Earth Sentinels Collection

by Elizabeth M Herrera

  “So this immortal being would be stuck here until the end of time?”

  “Until the Second Coming of Christ, I suppose. But this is silly. Why don’t we discuss something more pertinent?”

  Haruto smiled, enjoying the conversation. “Of course. Why don’t you start the next one?”

  Someone pounded on the front door, interrupting the pair’s conversation. The sound drifted into the atrium.

  Father Chong was perplexed. “Who could that be? Excuse me.” He got up, his shoes crunching on the white gravel. He opened the back door, not bothering to close it as he rushed to answer the knock.

  A moment later, Haruto heard a muffled voice ask in an authoritarian tone, “Father Chong?”

  She couldn’t hear the priest’s response, so she got up, going to the side of the doorway, pressing her back against the wall where she caught snippets of the conversation taking place in the living room.

  The authoritarian voice asked, “Is—residing here?”

  The priest answered, “—guest. Why—?”

  “Step aside!”

  Heavy footsteps tromped through the house, moving toward the rear. An electronic tablet blared out a warning. Beep! Beep!

  From the living room, Father Chong called out, “What’s she done!?”

  “Stand back!”

  The footsteps came closer.

  The beeps grew louder.

  Haruto panicked. Someone was coming for her.

  A UN leader dressed in a black military uniform strode through the back doorway, entering the atrium. His entourage of Japanese soldiers followed him. He scanned the area with his tablet, which beeped. He noticed the two cups on the bistro table, although no one was present.

  The atrium did not offer a lot of places to hide. Nonetheless, the UN leader scoured the area, tipping over plants and pots. He glared at the Japanese soldiers. “Why are you standing there!? Find her!”

  The soldiers jumped into action, combing through the house, turning it upside down without regard to whether they damaged the antique furniture, artwork or rugs. Closets and cupboards were thrown open, and their contents pulled out, falling to the floor. Bedding was tossed. A carved chest scraped across the wooden floor.

  Father Chong was visibly upset.

  Outside, the soldiers probed the bushes, parting the sprigs with their rifles, and craned their necks to inspect the tree branches. In the cemetery, they peered behind the tombstones and checked the doors on the crypts to make sure they were locked.

  Unsuccessful, the soldiers went to the only place they hadn’t yet searched. The church. They pulled on the heavy doors, one set after the other, dismayed to find them all safely secured.

  The men returned empty-handed to the UN leader, who was viewing his tablet. He looked up at them. “Well?”

  One of the soldiers said, “Sir, nothing so far, but the church is locked.”

  The UN leader turned toward the house, calling through the open doorway at Father Chong who stood in the living room anxiously waiting for this dilemma to conclude. “Bring me the church keys.”

  The priest wanted to say, “It’s a holy place. Show it the respect it deserves,” but instead, he responded, “Yes, of course.” From the wall, he grabbed the old-fashioned skeleton keys fastened together with an iron ring. He went outside. “Here you go.”

  The UN leader snatched the keys. “Father Chong, you had better not be hiding this woman. If you are, for your sake, you need to tell me now.”

  For the first time in his life, the priest felt his life was in danger, but he concealed his fear. “I assure you, I’m not. I wasn’t aware she was a fugitive until you arrived. I have no idea where she is at this moment.”

  “If we don’t find her, and she returns, you will notify us.” The UN leader handed the priest his business card.

  “But there’s no way to phone or send an email,” Father Chong pointed out, but then glanced at the tablet in the UN leader’s hand. Somewhere, the electricity was working.

  “That will change soon enough,” the UN leader responded before abruptly turning around, leading the soldiers toward the church.

  Father Chong followed the brigade, figuring it was the only way he would be sure to get his keys back.

  The UN leader stood in front of the largest set of arched doors, examining the multiple keys in his hand.

  “It’s the brass one,” Father Chong volunteered, trying to appear helpful, although he knew Haruto would not be inside. The church had been locked for more than a month, but, at the same time, he wondered how she had slipped away without being seen.

  The oversized wooden door creaked open. The soldiers entered the dim reception area where statues of the Virgin Mary, Jesus on the Cross and saints were displayed in the recessed niches.

  They moved into the stately sanctuary. The stained-glass windows cast gemstone colors over the varnished wooden pews. The regal altar stood as the focal point in front of the organ pipes, which were grandly and artistically inserted into gilded, hand-carved lattice panels lining the back wall. Murals depicting scenes from the Bible decorated the vaulted ceiling. Impressed by the ornate craftsmanship, the soldiers stood admiring the handiwork.

  “Find her!” the UN leader shouted.

  The soldiers dispersed like rats fleeing a cat, diligently searching under the pews, and in the balcony, auxiliary rooms, bathrooms and offices, but Haruto was nowhere to be found.

  Father Chong returned home. He closed the front door, leaning against it, overcome with emotion at the recent degradation of his house and the church. This wasn’t the Japan he knew. He replaced the keys on the hook, then picked up the items that had fallen to the floor, putting them back on the tabletops and shelves. He straightened the cushions on the sofa, wondering, Why would they need to mess up cushions? So senseless. The priest stopped for a moment to pray, “God, please help me to forgive those who have trespassed against me, just as you have forgiven those who have trespassed against you. Amen.”

  After the house was put back in order, Father Chong felt better. He made rice and opened a can of tuna fish, then poured green tea into a cup. As he drizzled the golden nectar into his brew, he thought of Haruto, I hope she’s okay. I can’t believe she’s a fugitive. She’s so nice. But how, in heaven’s name, did she manage to escape?

  A woman’s voice entered his mind. You think I’m nice?

  He spun around, searching for her. “Haruto? Where are you? Show yourself.” He could not see the invisible Haruto standing right in front of him.

  But then you would have to turn me in. Right, Father?

  “Hiding from me won’t help the situation.” He studied the room from top to bottom. “Where are you?”

  Haruto wanted to show herself, but was hesitant. The thought of being vulnerable after her run-in with the soldiers ran through her mind.

  “Haruto?”

  His call brought her back to the present moment. To appease this man of God, and realizing she didn’t want to stay invisible forever, Haruto concentrated, envisioning herself becoming physical. But, because she was still somewhat afraid, she unexpectedly ended up materializing as a vivid ghost standing in the kitchen—a compromise between her other two choices: being invisible or being physical.

  Father Chong gasped at the sight of her. “Oh, my God!” He looked like he wanted to run away, but his pride held him in place.

  Haruto examined her semi-transparent self.

  He asked her, “What’s going on?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Have you always been able to do this?”

  “Today’s the first time—”

  “What?”

  “I’m…I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. There have been other things, but this…” Haruto motioned with her hands over her phantasmal body, “this is a first.” She explained, “When the soldiers came, I remember thinking, ‘I wish I could disappear.’ And then I did. The intense fear of being recaptured must have caused it.
”

  “Did you say recaptured? Did you escape once already? You should have told me.”

  “Father, there was so much I didn’t know, and still don’t, that I wouldn’t have expected you to understand what I couldn’t really explain.”

  He calmed down, sympathizing with her. “I see. Well, why don’t you tell me what you do know?”

  Haruto looked at the food that Father Chong had prepared. His tea was growing cold on the counter. “Let’s sit outside where you can eat, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  However, the priest found it impossible to eat while Haruto told him how she had been taken by the soldiers, then transported to an underground laboratory where alien scientists performed experiments on her. And how she had unexpectedly disappeared from that chamber of horrors and reappeared at the Mikos’ temple, but then had to leave to protect them. She admitted his church had been chosen because it was a reasonable assumption the soldiers wouldn’t search for her there, but after she was rebuffed by the locked doors, she ended up on his parsonage doorstep. The only thing Haruto omitted from her confession was coming here had been Bechard’s idea.

  Father Chong agreed, “Yes, I can see why you thought it was a good idea to come here, but, since we now know they can detect you with that tablet, your presence puts me at risk.”

  “I understand, and I’ll leave. This is my burden to carry.”

  Haruto’s statement made him feel ashamed. As a man of the cloth, he believed it was his duty to offer her sanctuary, but it was obvious he held little clout with the soldiers and was unable to protect her.

  The priest examined her celestial form. “Do you think you’re capable of being normal again?”

  “I assume so.” Haruto looked around to make sure they were alone, then she closed her eyes, concentrating, imagining herself as flesh and blood. She would have liked to describe the sensation of changing forms, but there wasn’t one. She simply, and instantly, changed back to her old self.

  Her shift back to reality brought with it a sense of peace for Father Chong, who was much more comfortable talking to a physical person rather than a “ghost”.

  Haruto surmised, “It seems these changes occur by simply setting an intention. Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed, it is,” Father Chong said, trying to appear supportive while secretly containing his worries. He could only hope these supernatural abilities were part of God’s plan and not the lesser power.

  Haruto’s thoughts wandered back to when she had magically left the alien scientists’ laboratory and arrived in the temple garden. With this in mind, she wondered if she could transport herself at will without needing the threat of bodily harm.

  She stared through the atrium glass walls at the courtyard, focusing on a stone bench under an old oak tree, imagining herself sitting there.

  And just like that, she was. The bench felt cool beneath her silk pants.

  Next, Haruto wondered how the outdoor sensations would feel if she were semi-physical so she made her body become insubstantial. With this change, she could no longer feel the coolness of the stone bench, although she could still discern its presence. A summer breeze swept through her barely perceivable form, briefly joining with her essence before carrying on its way. Her nose delighted in the fragrance of the nearby rosebushes, but it was more of a knowing than an actual scent. The surrounding physical forms remained visible, although faint, but the golden light emitting from them was bright.

  Haruto looked back at the atrium. The priest was obviously disturbed by her disappearance, but despite this, she saw his soul’s rays reaching to the heavens.

  With her curiosity satisfied, Haruto willed herself to return to her seat at the bistro table, sitting across from Father Chong.

  Her ghostly reappearance caused the priest to lose his breath, but he regained his composure, saying, “I don’t know whether to encourage you or perform an exorcism.”

  She laughed. “Father, you’re so funny!”

  “Well, I wasn’t trying to be.”

  “I suppose that’s why it’s funny.” Haruto had a hunch. “I wonder when I’m invisible or…” she waved her hand over ghost-like body, “like this, if the soldiers can detect me with their tablet?”

  “That would be good to know.”

  “Yes, it would. I’m going to give it a try.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “So soon? What if something goes wrong?”

  “I need to know, otherwise, nowhere is safe.”

  “I suppose you’re right. No time like the present.” His words belied his concern for her safety.

  Haruto concentrated, thinking about the UN leader who had just trashed the place looking for her. A scene appeared in her mind. She saw a Japanese soldier driving a roofless Humvee while the UN leader rode in the passenger seat holding his tablet, scanning the air for rogue DNA as they drove down a desolate street. Soldiers sat in the back of the vehicle keeping an eye out for anyone who dared to step outside.

  Since she knew where to find the UN leader who held the tablet, it was time to test her theory.

  Haruto made herself invisible, and then transported herself to the Humvee, hunching between the front seats above the flat metal console, ready to take flight if necessary. She stared at the UN leader, waiting to see if his tablet would react to her presence, but its light remained green and no beeping sound ensued.

  Pleased, she decided to test the second part of her theory. For an instant, Haruto became semi-transparent. The UN leader glanced over, thinking he had seen something out of the corner of his eye, but his tablet gave him no indication of the mutant intruder. The lack of detection made him disregard his gut instinct.

  With the first two tests completed, Haruto had one more to perform. Despite being scared, she allowed her body to become physical for a split second before becoming invisible again.

  The UN leader jerked his head around, but the space between the seats was empty.

  Unseen, Haruto anxiously waited for the tablet to respond. The small green light at the top changed to blinking red. A warning sound blared. Beep! Beep!

  The driver stomped on the brake pedal.

  The UN leader read the screen’s message, scowling. “It’s that woman. She’s here, somewhere.” He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the interior of the vehicle, sensing she might be among them.

  Haruto came face to face with his ominous glare, but she was no longer afraid. What can he do to me? she speculated. He can’t even see me. Being invisible has made me invincible.

  Now that she knew the device’s limitations, she had more important things to do—like saving Billy. Where are you!? she silently called to her lover.

  A vision of a dingy prison cell presented itself. A heavy-metal door and solid-rock walls sealed the chamber. Billy sat cross-legged on the damp floor. His eyes were closed as if in prayer. His braid hung loose, and his body was filthy. He had lost a considerable amount of weight. Seeing her lover like this broke Haruto’s heart.

  Wanting to go to him, the Miko left behind the UN leader and his band of soldiers, emerging into Billy’s cell, careful to remain invisible. She knelt beside him, touching his shoulder with her transparent unfelt hand. Haruto yearned to transform herself into a physical body so she could embrace him, but she knew it would be unwise to risk being detected by the surveillance camera bolted high on the wall and protected by a rusty cage.

  Billy sensed her metaphysical presence, lifting his head, his dark brown eyes staring through her, whispering, “Haruto?”

  She cast her thoughts into his mind. Shhh…my love. They’ll hear you. Billy had already paid a steep price for trying to protect her. Who knew what else these alien-led soldiers might do to him if they knew she was here?

  Unsure if Haruto was still among the living or speaking to him as a spirit, Billy silently asked her, Did you survive the soldiers?

  I’m alive and well.

  He let out a sigh of relief.
/>   Don’t worry, I’ll figure a way to get you out of here. Trust me.

  I always do.

  Inside the parsonage, an antique grandfather clock ticked at the edge of the living room where Father Chong sat across from the spectral Haruto. He asked, “So…how did it go?”

  “Good news. They can only pick up my physical ‘scent’. But when I’m invisible, or like this, their scanners are useless.”

  “Well, if that’s true, you’re more than welcome to stay here. At least until you find somewhere more suitable.”

  Just then, the lamp on the end table unexpectedly lit up.

  Father Chong exclaimed, “Thank God, the power’s back on! Excuse me.” He got up, going over to the television on top of the antique chest. He grabbed the remote control. The television screen flickered on, displaying a static message that warned the viewers “Martial Law in Effect, Remain in Your Domicile”. He switched the channel, but the message remained the same. He shut it off. “I was hoping to see what was going on out there. God willing, this means everything will be up and running soon.”

  The spell between them had broken.

  The priest remained standing, seeming preoccupied as if he was already thinking about the topic for his next homily.

  At the same time, it occurred to Haruto that she could return to the temple and her beloved Mikos as long as she remained in a semi-transparent or invisible state. There, she could practice her newfound powers in the beautiful meditation garden until she figured out a way to save Billy. “Father, you have been a gracious host, but I must be going.” She stood up.

  He seemed genuinely disappointed. “I will miss our conversations. Please come to visit me from time to time. We’ll have tea.”

  His warm words made Haruto feel as if she had made a true friend. She replied, “I will. And thank you for your hospitality.”

  Gentle rays of the morning light filtered through the temple window, falling over Haruto’s face as she lay sleeping on a padded mat, her head resting on a silk pillow. A simple cotton blanket covered her body. She woke up slowly, listening to the birds greet the sun. It felt good to be home. She had decided to sleep in her own bedroom, which served as her healing room during the day, because, with Billy away, the curator’s house painfully reminded her of his absence.