Project Death: Resurrection

by Danielle Thamasa

  Chapter One

  The excitement died about as quickly as it had arrived in the first place. Josiah’s words stuck with me but I vowed never to tell anyone else about what happened. In fact everything settled into a nice even rhythm with my work and then rare free time with my friends. All in all, things were pretty great. For the most part I was able to forget about the men I saw after that first heal. But at night I could not control my dreams and it seemed that the spiky haired man filled my sleeping hours.

  He never spoke to me, which I often rationalized since in reality he never spoke to me either. Still, each night he watched me, his gaze focused and unwavering. It sent chills through me and if I had to admit it, I actually did not want him to look away. His dark blue eyes froze me to wherever I stood. In my waking hours I felt completely in control, being able to save even the most horrific cases from death, but in the dreams I was powerless to him. In dreams I belonged to him.

  It was yet another thing I did not tell my friends about. How could I explain everything to them? It seemed completely crazy. He was someone I had only seen for a few seconds and yet it felt like an eternity. Perhaps it was even silly to say that I felt safe sleeping while he was there.

  If only then I had understood what had happened with that first heal. For the next several years I threw myself into my work, not bothering to relax at all except when forced. Plus I really did enjoy working. No matter how busy I was, I could not stop thinking of the man who had spoken to me; his words haunted me. What if he was right? What if I had no idea what I had done then? I mean, it had been my first heal outside of school. It could have gone horribly wrong.

  Then again, maybe I was just being paranoid. None of the Leaders said anything about it, except that I had done a good job. The debriefing basically amounted to them saying that I had acted quickly and considering my skill at healing they were certain that the man would have many more years without any issues, providing there wasn’t an accident. The Resurrectors continued to keep the balance, as much as we could. Things grew difficult though. We started to lose charges left and right. Everywhere I went, I heard other Resurrectors talking about what had happened to them.

  "…I'm telling you. He just stood in my way. I couldn't get to him in time to save my charge. It was like I couldn’t even move."

  "…He was in all black, strong and menacing. He got to my charge before I could even attempt to heal her…"

  "…How can one person thwart so many of us? We all know that there has only been one of them at one time…"

  "Tamesis!"

  I turned as I heard my name. Sitara ran up to me and it was then that I noticed her tear-filled blue eyes. "What happened?" I asked her. It was rare to see her in this state though I knew that she sometimes over-dramatized situations. Looking down, I saw blood stains smeared on her jeans. Whatever had happened it couldn't have been good, and it was unlikely that this was one of her acts.

  "I just lost a charge," she gasped.

  I pulled her into a hug, knowing that it couldn't be easy to lose someone you were supposed to save. No one ever took that loss easily but sometimes nothing could be done to save the charge. "Come on," I said as I pulled away from her. "Let's go somewhere private to talk."

  I led Sitara to a room where we could talk and closed the door once she was inside. The room was one of the many lounge areas we had; it had two couches and two chairs, all decorated in bright cheerful colors. This lounge was the one my friends and I used most of the time. Different groups of Resurrectors preferred different lounges and some even like the cafeteria best. Sitara collapsed on the tan couch and buried her head in her hands. I walked over and sat down beside her, wrapping my arms around her. "Hey, it will be all right. You did your best, Sitara." It was the only thing I could think to say.

  She looked over at me, tears streaming from her baby blue eyes, making trails down her cheeks. "There's something going on around here, Tam. Haven't you noticed the increase in the loss of charges? It's the Angel of Death. He's been everywhere, stopping us almost every time." She paused for a moment and closed her eyes for a moment. Then she looked at me again. "How is it possible for him to thwart us this much? There's only one of him and there are hundreds of us. I don't understand it."

  I really had no idea what to say to her. This wasn't my area of expertise. I had never lost a charge, thanks to the extra training I had gone through, and therefore, couldn't relate to how she was feeling. Instead of saying anything, I just sat there and held her, allowing her to cry. I did wonder what was going on with the Angel of Death and all the souls he was taking from us. The past weeks had been worse than usual and the Leaders hadn’t even bothered to make any sort of announcement. After several minutes, she pulled away. "Thank you, Tam."

  Giving her a small smile I said, "Anytime, Sitara. You know that." Then I heard the now familiar tinkling that meant I had a charge in trouble. I looked at Sitara for a moment and stood up. Work came first, no matter how much support my friends needed. "I have to go. One of my charges needs me."

  She simply nodded. "I understand." It wasn’t as if she would think of asking me to stay. We all had a responsibility to our charges, even if we were never acknowledged for what we did.

  There was only one way I could think of to help her but I had to be quick. "You stay here. I'll be back soon." Then I walked out of the room. Before I left to go to my charge I rushed through the halls until I saw Damir walking down the hall away from me. I called out his name and he turned before walking over, a small grim smile on his face and his blue eyes were dimmed slightly. "Sitara just lost a charge and she's really upset. Can you stay with her until I come back? I have a charge."

  He nodded. "Go. We are losing far too many charges now. There has to be a way to stop it."

  "Thanks Damir." I didn't have the time to say anything else to him. Besides, I knew he would take care of Sitara; he was always around to comfort his friends when necessary. Then I went down to my charge. Or rather, my charges. When I arrived I saw a family that had been in a car accident. The car was mangled after having run off the road and flipped over several times. The young twin girls seemed to be the most heavily injured, though the father had been thrown from the car and the mother was slumped over unconscious in the front passenger seat, trapped by her seatbelt. As I went towards them to begin the healing process, a cloud of dark gray smoke appeared and swirled up in a cyclone between me and them. When the smoke vanished the man in black from that day five years ago was standing there, looking at me much in the way he had when we bumped into each other.

  "They are mine now, Resurrector," he said, staring at me.

  I smirked. Maybe it was a little arrogant but I was not like the others he had beaten. "No, not yet" I countered.

  At my comment he chuckled and pulled off the hood of his cloak to reveal startling blond hair. Somehow I had not expected that from someone on the side of Death. "You can't get to your charges. No one ever can. You've lost." Then he turned and walked over to the father who was laying on the ground several feet away from the car. He waved his arm over the father, who then began to convulse. Moments later he stopped moving and I watched his soul—a translucent shadow figure that looked more like a blob than a person--separate from his body and rise up. The man in black waved his hand and the father's soul disappeared. Looking at me, the man in black said, "You can't move any closer than you already are."

  In that he was correct. I tried to step towards my charges but found my feet were frozen to the ground. It was certainly problematic but it didn’t mean that I had lost. Far from it, actually. I glared at him, getting frustrated with his superior attitude. "I don't need to move." I held my right hand up in the direction of the twin girls.

  The man in black laughed. "You can't do anything from there. Resurrectors need to touch their charge to help them."

  I ignored him. In the extra year I spent in training we learned that I could actually heal from several feet away. It was a little more difficult
but I was determined to succeed. I channeled my emotions into my heal, using my frustration at this man and allowing it to course through me to give me the strength I needed. As I concentrated on the injuries I saw them begin to vanish and that only made my focus intensify. It was working better than I had hoped. The man in black watched, eyes widening in shock. "This isn't possible!"

  I smirked and moved to work on the mother without even sparing a glance at my competition. After a few moments she was stable as well and I let out a deep breath before inhaling once more. Typically Resurrectors were not sent out for more than two or three charges at once. Most needed to rest and recharge between heals. Then I looked at the man in black. "Oh, it's possible; I've just proved that."

  He waved it off lazily, as if he didn't care, but I had a suspicion that he was upset that he had lost. "No matter. I still got one soul to add to my tally."

  I put my hand up, one finger raised. "I'm not finished." This was something I wasn’t sure about but I was feeling pretty good and I really didn’t want to fail, not like this.

  "You're too late Resurrector. I already have his soul."

  I chuckled. "Let me go and I'll prove you wrong." I admit it; my arrogance got the best of me at times. But I had already shown that distance couldn’t stop me. This heal would just require me to draw a soul back from the beyond. I had to at least try.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at me. Then he flicked a finger and I found I could move my feet again. "This should be amusing. I just want to watch you fail," he sneered.

  I rushed over to the father, placing my right hand on his heart and the left on his temple. My eyes closed in concentration as I worked on healing his body and calling back his soul. I had to really dig deep, pulling the reserves of my strength and ability. I was determined to succeed. Though I could feel myself getting a little lightheaded I couldn’t stop. I was getting closer to success. There was no turning back now. The gasp of surprise from the man in black told me it had worked. I opened my eyes and noticed that the father was breathing regularly. The whole family would survive.

  Shakily I stood up and backed away. "I never fail," I said, somehow managing to keep my tone firm, even despite the weakness I felt. Calling the father's soul back had taken a lot out of me, and I only hoped that it didn’t show.

  The man in black turned away. "I will meet my quota of souls. You cannot stop me." Then he vanished in the same cloud of dark smoke he arrived in.

  Slowly I walked away from the scene of the crash and with a thought took myself back to the Resurrector facilities, barely making it to the lounge before collapsing on the couch opposite Sitara and Damir.

  They both looked at me worriedly and it appeared that Sitara’s distress over the loss of her charge was replaced by her concern for me. I would have been touched but I knew that sooner or later she would find a way to bring it back to herself. "Tamesis, are you all right?" Sitara asked quietly.

  I took a deep breath and nodded. "The man in black tried to stop me," I breathed.

  "The Angel of Death?" they asked at the same time, just staring at me. Well that made sense, and I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it sooner. He didn’t seem like I would have envisioned Death so he had to be the Angel.

  "I think so. He failed miserably." I sighed and closed my eyes. There was no doubt in my mind anymore; the Leaders were right about me being uniquely gifted. How else would I have been able to bring back that father's soul after the Angel of Death had him? How else would I have been able to heal the mother and twins without even touching them? That wasn't something Resurrectors could normally do. I had never seen anything like it in any of our texts.

  "How did you stop him from getting your charges?" Damir asked as he used his free hand to brush hair out of his eyes before resting it by his side. His other hand held onto Sitara, keeping her close and rubbing one of her shoulders. Sitara had one hand resting on one of Damir's knees. As I gazed at them I noted how cute they looked together. It was a strange thought considering what all else had happened but I couldn’t control my thoughts.

  "I just healed them before he could do anything to stop me," I answered, not wanting to go into details with them. For some reason my gut was telling me to keep my unique abilities secret. I was already looked at strangely because of my appearance, and because I had to stay in school longer; I didn't need to give them more fuel to add to the fire, even if they were my friends.

  "But Tam, you've never looked like this after saving a charge," Sitara said quickly. I noted that she had said charge singular when I had said charges. She was concerned and I could hear it in her tone. I was lucky to have friends like her, ones that worried about me, but just how deep was that concern? It wasn’t enough to warrant her actually listening to what I had told her. How I wanted to tell them what was going on with me but I was still trying to grasp it myself. It had never been fully explained to me.

  "I'm fine, Sitara. I'm just tired." It was the only answer I felt I could give her. Then I closed my eyes, hoping to find answers in my dreams. But instead of falling asleep and dreaming, all I saw was the image of the man in black, the Angel of Death. We strove to heal people so they could lead full lives; that was our purpose. What purpose did he have to ensure that they died?