Project Lazarus (28 page)

He shook his head sadly, “No.  She doesn’t speak again.”

“Been that way for weeks before you got to here,” Grace confided, “maybe that’s all she can say.  I mean just because they’ve returned do you really think they want to tell us anything?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Woods confided.

“Maybe they can’t,” the girl offered.

“But we’ve come so far.”

“Yes, you have. The rest of us are just along for the weird ride.  Maybe we’re not supposed to know the truth here on earth Dr. Woods.”

Aubrey’s eyes fluttered and she spoke in a soft low voice, “I’ll give you answers Dr. Woods but you’ve got to go now.  That patient Grace told you about, he’s trying to enter hell. And that can’t happen.  He’s supposed to go to heaven.  It’s all out of order and they’re crossing over to the wrong place.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

“You’ve got to go get him back.  He can’t go to hell.  They’re trying to claim him,” her voice became urgent, “go now.”

Dr. Woods hesitated.  Would she be there when he returned?  It was difficult enough to trust humans but he didn’t trust anyone that crossed a line none of us could see only to return.

Was it terrible to not trust a woman who claimed to be from heaven?  Yes, he decided.

“I’ll be back Aubrey,” he said and whisked Grace with him to the patient on the top floor of the building.

A sinister smile crossed the face of Aubrey.  She was fully awake now.  She had sent the Doctor and his assistant to their death.  By the time they got there, the man from hell would be waiting and he would kill them both.

You see, the living dead from hell were growing stronger.  Now they had the ability to con and lie and deceive. Now they could convince the good doctor they were from heaven.

Dr. Woods never suspected.  Things on the outside were bad but he had been protected from that in the building.  He was caught up in his science and world of theories.  He had sheltered himself from the reality of human beings.  Dead or alive, they can fool us, hurt us and even destroy us beyond repair.  A life lesson, some of us were forced to learn.  Now something Dr. Woods would experience, it was shocking for a man who based reaction solely on action.

“Faith,” he announced to Grace, who followed closely behind him up the stairway and through the corridor, “he who believes is strong.  He who doubts is weak.”

Once they reached the room, he motioned Grace to keep close but stay behind him and let him enter the room first.

The man from limbo, or so they thought, was rocking back and forth on the bed.  He was chanting or humming they couldn’t tell.

Soon, he had broken through the locks and the chains, like some wild animal.  The safety measures no longer bound him.

“Dr. Woods, what do we do?”

“Run Grace.  Run.”

The experiment would be over, although he didn’t realize it at the time. 

The wailing from the living dead from hell began and he heard chains snapping all around him.

He took Grace’s hand and began running wildly through the halls.  The dead ones from hell were already coming out of the rooms, tearing down the doors.

“Oh My God,” Grace screamed in fear, “they’re getting loose.”

“Everyone abandon your post now.  Run!” Dr. Woods yelled, manically and frantically everywhere they ran.

They caught a glimpse of one from hell, killing a young girl from heaven.

The ugly eyes met his, filled with hate, the young man leapt at him, “You’re coming to hell with us you smarty pants doctor.”

Somewhere between stumbling and twisting his ankle, he realized Aubrey was from hell.  These beings were unlike anything he imagined.  She had tricked him. 

Running for his life with Grace, he realized there were no answers.  And there weren’t meant to be answers.  He had wasted his life looking for the truth.  But the truth was inexplicable.  There was no truth.  Only the unknown.

It was all so foreign now.  The world he wanted to know, be a part of, he desperately wanted to flee.  He had to save the young girl, Grace his assistant, this wasn’t her doing.  She was caught up in a fate unfair.  He thought of sacrificing himself, so the girl had a better chance of living.  After all, his work was worthless now.

“No,” Grace told him, “come on keep going.  Your work is important Dr. Woods.  We’ve got to get you out of here,” as though she could read his thoughts.

The hands reached out for them, but somehow they outran them.

It was his faith and Grace’s faith, the size of a mustard seed, which probably saved them.

When they reached the bottom floor, they were surrounded by the living dead from hell.

He saw Aubrey out of the corner of his eye, smiling at him like a sly cat waiting for dinner.

“I’ll tell you everything.  Hell isn’t a very nice place.  I’d be happy to show you,” she told him.

“You just did,” Dr. Woods said defiantly, “Satan, be gone,” he yelled.

He was a religious man, something engrained in his upbringing, which suddenly sprang back to life, when faced with death- real death.

The words didn’t faze them.  In fact, they were spurred on by the word “Satan.”

“Jesus Christ.  Jesus Christ,” Grace started saying over and over.

The living dead from hell seemed to writhe and curl and deform and back away.

Dr. Woods saw the reaction, “Jesus Christ.  Jesus Christ,” he repeated with Grace stronger and louder.

They hisses turned to physical grabbing among them but somehow the two broke through the crowd.  The second miracle in his life had just occurred.

He grabbed some chain and padlocks on the way out.  There were plenty in the cabinet.

Frantically, they reached the outside and the beams of light were strewn all over them.  The others inside had perished.  They heard the screams.  He thought about padlocking them inside.  But if one living person died because of his actions, he couldn’t live with himself.

He dropped the padlock and chains on the ground, looked at Grace, she nodded and they ran.

The very dead Miranda Winters sat in the small confessional, her feet tied with chain and heavy blocks of cement, she was a walking statue, when she could walk. 

Father Flannery, now trembling from the news he might bear witness to a man from hell, sat beside her, with only the small wooden frame between them, in the adjoining portion of the confessional.

They prayed.  They waited.

Miranda Winters was killed for another man’s crime, Jim Datchel.  He framed her husband John for the killing.  He was in jail.

Miranda could not fight Jim on earth.  How could she fight now that he was a member of the living dead from hell?

“He’s coming Father.  Why won’t he let me go?  I’m already dead.”

“Perhaps, his soul can’t rest.  Forgiveness he seeks.”

She laughed, almost a wicked laugh that scared him, “Forgiveness, Hah!  That man is evil through and through.  He entered hell now hell lives in him.  I can forgive Father but I’m sure he wants two things.  First, he desires to protect his reputation.  He won’t let you or me get to John.  Second, he wants more revenge.  His ugliness, brought on himself, most likely led to an early grave.  People like that never see it coming until it’s too late.  They’re too busy reaping the fruits of their labor, stealing the lives of other people living off them like parasites…I don’t think they ever feel the need to seek forgiveness.”

“How do you know so much?” Father Flannery asked.

He was unnerved, Miranda was from heaven, yet bitterness and wrath consumed her.

“I wasn’t always like this.  You see I didn’t quite make it Father.”

“What do you mean?”

“My bitterness and anger didn’t allow me into heaven, despite my terrible death.  I am…” she paused, “I was in purgatory.  Limbo.  The kind of place that is nothing and no one all at once, it goes on forever.”

“You couldn’t get into heaven?”  He asked, shocked by the revelation.

“No, because God could see my heart and I couldn’t forgive.”

“Forgive Jim Datchel for killing you?”

“No Father, my feud began long before Jim.  I saw greed first hand in my own family.  It was terrible.  My uncle and aunt never even told me my father died.  They were too prepared to fight for the money, I guess.  He disinherited me.  He was a greedy man too.  Money meant everything to them.  I felt sorry for them.  I guess they weren’t able to earn their own way.  Most people want it easy.  But by then, I didn’t care.  About the money.  I knew it was the only thing that would kill them.  It was blood money.  So you see I saw what an evil greedy heart could do long before Jim Datchel’s embezzlement.”

“I’m sorry.  Maybe you would like to forgive now,” Father Flannery offered.

“I’ve had ample time to do so in purgatory.  I suppose you wonder what it’s like.”

“Yes,” he answered hesitantly.

“Your soul is up for grabs.  You’re searching for it.  No rest.  No peace.  I wander now as I did then.  I suppose I always will.”

“I can get to the prison and try to free John.  Everything’s changed now,” Father Flannery offered.

“He’s the only person in this whole world that ever cared about me.  I could never forget him Father.  To think he has to suffer for a crime he didn’t commit, I think that’s what really keeps me in purgatory.  I can’t let go.  I can’t let God deal with the things Jim did to our family.”

“You know what Miranda?  I believe God is here with us now.  I think he hears your confession and thoughts.  Maybe you didn’t express them before on earth but you’ve been given a second chance.”

“A second chance?” She pondered the enormity of it all.

Could it be?  Maybe God was giving them all a second chance to do the right thing. 

No.  This wasn’t God’s work.  That much she knew.

“No…no…Father Flannery.  This is the work of man not God.  He has no control here.  We have free will.”

“Trust in him Miranda.”

The terror of it all came over her.  It was a free for all.  And someone was coming to get it all.

“Don’t you get it Father?  He’s got my body now he wants my soul.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Jim Datchel, Father.  He’s coming for my soul.  I’m in limbo, purgatory.  I could go either way.  He might be able to take my soul.  To turn me and there’s nothing I can do.”

“Not to worry.  I can prepare you for an exorcism.”

There was a loud thud now at the door.

Father Flannery whispered, “Whatever you do, stay here, you will be safe in God’s house.  He can’t enter.”

Miranda knew he was right.  But Father Flannery wasn’t safe.  She couldn’t let him go through this.  He was only trying to help.  When the time came…she would deal with Jim.  Alone.

Father Flannery was running now to the entrance door of the church.

He dipped his hands in holy water.

He then proceeded to bar the church doors.  In all the years, he had been there, he promised to do no such thing.  His church was open to everyone.  But not this evil.  Never.  Not if he could help it.

He grabbed a small votive candle from the shelf, carefully took out the candle and replaced it with as much holy water in it as he could.

The thud at the door was loud and it continued.

Someone was banging and pounding.  He peered through the curtain window to see the decrepit soul of Jim Datchel, washed out and dead, lifeless really, pounding his head against the church doors, blood was everywhere.

“God help us,” Father Flannery said lifting his eyes to the God he knew so well.  The Supreme Being he prayed to day in and out, every day, for all his years was now his only comfort.

Father Flannery had witnessed the suffering, the lost souls, and the cruelty of a disgruntled and shameful world.  But he always depended on the anonymous God above him for guidance and protection.

Now, the very evil he knew God could slay was right before him.  Lurking in his church.

He ran to Miranda not away from her.   Never once, did his heart tell him to run.

He opened the confessional door, the chains and cement, had left her broken human body curled in a heap on the confessional floor.

“Can you get up my child?”  He inquired.

If only he could save one soul and know the truth of belief.  Know that he really saved a soul, his life wouldn’t have gone in vain.

Miranda Winters would be the chance opportunity no other Priest would ever have.  He could save her soul right then and there.  If Jim Datchel, tried to steal her soul, he could not.  If he killed her, he would send her to her rightful place in heaven.

“Come my child, I will carry you,” it took every ounce of power for him to lift the girl.  He gave up quickly.

It was a grotesque move but upon hearing the window in the rectory break, he piled the cement blocks on the girl’s body and lifted her.

At first, it took all his strength and then out of nowhere, she was light as a feather.  He placed her near the altar.

“No,” Jim Datchel was now screaming, he had come alive.  He was no longer the zombie like man outside the rectory.

“You can’t enter here,” Father Flannery bellowed.

He began dipping his fingers in holy water and doing the sign of the cross over the dead girl’s body.

Miranda Winters appeared to be losing all strength, she was fading, lifeless and giving up.

“No,” the screams began.

He recited the Lord’s prayer and then more scripture, “As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall not fear for the Lord is with me….”

He continued on his voice bellowing.

By now, the footsteps, we’re coming and the man in the robes was about to make a stand.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven…” the words got louder and Father Flannery found a source of strength he never knew he had inside him.  The battle was approaching.  Good versus evil, the oldest story line in the book. 

“Tell me you want forgiveness and you want to forgive Miranda,” he whispered, dripping more holy water on.

Jim Datchel appeared right in front of him, he moved at warp like speed, like some animal from a movie.

“Get behind me devil.  Stand behind me Satan,” Father Flannery yelled.

It stunned Jim and roused Miranda to life.  The thoughts of saving the Priest and sacrificing herself disappeared with a new found strength.  If there was a chance of her redemption, it was now.

“Get behind me Satan,” Father Flannery bellowed.

“You can’t hold me Priest,” Jim yelled throwing himself on the Priest, knocking him over.

“You can’t take down a power such as mine,” he said tossing the Priest aside as if he was a rag doll.

The noise and yelling, the fight between good and evil, seemed to raise more than the dead in Miranda Winters.  She came to life in a most startling way.

“AHHHHHHHHH,” she yelled and Father Flannery and Jim both took notice.

Father Flannery slid to the corner, praying silently to himself.  Something was happening in the church that day.

With her yell, the chains snapped, the cement crumbled and the girl who came in dead, killed and defeated, a lost soul, begged now for forgiveness.

“Father, forgive me.”

“You are forgiven,” Father Flannery murmured, half in a concussion state, half- awake watching the drama unfold.

“No,” Jim yelled, “damn you!”  He screamed at the Priest and lunged at Miranda.

“Leave the girl alone,” Father Flannery managed to whisper before being completely knocked out by a kick to the face.

He had saved Miranda’s soul.  That much he knew.  She asked for forgiveness and she had been forgiven.

“I want your soul,” Jim screamed, “you’re gonna give it to me you bitch.”

“Never,” she yelled, “you have no soul Jim and I won’t give you mine.”

She lunged at him with a wooden, pillar, she tore from the church altar.  The strength of this tiny girl far outweighed a man who could easily over power her and had before.