Project Lazarus (37 page)

The mini tornado separated them and the wind it brought blew furiously amongst the men, until it reached a high fevered pitch and a whistling sound engulfed the men and ensued. 

This is how Charlie always imagined things might be if the dead were really raised.  Biblical, mystical, over the top, the parting of the waters and all- he was living in it now.

Lightning crashed in the middle of the room and thunder roared above them where the ceiling was complete darkness.  The lack of light engulfed the men and Charlie slowly inched his way along the wall, all the while watching the miraculous spectacle in disbelief.

No matter what he did to cross and try to make his way back to finish off the Amazon man, Charlie couldn’t stir.  He gave up and watched the unexpected event in awe, as did the Amazon man, who was grateful yet terrified to be alive.

The Amazon man fell to the floor from fatigue and shock.  Was this force here for the man that tried to kill him or was this force angry at him as well? He rested his head on the floor and prayed it would end.

The Amazon man glanced at Charlie who was staring at the blur of wind rustling between them.  He thought to himself, this wasn’t like the Amazon where you come and take what you want destroying a way of life and taking its life force with you.  The Amazon man knew.  This was the work of a higher power.

The high pitched whistle seemed to hear his thoughts long enough to subdue.

The Amazon man pointed upward and addressed Charlie, “I told you….this isn’t up to me.”

Charlie, holding firmly onto his glasses, for once, didn’t respond but listened to the man.

“I said….I told you….I am not God.  I am not your God Charlie Dempster.”

He pointed wildly upwards, disinterested in the fact the man he was trying to help nearly killed him moments ago.

“This is your God,” he pointed to the Heavens, “do you not believe in Him?  Do you not know Him?”

Charlie Dempster, of course, didn’t believe in God.  He was a man of science.  His beliefs ran so deep, he ceased going to church the day the priest couldn’t convince the man there was a God with irrefutable evidence.

“What is the point of continuing coming to church Charlie,” he told him, “when you don’t wish to open your mind to the mere idea that there is a force beyond our control, perhaps greater than you…greater than all of us.  That is the God I wish you to know.  But you want to debate Him.  I shall do so no longer as I am debating with a conflicted mind that will never find reason or truth in what he can’t see.”

The words were embedded in Charlie’s mind and quickly passed through it once again.  For he had memorized those words long ago and repeated them over and over, it was his last chance at salvation.  He never knew it then.

But now, how could he not acknowledge this force?  It was indeed greater than him.

Charlie Dempster fell to his knees and begged the invisible force for mercy on his only son.

“Please, I beg of you, save my only son.  I believe in what I see and I see you now.  I’m sorry I didn’t before.  My son….Please,” his words trailed off.  The storm settled.  The two men remained on the ground.

There was a knock at the door.

The door opened.  Charlie’s eyes widened.  It was a sight fit of both Heaven and Hell.

There, with Commander Henrid by his side, stood Dylan.  His only son.

“Dad?”  It wasn’t the question that threw Charlie but the quivering fear from his son’s insides that tore him to pieces.

“Son,” he replied calmly.

Charlie soaked in every bit of him.  Beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes, lanky frame and thin smile, if only he wore it.  He hadn’t seen ten year old Dylan in five years.  That was a long time for a father not to see his son.  He had grown up so much.  It mattered but not so much now.

This wasn’t the reunion of a blockbuster movie.  There was no hug.  No happy ending.  No answers.  Only questions for the boy held prisoner.

Charlie managed to scramble off the floor.  The praying was over.  He had to stand tall, face his son like a man.

Dylan’s eyes scanned the bleak cement wall room like an animal caught in a trap.  He fixed them on the Amazon man.  He saw the blood, still gushing from his head from where Charlie had pulled out a clump of his hair.  A battle had ensued between the men, this much Dylan knew.

“Dad- who are these men?  What do they want?”

Father stared at son, silently, with no reasonable answer.  The truth would take a lifetime to explain.

He didn’t answer but instead addressed the man who held his son prisoner.

“Let him go Henrid,” he said.  Not asking, not begging and not commanding.  Charlie stared at his enemy in the eyes and saw nothing.  This wasn’t going well.

“You know how this is supposed to end,” Commander Henrid announced.

“He’s innocent,” Charlie pleaded now, as he did with the Amazon man.

“Please, let him go.  Take me instead.  I’ll take his place.  Will that restore the balance?  Will it?”  His eyes darted back and forth to the Amazon man who shook his head in the negative.  It wouldn’t fix things.

“You can’t,” Charlie roared.

“Can’t what?” Dylan piped in.  His voice was quivering.  “What’s this all about Dad?  Is this why you sent me to live with Aunt Laura?  Tell me Dad.  Why am I here?”

Charlie broke down, falling to his knees, “I can’t.”

“Go ahead…” Commander Henrid offered like a left over piece of bread he would throw to wild birds, “tell him what kind of man his father is.”

Dylan, surprisingly calm now, knew.  Somehow he knew.  Deep inside one always knows the truth, senses the good.  The bad.  The ugly.  Inside he could feel a great force growing and words forming in his mind he didn’t understand or know how to express.

“My Father is up there,” Dylan pointed to the sky.

The three men in the room went silent.

Charlie and the Amazon man bore frozen looks at each other.  They had witnessed something greater than themselves and now this boy was telling them he believed.  There was something greater than egos, lives and control or the fight or the real lack of control by the men and the boy in that room.

The Amazon man fell to his knees.  Charlie did as well.

“Let him go,” the Amazon man told Commander Henrid.

The determined look on his face was broken but only for a moment.

“You’re crazy.  I leave you alone in this room with that man,” he paused and pointed to Charlie, “I was hoping the two of you would kill each other instead he converts you.  Don’t be a fool.”

“You’re the fool,” the Amazon man told him.

Charlie sat dumbstruck but finished something he started mere minutes ago.  Praying.

He prayed ceaselessly.  He knew he deserved nothing.  But his son Dylan didn’t deserve to die.

“Why?” Commander Henrid wanted an answer from the Amazon man.

“I’ll admit I can’t stop the living dead from hell,” the Amazon man conceded.

“Enough,” Commander Henrid dictated, “It must be done.”    

He pulled the boy close to him.

Dylan spoke.

“You’re all talking about whether this man will kill me.”

“Shut up kid, you don’t understand,” Commander Henrid told his prisoner and drew his knife.

“For God’s sake,” Charlie yelled, “you’re gonna slit his throat you son of a bitch.”

“Damn straight.”

Dylan shuddered.  He imagined how it might feel that first cut, slight but deep, ever so deep across his throat until it hit bone.  How long would he suffer?  How much blood would shed?

“Good God. Father what have you done?” He asked Charlie.

“Nothing.  You die a hero son.”       

The Amazon man shook his head, “Not this one.”

“It’s over,” Commander Henrid decided and brought the knife to Dylan’s neck.

“At least let me speak,” Dylan begged, realizing his fate was sealed and imminent.

Commander Henrid was a man of principle and although his lust for blood was cruelly curdling in his veins, he stared at the creature he was about to slaughter and offered pity.

“Speak.”

While the room fell silent, its décor was bland, the wall and floor were stealthily white and cold with a single window.  The men couldn’t see out that window but others could see in and watch.

Natalie Winston had made her way to the window and stood helplessly watching the events unfold from outside.  The man from the picture looked nothing like the crumpled heap sprawled across the floor.  Yet, it was Millicent’s husband, Charlie Dempster.  All the players were there and while she failed to open the door, she mercilessly couldn’t take her eyes and ears off the scene which evolved before her.

It was much like slowing down to stare at the terrible car wreck, you know what you’re in for but you don’t quite know what to expect.

He lowered his knife slightly from the boy’s throat but every time he articulated his words, the knife was so close it nicked him a bit.  It was a small price to pay.  For Dylan Dempster was a young man of God and he had much to say.

“I am a prisoner yet I am free.  I am held for the wrongs of others,” he looked at the men in the room, “and I will die for their beliefs and their wrongs.  You,” he began to point to each of the men, “you and you.  At this moment I declare myself a child of the most high God.  I am loyal to God and only God.  I don’t idolize any of the men in this room or the decisions they’ve made.  I am only grateful that I found you long ago God, as a child when I was ill, as a young man when I wondered why my parents had deserted me and now when I am about to face death.”

He felt the knick of blood drizzle down his neck.  It was warm and thick at the same time.

“I love you God.  Forgive these men.  I don’t know why they feel my life is worth nothing.  I am forever your servant.  You are my only God.  Many believe we come in alone.  I do not believe this is so. I came into this world with you and I will leave it with you.”

Out of the silence was a still voice that all men heard in the room.

“You will not leave.”

Each of the men whipped their heads to the other. No one in the group was a ventriloquist.

Commander Henrid wasted no time and began to slice at the boy’s neck.

A blood curdling scream ensued, as the knife seared through his hand.

He dropped it to the floor and the pain forced him to the ground.

Charlie didn’t even see what happened, he was busy lunging at Commander Henrid.

The Amazon man tried to flee and Commander Henrid grabbed him by the leg, forcing him to trip and fall hard on the floor.

The three men grappled at each other and tried to get off the floor.

The eerie silence that engulfed the room turned into the sounds of a violent struggle.

Dylan Dempster watched the scene in horror and awe.  His sights set firmly on the door that led to his freedom.  He wasn’t about to give the Commander another chance. 

He gazed momentarily at the hidden sky above him and praised God.

“It’s God’s work,” he whispered in the kind of worship only blind faith could truly know.

For a moment he caught his father’s eye, bloody and fighting the two men for his life, something very bad happened along the way to his father, something that made Dylan know it was the time to turn away from his father and run.

Only his real Father could save him.  He had done that long ago.  Today…well, today was nothing but a miracle.

Callously he ran to the door and much to his surprise it opened with ease.  He didn’t hesitate and ran through the opening.

“Hey, wait,” Natalie Winston yelled, having witnessed the battle in the room, the near death experience, “Dylan,” she called out.

“I’m sorry….” his voice trailed off, as he ran, “I must go.”

“What happened?”

“God,” he answered and then questioned, “do you believe in God?”

“Yes,” she confided without hesitation.

“Then go.  Get out of here.  Save yourself,” he told her and continued running.

She had one more look at the boy who became a miracle that day and saw nothing but a peaceful smile cross his face.  Dylan Dempster was saved.

Natalie Winston watched the fight proceed through the window and when she saw the Commander break free first and make his way to the door, she ran like the wind.  If he found her there and knew what she witnessed, surely he would kill her on the spot.

She ran as fast as she could until she couldn’t breathe.  She stopped and looked behind her but the Commander had disappeared.

The room was now empty.  Both the Amazon man and Charlie Dempster had escaped as well.

There would be no bloodshed that day.