled on their living room couch.  The loud boom was heard all across Cotter.  It didn’t matter where you were at the time of the first bomb it was a sound you could never forget.

“Where do you think the boys are?” Mrs. Chuttle asked her husband, thinking of the terror of the sound.

“They’re nice boys.  So they’re a little curious.  They don’t deserve this Gilroy.  It’s too much for them.  Ivan and Gilbert are too young.  This is a war zone.  A disaster.  We’ve got to find our boys,” Ida rambled.

“Slow down honey,” Gilroy assured her, holding her tight.

Another BOOM!

“They’re bombing the hell out of this town,” Gilroy told her, amazed by his own realization.