Project Lazarus (21 page)

Commander Henrid was no leader.  Not in Charlie’s mind.  He just gave all of his plans to the enemy.  Hell, he might as well have drawn him a map.  Now, he had to get the Amazon man.  It was a difficult task.  But he was prepared to do what Commander Henrid could never really do. 

Charlie Dempster was prepared to save his son’s life.  And where killing Dylan wasn’t something Commander Henrid wanted to do…killing the Amazon man was all Charlie could think of.

The game wasn’t over.

They were gaining in numbers, gaining in strength and the one woman who sought to stop them was losing ground.  The horticulturist, Lydia Harsden, and the group of jail inmates sent to assist her were now under siege.

It appeared the mere presence of the Rowan Trees were indeed preventing some of the dead from being raised back to life. She couldn’t believe the myth was true.  But her eyes didn’t deceive her.  She saw the dirt shifting beneath tombstones, the angry beings trying to get out.  They could not.

With some hope, she dug and dug some more with the now seven men from the jails assisting her.  Although her breaks short, she managed to drink some water and scribble some notes about the mysterious discovery in her notebook.  This was the kind of evidence that made for Nobel prizes.  Lydia, however, wanted none of that.  She was on a mission to save lives.  All her life, she buried herself in the quiet world of plants and flowers.  Now, she wanted to immerse herself in life.

“Get me some more men.  I need more men,” she shouted on the CB radio.

She frowned.  There wasn’t good news on the other end from the prison guard.  His prison had just been attacked. 

“Is there anybody out there?” She screamed in desperation.

“They can’t get out from the ground.  The Rowan trees are working.  It’s stopping them.  But I only have seven men and we can’t possibly get to all the cemeteries.  I need help.  Please help me.”

The CB radio offered nothing but static.  It was the only form of communication.  Only the higher up’s, the people conspiracy theories are made up of, had any right to proper communication means.  Telephone lines were quickly being shut down, even though few folks had land lines left.  That was the last straw in a long beginning of wireless telephones and computers going down on day two.  Somebody didn’t want anyone getting out of Cotter.

No one would live to tell.  If the important powers that be could clean the mess up their way, Lydia Harsden was nothing more now than a scrambling ant in a dying ant hill and she was about to have the hot water drowning the life out of her.

The prison inmate Lydia had come to know only as Joe approached her.

“Nobody’s coming lady.”

She shook her head, “They wouldn’t leave us.  Not like this.”

“Oh yes they would.  Haven’t you watched the news?  That’s one thing I paid attention to in jail.  When disaster strikes, there ain’t anybody you can count on but yourself.  Those folks they get in their private planes and move.”

“I just…” she paused, “I just can’t be that cynical.”

“Why are you doing this anyway?  You made a dent.  I see the earth.  They can’t get out.  The eight of us can’t cover much ground and we’re running out of trees and supplies.  I realize I ain’t no expert or nothing but this is a losing battle.  Why don’t you get the hell out of here while you can?”

“Look,” she stared at him harshly, “I agree there’s no chain of command.  I’m not going to judge.  I’ll look the other way if you walk away.  If that’s what you want.”

“Walk away?” The older man, in his fifties with graying hair, looked at her with disbelief.

“First of all, I’m a lot of things but I ain’t leavin’ no lady out here to fend for herself.  But Ms. Harsden you gotta know there’s nothing out there to walk to.  We’re all gonna die.  If not here, then definitely out there.”

“You’re right.  I know you’re right,” she assured him, “I’m sorry.  Sorry for everything.”

“Not your fault.”

She smiled, “It’s working though…right?”

“Yeah, we’ve been keeping some of these bad dead ones down.  But for how long?  They’re crawling all over this town from what I hear on that CB radio of yours.”

“Hopeless?”  She asked.

“You want me to answer.”

“Yes.”

“No need to.  You already know.  But why don’t you give that CB radio one more shot.  Keep it quiet though we don’t want to attract those suckers.  You know…” His voice trailed off.

The last few hours had been unpleasant for all involved.  They saw the coordinated attack of two prisoners which left them with only seven.  Torn limb from limb with blood and flesh flying everywhere.  It was a sight that made even a hardened criminal like Joe wish there was a God to save his soul.

“I’m going to make that call now Joe.  But before I do…can you tell me what you did.”

He stared at her intense.

“Can I ask you?  I know it’s private and personal.”

“Yes,” he answered.

“What did you do?” She inquired.

“I killed a man,” he said matter of factly, “no reason to plead my innocence now.  I’m about to get judged by a whole different crowd.”

Lydia pondered the irony.

“But I never killed nobody like these people do.  If there is a God Ms. Harsden, I hope he’s forgiving like the one I read about in the Bible.  ‘Cause I want to go to heaven.  I don’t want to be in hell.”

“He is a forgiving God, Joe,” she assured him.

“You know people go around doing bad things like I did.  Think they can get away with it.  Think it doesn’t matter.  They hurt people.  If even their feelings.  They hurt people.  The kill, lie, steal, cheat, commit adultery and prey on the weak.  Ain’t not supposed to hurt nobody because everyone else is doing it right? Gotta be okay.  That’s what I used to tell myself.  But it ain’t okay to play with people’s lives and expect no consequences.  That’s why we die.  God wants to judge us.”

A tear streamed down his eye.

“Would you like to pray with me?” Lydia asked.

He shook his head affirmative.

“For your soul and mine.  Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name,” they both closed their eyes and placed their hands in prayer and knelt on the muddy ground.  Out of the corner of her closed eye, she could see several of the prisoners making their escape.  She didn’t care.

“Thy kingdom come.  Thy will be done in Heaven as it is on earth.  Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil,” she finished bowing her head.

Joe smiled.

She picked up the CB radio, “This is Lydia Harsden I’m in the Chapel Hill Cemetery in Cotter, Arkansas.  The Rowan trees are working.  I repeat the Rowan trees are working.  We are able to contain the dead.  But we need help.  We need more trees.  More supplies and we need more people to plant the trees.”

Both still on their knees, the ground trembled beneath them. 

Their eyes darted about and the thrash of the ground threw them both tumbling, Lydia grasped for her CB radio, her lifeline and clasped it tight in her hand.

She and Joe looked up to another terrible sight and then the sounds.  The man was flailing about.  One of the escaped prisoners was being torn apart by a group of over fifty living dead.

“Help,” he screamed and wailed.

They both sat still on the ground, unable to move a muscle.  Their fate was sealed.

She pushed down the button on the CB radio.

“This is Lydia Harsden.  Forget my previous distress calls.  They’ve found us.  They’re here.  We won’t need anything anymore.”

She glanced at Joe, “God help us.  God help you.”

“Come on,” Joe urged, grabbing her arm pulling her up.  She was stunned by the scene.

“Let’s go Lydia.”

Her legs wouldn’t move, like a statue that had already turned back and become the pillar of salt.  She was dead.

“Come on,” he roared half running now, half dragging her.

“You don’t really know me Joe.  Let me be.  Save yourself.”

A puzzled look came across his face.  It took a while to read her expression.  But it was clear.

Lydia Harsden was a killer and she wanted her judgment now.

“We’re alike.  You know that now.  I never got caught,” she confided.

“But who?  Why?”

“Someone who did harm to my family.  Revenge.  Now go.  I won’t tell you again.  You’ve already been judged by society and you will never be judged by me.  Go.  Be free. Now.  I choose this.”

“Lydia…..” Joe had no words.

The screams were getting louder and closer.

“Go,” she yelled, tears streaming down her face.

Watching the scene unfold, she sacrificed herself.

Joe took off running.  They were moments from reaching her.

The screams that poured out of her weren’t of fear but instead the bitterness and hatred we carry.  He could feel the shame, the hurt, and the denial of love, the burden and the sacrifice.

Lydia would die.  Where would she go?

He was running fast now but he was safe.  The crowd was in a frenzy and barely noticed his departure.

He didn’t look back.  He didn’t need to see her to know it was a strange and desperate world we all live in.  Wanting and yearning for life to be so perfect and yet the beauty hidden in the deepest despair was the imperfection.

Heaven, he hoped and kept running.

Natalie Winston, the reporter from the neighboring town of Mountain Home, successfully crossed the river and landed on Cotter soil.

She sighed heavy.

It was quiet, not at all as she expected.  Chaos seemed far off the horizon.  She waited and listened.  You could hear a pin drop.

Maybe it was safe.  No, she knew better.

Her head whirled with all kinds of doubts and insecurities.  What was she doing there?  Putting herself in danger?  Her disabled brother Dalden needed her.  Her mother relied on her. 

She sighed again.  She knew the risks and the reasons.  She didn’t want her life to go in vain and life simply wasn’t worth living anymore without the recognition she deserved.  This debate never came from the people who needed her just herself.  If she couldn’t have her life the way she wanted it.  She didn’t want it at all.

Life is a gift.  But she was looking to return the gift.

At such a young age, it was difficult to imagine the morbidity of it all.  But she had seen it all.  Abandoned by a parent, left to raise her brother, giving up most of her adult life.  She wanted something.  Something that her guilt couldn’t provide her.  If the world was going to hell, she wanted an end written in glory.  She didn’t want to leave a coward from her family.  She didn’t want to leave them in the real world not the surreal world of Cotter, Arkansas.  She needed them in her own way.  Yet, she wanted something they couldn’t give her.

She had a drive, an ambition, a run for the race that couldn’t be stopped.

Her mind wouldn’t quiet.  Why wouldn’t it still?

She walked the path to the only destiny that befriended her long ago- the only destiny she had ever known.  The unknown.

The rendezvous with her source was impending.  If only he showed.  If only he was alive.

After days navigating the waters and the long path that run along the river, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

What would she do if her source didn’t show?  What then?  Could she chase a Pulitzer Prize without help?  Could she really do this alone?

Alone.  That was a word that seemed all too familiar.  Of course, she could give it a try but at the price of her own life.  She knew that coming in.

She stared at the hill, approaching it cautiously, what might be at the bottom.  She wondered.  She hoped it would be her source.  She was an hour off.  A meticulous girl, she timed the whole thing out and was an hour late.

She thought about Christmas and the year it snowed in Mountain Home.  She parked her car at the top of the gas station on the hill in high school and walked the treacherous roads home in the snow.  She was too afraid to go down that hill in her car.

This hill was scarier.  What hell was in Cotter?  Her reporter instincts started to kick in.  Her source told her the government wasn’t coming to save them.  They were on their own.  A town of dead people coming back to life,.. needing to kill all the living humans in order to make it back to hell.

It all seemed so crazy.  The details were tremendously alarming from her source.  No one could make it up.  Not even if they had a great sense of  imagination.

The hill turned into gravel and she slid, her legs wobbly underneath her.  She used her perfect twenty- twenty vision to her advantage, if there was someone waiting for her in the distance, she would see him first.

To her surprise, a hand waved her on from the distance.  Was that him?  Could she be sure?  Was it a trap?  She knew how they killed and that part terrified her.

So, this was what it might be like to walk into the great unknown, to have crazy faith, as her mother used to call it.  The kind of faith bigger than a mustard seed, the kind of faith that yielded results- the kind of faith she waited for her whole life.

The man waved again and urged her on.  She walked faster now, running almost, paper and pen in hand.  She ran straight head on into a destiny she could never imagine.  The secrets of the town awaited her and she couldn’t wait to uncover them one by one.

She reached him- her source.

He extended out his arms and as unprofessional as it was she hugged him.

“Natalie, thank God.”

“Sherriff Traves, I didn’t know what I’d find here.”

“I’d tell you to go back.  I thought maybe you were dead.  Hell, everybody’s dead in this town.”

“Before we get into it, know that I plan to stay and don’t bother talking me out of it.  I’m here now.  Thanks to you.  I got past the border patrols.”

“I studied the routing for days before I gave you the go ahead.”

“Well, it worked,” she smiled.

“I think right now you’d have to be the bravest person I know.  I always said you couldn’t be bought for a story but girl you’ve got guts.  If you’re looking for a prize, Cotter, Arkansas is it.  Just one catch we both have to stay alive.”

“I’ll try.  How bad is it?”

“We rounded them up at first.  But the prison breaks…..”

“Sherriff Traves…How bad is it?”

“Bad enough for me to tell you to get the hell out of here.  I know.  I know,” he shook his head, “you’re staying.  They’re refusing us any kind of help.  They’ve got that indigenous man from the Amazon holed up in the government facility.  I can take you there.  I think he holds the key Natalie.  He’s pulling the strings.  Government experiment gone wrong.  Very wrong.  The living dead are mostly from hell.  They want to go back.  But they have to kill us all first,” he paused, the words couldn’t come out fast enough, “Sorry, do you have questions?”

“Nope.  Keep going.”

“Like I said, they’ve left us out to dry.  Nobody coming in.  Lots of military planes flying overhead.  But nobody landing.  Nobody is being allowed to leave the town.  I think they plan on bombing the hell out of us Natalie.”

Her face stiffened in horror.

“I don’t know what’s worse dying at the hands of these people coming back from the dead or dying at the hands of your own government.  One thing for sure and I served in Vietnam, death is eminent.  You can’t hear it right now.  But I can feel it in the air.”

She mulled his words and let them sink in and permeate her brain.  He watched the subtle clicking of her mind.  She straightened her being, her mind was made up.  Sherriff Traves felt a bit sad.

“So what’s the plan?  We go up to this facility?”

“Natalie, you’ve got to understand, I can’t get you in there.”

“Can you get me near there?”

“Sure.”

“What about your guys Sherriff Traves?”

“I’ve lost a lot of men.  Good guys.  Volunteers.  And I’ve lost so many citizens of this town.  No one seems to care.”

“I care,” she assured him.

“I know, you’ve got your heart in the right place but it’s too dangerous.”

“The pen is mightier than the sword.”

“Just how do you plan to get your story out there?  You know all wireless communication is down,” he warned her.

“The old fashioned way.  You’re my source and I’m someone else’s.  The story will be written by hand and I’ve already left a safe place to bury the papers in an indestructible box.  You forget I’ve been planning an adventure like this for years.”

“At least they’ll know the truth.  Can your confidant be trusted?’

“With my life.”

“It may come down to that Natalie.”

“I know.  So, let’s get started.  Let’s write this story together.  Sheriff Traves.”

“You’ve always been the best Natalie Winston.  It’s been a pleasure.  Now let’s finish this.”

He pointed to the car, hidden in the bushes, “Come on.”

Together, they got in the banged up police car.  He would get her as close to the military facility as he could, as promised.