Project Lazarus (38 page)

The storm, while brewing for some time in Cotter, Arkansas erupted like a volcano out of control.  The luminescent sphere burning bright teetered toward the edge of the sky and disappeared slowly like a flame being burnt out.   The sun vanished that day in Cotter.  Darkness replaced it.  And even though there was no light, there was this strange light, not visible but to the human eye, it wasn’t real light like that from the sun, and not artificial though, it was from another world indeed.  Not human, none of this was human.

The humans that controlled the events  in Cotter had given up that control to a very well-known source, the creator in the good book.

The Bible’s in Cotter came out faster than the light that vanquished from its inhabitants. 

The screaming returned.

God had taken over.

The men playing their games fell by the wayside.  The Supreme Being in control would decide the fates of all left behind.

First, was the fate of the living dead.

Their screams of agony could be heard.  This time they were different.  All along, they wanted to return to Hell.  While God was busy saving the lives of a select few, the living dead from hell experienced visions.

These visions would bring one to their knees.  It was believed the children of Fatima, when they screamed aloud were believed to be in ecstasy from the sight of the Holy Mother Mary.  It was later determined by the visionaries, themselves, they had seen hell. 

Would the living dead who desperately wanted to go back to Hell, desire Heaven once they had seen it?  They say you can’t miss what you don’t know.  Perhaps, that is true.

Imagine thousands of souls on their knees begging for forgiveness, weeping at what they had lost.  Seeing the loss was pure hell.  It was worse than any hell they knew.  That light so bright, it was out of their reach, it couldn’t be theirs for they, in this world and the next, had turned their backs on God.

They begged. They screamed.  They cried.

It is said God hears every prayer.  He listens to every prayer.  But how can he hear those who don’t know them?  He can’t.

The living dead who wanted to go back to Heaven were dispersed of immediately.  They were brought back home and taken away from an existence they didn’t choose.

Their bodies returned back to ash and to dust and the ground.

Anyone watching this sight would faint at the mere Biblical wonder of it all.  The miracles being performed in Cotter were truly unbelievable.  From time to time, we all wonder what it might be like to have lived during the time of Jesus, the time when he really raised Lazarus from the dead.  We imagine what it might have been like to touch his robe or see the miracles he performed- Cotter was now the place where one might catch a glimpse of the unknown.

Yet, with the lights all out except for a few humans, no one could see the profound changes being made.  They could hear the deafening sounds, the crack of lightning that sounded so frightfully close and loud like a strike of a golden hand piercing the very sky.  They could only envision what was happening when they heard the praising of the Lord, as the living dead from Heaven returned to their rightful home.

They say it’s more difficult to enter Heaven than for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.  The souls caught in the middle returned to the Purgatory, simply the middle, some abyss in-between.  But their human bodies too returned to the earth.

And what of the living?  It appeared God left them alone. Whatever sins, mistakes, rights and wrongs they had committed or were about to commit they would do so on earth.  They would be judged another day.  The damned, still alive, waiting their turn to line up for Hell, didn’t know the true pain of what they selected by their own actions.   You see, we may have a destiny but there is free will for any man and every choice we make brings us closer to our true fate.  Do we choose a life of freedom here on earth to do as we please?  Or do we choose a life as a servant here on earth to gain our riches in a place we know not of?  We can only deduce this is the dearest test of blind faith.  Do you believe everything you read?  It was a question several men and women in Cotter were asking themselves.  For the Good Book tells us the rules of the game and while we may all lose a turn or sit on the sidelines every once in a while we know the players, the other humans whose lives we touch if even for a moment, how we play the game may very well determine the outcome. 

Knowing we are all interconnected, it is inconceivable to ignore the idea we are connected to our very Creator.  Perhaps, we dislike the idea of being accountable.  But if it was okay to kill another it would feel okay and it doesn’t.  If it was okay to steal or break any of the other commandments in the Bible, we should feel nothing.  The words in the Bible don’t make us wrestle with our deeds as much as our conscience does.

It was fiercely dark in Cotter now.  As night fell, there was no difference from day.  And while the darkness forced residents to find flashlights that didn’t work because batteries were dead, antiquated candles lit did the trick.

There was silence and calmness.

The Supreme Being in Cotter wasted no time with the living dead from Hell.  In one flail swoop they descended back to Hell, no forgiveness bestowed, only remorse on their minds as they clawed their way back into the ground, the merciless ground.  Ashes transformed easily to dust but there was no rest for their souls.

Now only the living remained.

For one simple moment that couldn’t be captured in human time, there was peace in Cotter.

The rules of the earth didn’t allow for an easy life.

It would be a fight for survival.  Men did terrible things to survive.  Men did remarkable things to live.  But the greatest gift was to lay down one’s life for another.  It remained to be seen of those who remained in Cotter would bestow that gift.

Dylan Dempster was the sole survivor of Project Lazarus.  Everyone else had returned to the earth.  He had been given the greatest gift of all- life.  Resurrection.  Divine intervention.  All in that order.

For those given such tremendous gifts, there is a price.  Perhaps, they’re tested more and with a greater degree of difficulty.  Such as those that suffer, their souls are tested with a greater degree of difficulty than the privileged.  And as before, Dylan Dempster would have the choice to remain loyal to the God he found, knew and loved or to turn his back on that very God.  Time would determine his choice and his course.

The three men in the room had been driven to an existence of survival.  They escaped each other for the moment.  But they had yet to escape their fates and only they could decide them.  All sinners, in their own ways, they were truly alone now separated from each other.  They had been dismissed by their Creator and put in their place.  They may have controlled what happened to themselves and others here on earth but in this case they had no control.

Of course, Charlie Dempster, the man who had no religion, was relieved his son was granted another day to live.

Commander Henrid’s ego wouldn’t allow him to believe things were over.  He would hunt down the boy.

The Amazon man didn’t question his gifts but he knew when to surrender them to a higher power.  He looked down at his trademark missing thumbs and wept.  They were restored.  He now had ten fingers.  He was humbled.

Each man has a journey on this earth and while these men lived through a war, the war had only begun.

There was order in Cotter, peace, no paranormal, no disorder.  Yet, the plans for destruction were still in place.  And Project Lazarus was still well and alive in the hearts and minds of many men that wanted to know and see the other side, the men who hadn’t seen what the luminescent sphere had hidden in its darkness that day.

God was gone from Cotter, Arkansas, his work was done.

The war amongst the living had just begun.

The confessional was open but there were no souls to save.  Someone else would take care of the human soul and where it goes when we disappear from this place called earth, at least in Cotter.

Father Flannery prayed.  He prayed before the darkness in Cotter.  He prayed when Miranda Winters, the lady in chains at the bottom of the lake, returned from the dead.  He prayed when little Tommy Satirfisk died at age five from cancer.  He prayed all the time which is why he was such a remarkable Priest.

Now at the Cotter Catholic Church, he prayed the silence remained.

Tears streamed from his eyes.  He clutched his Bible in his hands, all the while shaking his head wildly.  Verses from the Bible spewed from his mouth like running water from a river.  He knew them all. And he said them out loud, screaming, in song, frantic in prayer and softly in a trance like state.

Silence surrounded him.  The screams ended and Father Flannery continued praying.

The light surrounded the Church like an endless stream of heat, a gift, a solace from the darkness.

It was over.

Father Flannery grappled to his feet.  Only fifty-two, had he aged in the past month?  The strange thought of vanity passed through his mind quickly.  Yet, a man could age a lifetime amidst such chaos.  Surely, chaos and mayhem were death to any soul, he reasoned.

It was indeed quiet.  It was no trick.  Could it be a trick?  Could the devil be near?  Wishing to pick up a non-believer?  A lonely questioning soul.

The devil was hunting in the wrong place.  Father Flannery had the faith of a mustard seed.  He believed in a God, when most people found it a mild nuisance to do so.  No one wanted to be held accountable.  Yet, based on his upbringing, Father Flannery knew better.  It’s hard to not know God when you have a whiskey drinking father who thinks nothing of leaving you blind from a black eye. 

That was over forty years ago.  It was then Father Flannery found God, a time when most people stop believing he exists.  He never asked why.  He only asked for guidance.  He never begged for his sight.  He simply believed with all his heart it would return to him.

They say when you have an impossible dream in your heat it is meant to be fulfilled.  Perhaps, it can only be fulfilled with God.

When his eyesight returned, Father Flannery, a then young Daniel Flannery believed a miracle occurred and gave himself to the Church.               

When his father left the family in the form of suicide and a note which only begged for forgiveness the very next day, young Charlie immediately forgave him and prayed for his soul.  He comforted his younger brother John and helped his mother Cassandra until he turned eighteen and entered the priesthood.

He never imagined he would witness such a miracle, such a turn of events again in his lifetime.

He gaped and crawled, hobbling his way to the window where the light strewn all about.  He was weak and tired and overcome.  He was in awe.

His once blind eye felt the piercing sun first like a beam that touched his heart.  He peered out the one set of stained glass windows, the only set the Church could afford.  The lights and colors danced around the Church.

Not a soul was outside.  No living dead.  Yet, he could feel a soul, just one.  It was his own soul beating heavily inside him.

The living dead weren’t to be seen ever again.  They were gone.  He knew who was responsible.

The dancing colors made his heart smile and the sheer volume of it all struck him as a miracle

It was a miracle.

This town, torn apart by Heaven and Hell, its inhabitants and the dark desires of men who wished to control life itself, had been redeemed, saved.

Father Flannery was overcome with emotion.   He fell to his knees, the hard wooden floor and the tears streamed down his lovely face.  He cried for the living.  He cried for the dead.  He cried for his father.

He cried for this miracle.  For it was without God, there was no chance and with God there was so much opportunity.  Now this was proof. 

He cried out loud.  A yell of release, a cry of pain and anguish hidden deep in him, he cried for the stress and the moment of this miracle of life.

This was a secret the town would keep.  A secret miracle.  Who would believe the story of Cotter that summer?  How could Father Flannery ever look at the people around him the same way again?

We call the shots in this lifetime but God is there.  He is with us.  He creates chances in days and minutes and seconds to the right way of  living, to right the wrongs, to display kindness and charity and hope.  It was God and only God that saved the town.

Every single thing Father Flannery believed in all those years and moments were confirmed, yet, he required no confirmation.  It was God.  It was God’s work.  God loved them all.  He performed this miracle.

Father Flannery, sobbing from joy now, pulled himself into a pew and stared in awe at a man he hoped to meet one day.  A man, according to any survey of the living was considered to be the greatest and most interesting man to ever walk the earth.

The man on the cross, Jesus Christ, didn’t look back at him.  That large wooden and golden cross on the Church wall caught the light for a moment and Father Flannery could feel his heart break for the man on the cross.  He was utterly grateful and empty at the same time.  It felt strange to him.  Then it struck him how do you thank someone you can’t see?

God had saved Cotter that day.  His Son had saved the world.  It was a sign. 

Father Flannery felt Cotter, Arkansas was of great importance to God or this miracle wouldn’t have been performed.

Father Flannery saw the grief though Miranda Winters, as to the damage humans could inflict upon each other.  He knew nothing of the story of Charlie Dempster, Dylan Dempster, the Amazon man and Commander Henrid.  He could only assume God had blessed Cotter.

The Church door opened quickly and a gust of wind followed.  A strange man entered.  The wind behind him seemed to carry him forward.

He was dressed in black and carried a crucifix.  Father Flannery was hesitant at first, he believed in the miracle he witnessed but something about this man didn’t feel right.  Who was he?

“Announce yourself,” he demanded, pulling himself together, wiping away the tears he needed to shed for so many reasons and years.

“Do not be afraid,” answered the man, as he drew closer.

“Who are you?”

“That isn’t important.”

His blazing eyes scared the Priest, who only moments ago was filled with newfound faith.  This man was not someone he wanted in his Church.  How could he think something like that?  It was a terrible thought.  He should be filled with kindness after the miracles he witnessed.             

“I mean you no harm Father Flannery,” said the man.

“Have we met before?” He asked, surprised the stranger knew his name.

“Not likely.”

“Then how do you know my name?” Inquired Father Flannery.

“A miracle has taken place.  I’m sure you already know this.”

Father Flannery nodded.

“I’m here with a message.”

“Are you an angel?  A messenger of God?”  He asked the man.

“No,” he replied simply.

Father Flannery looked at the strange man puzzled.

The crucifix in his hands, disappeared, the moment he tried to bring it Father Flannery.

Father Flannery backed away in fear, “No, you are one of them.”

The man was startled, “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Get out of my Church.  Go back to where you came from.”

“No, please wait.  There is a reason I’m here.  I must deliver this message.  I must.”

The man dressed in black, pulled out a piece of paper folded neatly into fours.

“You have been chosen Father Flannery.”

“Chosen for what?”

“There will come a time a young man will be brought to you.  Two other young men will deliver him to you.  Their names are Ivan and Gilbert Chuttle.”

“The Chuttle boys?”  Father Flannery questioned.  He knew the boys and their parents.

“Yes, now listen to me, the Chuttle boys will deliver a young man to you for safe keeping.”

“What is the name of this young man?  What has he done?”

The man didn’t answer.  He appeared to be in a hurry now and quickly handed the paper to Father Flannery.

He could feel the vibrations and the fact he might disintegrate on the floor of the Church very soon was reason enough for the mysterious stranger to want to disappear.  He didn’t know why he was still there.  That was a miracle unforeseen by anyone.  He dared not tell the Priest before him.

He gruffly placed the paper in Father Flannery’s hands.

“You know very little of what happened here.  You may never know the truth.”

“You mean in Cotter?  The dead?  The miracle?”

“I don’t have much time.  Listen to me Father Flannery.  When they boy comes to you and he will you must do as I say.”

“Who is this young man?”

“His name is Dylan Dempster Father, and when he comes here for safety- you must be the one to kill him.”

Father Flannery was terrified and horrified all at once.

“He was raised from the dead Father.  He can’t be here.  You must kill him.  It is your calling.”

“No,” shouted the Priest, “my God would never ask me do such a thing.  I wouldn’t kill for anyone not even my God.”

The stranger remained still, listening and the Priest continued.

“Why kill this young man?”

“The answers will be made clear to you, as you will meet him many times before this final encounter.  Before you kill him, you will know what he is capable of doing.  That is all I can tell you.  I must go now.”

He disappeared back through the corridor and the same doors he walked in through.

The man vanished before his eyes.

The miracle now forgotten, he could only wonder about the strange message.