“Tell me about Erebos.”
“What do you know about hydrogen bombs?”
“I want to learn.”
“There’s nothing to learn. Erebos undoes everything you’ve learned. It’s not the same science. No one understood that. We took no precautions. We were under orders to create something that would frighten the rest of the world. But what happened was we frightened ourselves until we had to hide all the evidence, but by then it was too late…”
“How was this bomb so different? Harding said…”
“That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about! He’s an academic looking for logic and reason so that everything fits into a natural order of the universe that’s manufactured by more academics and scientists and government officials who want to own and control, but you cannot own and control those things that are so much bigger than the human experience, bigger than our ability to comprehend. You can’t just translate it into a molecular disturbance, an equation on a chalkboard.”
“There was a term for the experiment. Inversion bomb.”
“Yes, that’s what some called it, and then we were told to stop calling it that, the name itself required explanations no one wanted to discuss or believe. The strength of that explosion was so highly concentrated that it couldn’t be absorbed into the natural environment and turned on itself, exploding inward. There was no mushroom cloud, just a small radius of atmospheric destruction. The bomb tore into the very fabric of the universe itself.”
Kelly asked, “What happened…to the men after they were exposed to the blast?”
“Nothing,” said Beck.
“Nothing?”
“I told you, the blast had limited scope. It was what happened later. There was a hole in the atmosphere like a gaping wound. The impact perforated a wall to a fourth spatial dimension. The real danger existed on the other side. We had blasted a portal to hell itself.”
The statement seized Kelly. She allowed it to sink in as a trembling rippled across her body. “There were men who went crazy. They were taken away and locked up. What happened to them?”
“In those early weeks, we didn’t know what we had done,” said Beck. “After the blast, several men explored the area and ventured too close. They entered the precise point of impact. To the naked eye, it looked untouched, a small area of ocean. Then they entered a gateway. A gateway to the other side. Six men were sucked in. They experienced a violent storm filled with terrible faces, the collective force of every evil soul purged from a life on earth. These men returned to land, but they were never the same. They belonged to Satan. They emerged as disciples of the devil.”
“Rodney,” gasped Kelly. She told Beck about the vacation experience, the fishing trip and the four people who returned with changed personalities. “It must’ve been this portal,” she said. “It’s everything you described. He was good and it made him evil.”
Beck shook his head. “Not exactly. You don’t just change like the flip of a switch. Evil isn’t created in a vacuum. The demons tapped into an evil already present but not manifested and spread it like an aggressive cancer. The potential for evil lies dormant in all of us. The men in 1962 who entered that vortex turned evil in ways that exploited their personal vulnerabilities, areas where evil could find an entrance, like a weak spot, a chink in the armor of their human decency. It grew from there over a course of months until the evil consumed every living aspect of their being. I knew these men before and after their experience. I understood why they had to be taken away from their loved ones and locked up, in some cases declared dead to avoid discovery in their changed state. I looked into the eyes of one of these men six months after he entered the portal. He had been one of my closest friends, but now when I looked at him, when I looked into his eyes, I could only see the essence of pure evil.”
Kelly couldn’t stop thinking about Rodney. “I don’t believe this exploited an existing weakness. My husband was a good person in every possible way. As a husband, a father and a bringer of law and order to his community. The number of people he helped, the lives he changed…”
“I’m sorry,” said Beck. “But your husband was not unique. It’s part of the human condition. Elements of evil live inside all of us to various degrees.”
“So no one is immune? No one?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then who?”
“The only ones who are immune are the very young. The children. They start out pure at heart, not yet tainted by the temptation of sin. A human life does not enter this world embracing sadism or cruelty or the desire to commit crimes of greed and lust. They are born good and grow to inherit these traits, shaped by everything around them.”
“Only children…?”
“Only the very young. The strongest power of good rests with them, not us.”
Kelly sank back in her chair, overwhelmed by the conversation, exhausted by the past 24 hours. Beck looked at her, a twinkle of empathy in his eyes.
She wanted so badly for him to be crazy, irrelevant.
But everything he said slid into place.
“Your husband’s soul has been contaminated, but, to a lesser degree, we are all contaminated,” said Beck. “We all do battle with sinful desires. All of us, every day, from continent to continent, do inner battle with good versus evil in big and small ways. It’s part of the human condition. The only thing that saves civilization from total ruin is the inherent ability in most people to reject their darkest impulses for the grace of good.”
“Is there any hope for my husband? Can he be turned back?”
Beck said, “I do not believe it is possible. The men who were infected all those years ago, they tried many things, from electroshock to hypnosis. Nothing worked. I’m afraid it is too late for your husband. It’s out of your hands. You cannot change what has happened. His soul has been taken. My advice is this…as he deteriorates, he will commit acts against society that will require him to be isolated and confined, either in prison or a psychiatric hospital. You will have to accept his fate. You will need to turn him in when there is an opportunity. Your instinct will be to protect him. Be strong. Do not wait for him to get better. It only gets worse.”
She nodded. She wanted to leave the room. Beck had filled her with heightened anxiety and fear. She didn’t want to believe him. She didn’t know why she should believe him.
“How can you be so certain about this vortex, this portal, unless you’ve experienced it firsthand,” she said. “How do you know that’s what happened to these men?”
Beck smiled. “I had an experience.”
“Were you…?”
“No. I am one of the fortunate ones. But I was at sea, a few weeks after the blast, collecting water and marine life samples with a small crew as part of the investigation into the aftereffects of the inversion bomb. We took a boat out near the site of the explosion over the sea, just off the southeast tip of Kiritimati. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. The water was calm. And then, in a heartbeat, the climate changed and turned into something we had never experienced before or since.”
He continued, recalling the experience with fresh fear in his eyes. “We felt a magnetic pull on our boat. The sky began to roar. It was the most terrifying sensation I had ever experienced. We were pulled toward a firestorm. I could see faces in the fire, images of demons. There was another boat nearby, a small fishing boat with a young family—a man and a woman with two small children. They were villagers caught in the same storm. I was certain we were all doomed. The storm swirled like a tornado with giant bolts of red lightning. Then, in a flash, the storm dissipated. The red glow vanished into the sky. It never touched us or the other boat. We no longer felt the pull. The water turned calm. Somehow we had escaped getting sucked into the vortex. I returned to the military base with my crew. We fell to the sand and wept with fear. If we had entered that vortex, I have no do
ubt we would’ve wound up like those other six men who lost their identities to evil. We would have returned possessed. The fishing boat with the young family also returned safely to shore. Their story became folklore among the island’s natives, passed down through the generations. The locals prohibited further access to the area. The site became forbidden. It was given a name, The Devil’s Scream.”
Beck began to roll up one of his sleeves. “Come closer, I want you to see something.” He displayed a red patch along his forearm. “This burn is my souvenir from the experience. A permanent reminder of the fires of hell.”
The sight took her breath away. “My husband…has those same burns.”
“Once you’re marked, it stays with you.”
“How do we prevent others from discovering the portal?” asked Kelly. “We won’t be the only ones.”
“For decades, the island was mostly desolate, a few thousand local natives at most,” said Beck. “But now that they’ve opened it up for tourism… Your guess is as good as mine. If you ask me, they should obliterate the island altogether.”
“What about the rumors of a second inversion bomb? It was in the professor’s book. He said it might still be in a nuclear weapons storage facility somewhere in the United States.”
Beck said nothing for a long moment. His eyes narrowed, and Kelly could tell he was choosing his words very carefully.
“If a second bomb of this nature exists, I have only one word of advice.”
She asked him for it and he responded.
“Pray.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The pounding rhythm of the wiper blades fought the hard splatter of rain as Kelly drove through the darkness, following the piercing beam of her headlamps lighting up the highway. Periodic stops for coffee kept her refueled to go all the way without sleep. She gripped the wheel tight in sweating hands as her mind raced to assemble a plan for coping with Rodney’s descent.
She believed Calvin Beck. To any outsider, his claims would appear to be the ravings of a madman. But everything he said applied an explanation to the strange sequence of events in Kiritimati.
She could no longer think of Rodney as the same man she loved and married and accompanied to the island vacation. His body had become possessed and the man now living in her house was a stranger who became more dangerous with each passing day.
She stacked her priorities and number one was obvious: Christina’s safety.
Kelly knew she had to keep Christina away from Rodney. There was no telling what he might do to her in his deteriorating mental state. In Atlanta, she had called her parents and asked them to watch over Christina for a few more days. She confessed she was having problems with Rodney that needed to be sorted out, alluding to a crisis in their marriage that could be interpreted any way they wanted because they wouldn’t land on the real reason: the devil had taken his soul.
Let them think it’s alcoholism or an affair, she figured. The important thing is that Christina does not return to the house until Rodney is gone.
Rodney gone.
She could only think of one way to do that: turn him in. Turn in the cop to the cops. It was the only way to save him from himself. She had all the ingredients she needed scattered throughout the house—the drugs, guns, merchandise and money he had acquired through bribes, extortion and theft, probably from other criminals. The physical evidence was her lead for getting him locked up someplace where he couldn’t cause any further harm. Once he was detained, she would demand a medical examination of Rodney’s physical condition and a thorough investigation into the present dangers off the shores of Kiritimati. She would pursue treatment for Rodney and the other three passengers on the boat that strayed into the aftereffects of Project Erebos. She needed to contact Gary’s wife, Carol’s husband and one of Sam’s closest friends, perhaps someone from his church. She needed to share her latest discoveries with them. Together they would create a complete picture of what happened.
She recalled Beck’s story of six servicemen sucked into the vortex of the red storm, emerging as “disciples of the devil”, ultimately taken away and locked up where they could do no harm.
Was that also the fate for Rodney, Carol, Sam and Gary? How would their incarceration be explained? Could this be the catalyst to reopen the files on Project Erebos and go public with the devastating consequences of nuclear bomb tests more than half a century ago?
Kelly arrived home under a dark cover of clouds and drizzle as the night gave way to dim strains of daylight.
According to her watch, Rodney would be on duty, should be on duty, but she knew that was not a reliable conclusion. She entered the front door prepared for the unexpected.
The living room was dark, curtains drawn, and she almost didn’t see him seated on the end of the couch, wrapped in a dark robe, hunched forward as if deflated.
Kelly froze and remained near the door in case she needed a quick getaway.
A long moment of silence passed and then he lifted his head to look at her.
“Kelly?” he said softly.
She reached over to the wall and turned on the light.
He gazed at her from across the room. She studied his face. It had a softer look than she had seen in weeks. Instead of a cold, blank expression, he appeared frightened and lost. His eyes looked wet. He had been crying.
“Help me,” he said in a small voice.
She approached him slowly.
He held out his hand.
She grasped it. He held tight.
“Please don’t ever leave me again,” he said in a thin, fearful voice, like a child. He had never looked so vulnerable.
“Rodney, what’s happening?” she asked him.
“I don’t know…”
She felt a wash of relief. The old Rodney had returned. The sickness had lifted.
“I…I asked for some time off from work,” he told her. “I told them it was for health reasons. I’ve been having blackouts. I feel sick, but I can’t pinpoint it, it’s all over…”
Kelly kneeled alongside him. She looked into his eyes. “Rodney, listen to me. You are sick. Something is trying to take control of you. It gets in your head. It’s not just you. It’s also Gary and Sam and Carol…”
“We’re all sick like this?”
“Do you remember anything from the past few weeks?”
“Some. A little. It’s like a dream. I don’t know what I did, or if I’m imagining it. Kelly, did…did I do bad things?”
She nodded.
He looked at the ground. “Oh my God.”
“I forgive you, Rodney,” she said. “I want to help you.”
“I’ve had so many horrible thoughts. I finally called out for God to save me. Kelly, I’ve been praying. I felt so sick inside, I started to pray. I put all of my mind to it, all of my focus. And the more I prayed, the clearer I felt, like a shadow was lifting. I prayed for the sickness to leave me. I prayed for you and for Christina. Christina… Where is Christina?”
“She’s staying with my parents at the farm,” Kelly told him. “I’ve been so worried…that you were becoming dangerous.”
Rodney’s face lit up with alarm. “I didn’t hurt her, did I?”
“No, no, sweetheart, you didn’t. But I had to take precautions. You haven’t been yourself.”
“God will get us through this. We’ll pray together…”
“You need to see a doctor. All four of you need to be examined. A CAT scan, blood tests…”
“I’ll do whatever you think is right.”
“We’ll defeat this thing, Rodney. We can make you pure again.”
“I love you,” he told her in a heartfelt voice. He reached out and they embraced. She sat down with him on the couch, continuing to hold his hand.
“What’s wrong with me? How did this happen?” he asked.
�
��You got sick at the island. When you went fishing, the second to last day, out on the ocean. I’ve been researching the island’s history…”
Rodney said, “The red storm!”
“Yes,” said Kelly. “The red storm. There’s an area of sea off the coast where they detonated an experimental nuclear weapon in 1962. They called it an inversion bomb.”
“Do I have radiation poisoning?”
She hesitated. “Rodney, I’m going to ask you to believe some things that are going to sound incredible…but it’s the only explanation I have.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I met with a man who is an expert on the history of Kiritimati. A college professor who wrote a book. Then I talked to a man who experienced everything back in 1962. What he described…it’s everything that has happened to you.”
Sitting with Rodney on the sofa, she told him all she had learned in the past few days. She described the bomb blast that created an opening to another dimension, piercing the barrier between the physical world of the living and the afterlife of the damned. She told Rodney about the bomb’s shroud of secrecy and denial.
She expressed her fears that a second inversion bomb might exist, locked away in a nuclear storage facility, capable of creating another gateway to hell somewhere else on the Earth’s surface.
Rodney listened in complete silence, absorbing every word, and Kelly couldn’t tell if he was skeptical or simply astonished by the rollout of information that defined his condition and the greater existence of evil.
When she was done, she said, “I know in my heart that you are not an evil man. You are stronger than this sickness. If anybody can beat it, it’s you. We will do it together, through love.”
She reached for his hand.
He pulled it back. His hand was balled up in a fist.
She looked into his eyes.
In that moment, his face changed, like the drop of a curtain. The scared, vulnerable expression vanished, replaced by the cold, hard face she had seen the prior weeks.
He allowed one emotion: he smiled.
Anatomy of Evil Page 15