“I’ve got to see to a few of these other folks,” said the Doc. “You gonna stick around a while?”
“Well, I did have a hot date tonight, but I guess I could cancel.”
The doctor and Shaun blinked at David before Doc Ward grinned and turned away.
“Whew,” said David. “Almost thought your sense of humor died along with the rest of the world.”
Shaun still didn’t smile. His sleepless eyes were bloodshot, bruised-looking rings smudged beneath them. His hair was disheveled, his skin pale. A thin fuzz of beard growth showed on his chin and upper lip. David thought he was a handsome kid, and his comment about the rest of the world dying came back to him with a stab at the realization that the kid had lost his whole family.
Fucking idiot, David thought. “Hey, Shaun, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
He shook his head. The kid’s eyes were troubled, and David had to admit that looking into those eyes, he couldn’t really call him a kid anymore. He was a teenager, and his body was young, but everything he must have seen these past few days had aged him ten years at least … far beyond what was right or just. If God was really up there and in charge, the big guy had some serious explaining to do for all of this.
“So, you went to a Christian school?” David asked him.
“Yeah.”
“So I guess all this talk and craziness the reverend is getting stirred up with isn’t news to you.”
“Naw.” Shaun shrugged. “I know a lot of New Testament scriptures by heart. I know the Bible stories from the Old Testament. I’ve heard people spewing church-speak all my life. And a lot of them died just like the heathens and sinners who never stepped foot in church all their lives.” Shaun leaned against the white wall and met David’s eyes with a gaze weary with anguish, resigned to the new order of chaos his life had become. “I don’t know what to make of Dejah’s ability to heal, either. I do know she saved me from dying a lonely death on a toll bridge what seems like a lifetime ago. I know that she’s been a good friend, and that she risked her life – gave her life – for me. Whatever all that means in the cosmic scheme of things doesn’t make a hell of a lot of difference to me right now. All that matters to me is, as she wakes up, she knows that I’m here.”
David folded his hands and leaned forward in the chair, resting elbows on each knee. He tried to gauge if the kid was in love with the woman, but it was more than that. Maybe a crush, for she was beautiful, now that she’d regenerated (so strange to think of it), but he was more like a doting son.
“You’re a good man, Shaun. I respect that, after all you’ve been through; you can sit here like this and talk about it. I saw kids in the war, not much older than you, fall to pieces at the first sign of battle.”
“What makes you think I’m not in pieces?” Shaun said, eyes clouding with tears.
David rested a hand on his shoulder again. A fatherly gesture, he guessed. But Shaun didn’t resist, and it felt right. “Because I see your inner strength.”
“The only thing holding me up is God,” Shaun said. He looked at the floor between them. “Believe me, I question God after all this, and everything that’s happened, but I feel a power inside of me that wasn’t there before. I know it’s Him.”
“Shaun,” David said. “Sometimes people find strength buried within that was always there, just waiting for the time it was needed. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“You don’t have any faith,” Shaun said.
“I’ve seen some pretty bad things in the war.”
“Did God do them?” Shaun asked.
“No, but he didn’t stop them.”
“What war?”
“What?” David asked.
“You said you saw some things in the war. What war were you in?”
“I was in the Army in Desert Storm. Before the official Iraq War began. I flew helicopters in and out of strike zones, picking up ground units. There was a little more to it, but that’s it, basically.”
“And have you lost anything in all of this?” Shaun gestured around them.
“No,” David said. He leaned back in his chair and studied his hands. “No, I didn’t have much to begin with. Once upon a time, I guess, there was a dream, but it fell apart. Not worth mentioning now.”
Shaun made a grim half-smile at him.
That was when Dejah stirred. She groaned.
“Dejah!” Shaun jumped off his chair and went to her side, grasping her hand.
“Doc!” David shouted, a little too loud.
Dejah was startled. Her eyes fluttered open like butterflies on spring flowers. David felt deeply guilty that he was struck at such a time by just how beautiful she was. She blinked at him, confused.
“Dejah, you’re safe, we’re okay,” Shaun’s voice cracked with emotion. Tears dripped from his cheek to the bed.
Doc Ward came over. “Easy, girl, just take it easy. You’ve been through hell and back, now.”
“Ahhhhhhh … uuuuuh,” she breathed, her voice a dry rasp.
“Water,” the doctor demanded. David handed it over.
The doc and Shaun helped her to a sitting position, propping pillows behind her back as they poured sips of water over her lips. She coughed at first, gasped. She groaned and took a few more moments to collect herself. She looked around and seemed finally to take it all in, grasping Shaun’s hand.
“Happy birthday,” Doc Ward said with a grin.
CHAPTER 23
“Ward, I told you to let me know right away.” The reverend pushed his way through the crowd and into the med rooms. Half the church had apparently heard the mysterious woman had returned from the dead, and now they filled the corridor, a din of excitement chattering away. Carson, Kathryn, and Reeves helped keep back the crowd.
The reverend stormed across the room. A handful of other folks who were patients – two of them sick, one of them a very old man who’d done little more than sleep the past two days – stirred at the commotion. The reverend swept past them as if they were invisible. As soon as he laid eyes on Dejah, he fell to his knees before her and kissed the back of her hand.
“Sweet Jesus!” He cried tears of joy. “Dear woman, you are touched by the very hand of God. Brought back from the dead by the Lord himself.”
Dejah blinked at him. She barely understood where they were. David and Shaun didn’t have much of a chance to catch her up on things when the commotion started in the hall. She winced. The light hurt her eyes. The sound hurt her ears. Everything inside of her hurt, and she was hungry.
“I’m the Reverend Lawrence James Keller of the Church of the Risen King. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
Dejah didn’t respond. Her eyes rolled in their sockets, hard to focus just yet. She was lightheaded, dizzy, a little queasy. The only coherent thought she could form was: Who let this jackass in my bedroom? But of course she wasn’t in her bedroom, she was here with these people. Her eyes locked on Shaun. Memories came back to her: Bocadomart, the rolled Hummer, the infected attacking, Frank’s death as he spent his last moments on Earth trying to save her. Tears filmed her eyes. She was a mess inside and out, no doubt about it. But she was alive. And this guy seems pretty damn impressed.
She had no memories of what happened after she was overcome by the infected, just a snap flash of Frank pulling her out from under a cannibalizing mob. She knew she’d been pretty bad off then. She remembered blood. Holding her guts in with one ravaged arm. Feeling blood gushing from her throat, unable to move one arm and leg, both eaten to the bone. Pretty bad off.
And then: Selah … dear God how long have I been here?
She opened her jaw. It caused an aching pain deep in her neck. She couldn’t speak in anything more than a dry whisper. Shaun propped her up and gave her more water.
“No matter, dear. You’re a blessing sent to us by the Lord. A sign of hope. A promise of the dawning of the Kingdom of God! A new world come to man by the righteous hand of the Almighty.”
&nbs
p; A few “halleluiahs” echoed from the halls with a stray “amen.”
“Look, reverend,” said the doctor. “Give the woman some room. She just woke up and she needs some time.”
The reverend spent too long gazing at her as if she’d ascended from heaven on a cloud before him, right here, just now.
“Reverend,” said Doc Ward.
“Sir,” David placed a hand on the transfixed reverend’s chest. “You need to give her some space.”
The reverend looked down at David’s hand on his chest. The look in the holy man’s eyes went from one of divine rapture to indignant fury. “This is my church, sir. You’re here by my grace, and my grace only. I will conduct myself, and the congregation, as I see fit.”
“Here but for the grace of Lawrence,” Ward muttered.
“Pardon me? Do you have some comments, doctor? Do you think this is a laughing matter? That God sends us a messenger — this woman come to us through the gates of death, flesh restored to her bones, life restored to her flesh by the power of his Holy Spirit, a miracle the likes of which hasn’t been seen since Jesus Christ walked this Earth! A modern-day Lazarus is before us, and you take this lightly, doctor?” The reverend’s cheeks were red. His eyes were wild and veins stood out on his neck and temples.
The Reverend Keller swatted David’s hand away. David looked for just a moment as if he might reach out, grab Keller’s wrist, spin, twist, and break the man’s arm. Instead, he lowered his hands.
Dejah saw the flicker of rage leave David’s face and was relieved. Violence wouldn’t help. And, God help them, she could see from the crowd of faces gathered at the door that there were a lot of people here who believed Keller was some kind of modern day Moses sent to lead them through the last days to the promised land. Their eyes were eager, some not comprehending the scene before them but only fixating on the pastor longingly, as if he were Jesus in the crowd, and if they could only touch the hem of his garment, they’d be saved.
And now here I am, she thought. Back from the dead. It was compelling evidence of something supernatural at work. No doubt. A whirl of questions about what was happening to her – and why – were enigmas of the highest order for herself, never mind a crowd of people huddled in a church, thinking the end was nigh.
Not only couldn’t she say exactly what was at work in her, she couldn’t say much of anything in this condition. But her priority was to be understood. Her priority was her daughter. And now more time had passed. More precious time. Her muscles tensed and she felt anxiety quiver in her at the thought of Selah crying out for her from some darkened space, surrounded on all sides by the infected….
“I—I—-,” Dejah’s voice rasped. “Selah,” she managed. “Call.”
The reverend latched onto her words. “Let those with eyes see, and those with ears hear!” Keller proclaimed in a voice honed in the pulpit. “Call? Call on the Lord?” His eyes searched her face desperately looking for a clue, wanting – needing – something more. He clasped her aching hands in his sweaty palms.
Shaun blinked, understanding that the reverend thought she was speaking in some kind of code. That he was trying to translate her words … Selah, for the word used in the Psalms.
“No,” Shaun said, an edge in his voice. “Selah is her daughter’s name. She needs to call her. We need a phone.”
The reverend acknowledged Shaun for the first time. He blinked at the teenager, his face blank, unfeeling, not wanting to understand what he was to this blessed woman. After too long a pause he answered, looking at Dejah. “Of course,” he said. “Of course we’ll get you a phone. But first, let’s get you situated in more comfortable quarters. Carson!” Reverend Keller stood, raising a finger and swiping it forward.
Carson snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”
“Make sure this woman—”
“Dejah,” Shaun said.
“Make sure Dejah is transferred to my personal wing, in the room with my precious Daughters of Heaven.” Keller smiled and Dejah couldn’t say for sure, because she felt so damned bad altogether, but the look on his face made her stomach a little sicker. “You’ll be much more comfortable there, my dear.”
David looked skeptically at the doctor, then met Dejah’s eyes. In David’s eyes she saw sanity, a need to help in the face of dawning helplessness.
Doc Ward said: “Look, Reverend, I really don’t think she should be moved just yet. She needs more care, I need to keep an eye on her and make sure—”
“You can care for her there, Ward,” Keller said in a dead tone. “She’s not staying down here—” he gave a meaningful glance of disgust around the room and continued, “—anymore.”
“Reeves, T.D.,” Carson said. “Escort this woman to Reverend Keller’s personal wing.” The two militants did as they were told. As they gripped Dejah by each arm, heaving her to her feet, pain ripped through her body and she yelped like a wounded animal. Her vision went blank, shot with white flashes before her eyes.
At her cry, Shaun yelled: “Hey!”
Shaun went for the soldiers, but Carson stiff-armed him, and shoved him harshly onto the cot. Shaun looked stunned; gazing at Dejah, mouth agape, he was unsure this was happening. Dejah couldn’t be sure herself. For all she knew, maybe she’d died and awakened in some terrible Wonderland, and Reverend Keller was the Hatter or, perhaps, the Queen of Hearts.
Carson gave David a stern look of disapproval, then glanced at Shaun again, before ordering his soldiers: “Take her upstairs.”
Keller’s lips curled into a grin. A hint of cruelty etched his eyes, which flashed at the doctor, David, and then Shaun, before he saw himself out. The crowd in the hallway parted for him, and the din of people clamoring for his attention followed him away. Others waited for Dejah, carried as she was by her arms, blanching with pain.
When she was carried into the hall the sea of people parted. Some prayed for her. Some prayed to her. Some begged for her blessing or forgiveness. Others wanted to just touch her and were kicked aside by T.D. or Reeves as they made their way to the reverend’s private upper rooms. They wound through the halls leading to the main entrance of the church. She felt as though she were being dragged through a labyrinth. They passed through an archway leading toward what a sign told her was the adult Bible study hall. They emerged onto a catwalk above the cavernous hall that led from the café and commons, past the coffee shop and bookstore, and a children’s play area called the Promised Land in a distant section of the church complex. The crowd followed, and Dejah was lost in a dizzying din of sound, in and out of consciousness.
Finally, the men who supported her reached an elevator. Carson and two other guards controlled the crowd, staying behind on the main floor.
T.D. and Reeves supported Dejah as they boarded the elevator and went up one level. The conveyor reached its destination. Dejah’s stomach swooned.
The brushed steel doors opened on a hallway of plush carpet, gilded framed art, and exotic indoor trees. They took her into a room that looked like she imagined some harem chamber might look – ornate furniture, velvet curtains, silk pillows, canopied beds, and three other women, all of them young and beautiful. They sat up, dismayed, excited, confused.
The two men took Dejah to the nearest canopy bed and lay her atop it, as gently as possible.
One of the women, a stunning beauty with russet hair and brown eyes, approached them in a flowing gown.
“What’s this?”
“This is the Reverend’s new prize,” quipped Reeves.
T.D. stood, dark and menacing, guarding Dejah. Reeves just smirked.
The woman looked down at Dejah, then up at the soldiers. “The reverend told you to bring her here?”
“She’s the chosen one, now. Tough break, Zanine, but I guess favor is fleeting, especially faced with a woman who showed up a ragged piece of meat and became a living breathing beauty again in a matter of hours. Keller thinks she’s heaven-sent.” Reeves grinned. “Who better to sleep in the chambers with the D
aughters of Heaven?”
Dejah watched the exchange, trying to comprehend, trying to pull herself together, but her body insisted on more rest. Her eyelids drooped. She only caught the last few seconds of conversation before the deep comfort of the bed upon which she lay seduced her with its cloud-soft promise. As she relaxed and drifted into slumber, she watched the final exchange between narrowing eyelids.
Reeves wrapped an arm around Zanine’s waist. She pushed him away. He grinned. “Well,” he said. “Maybe you’ll change your mind after you’ve had a chance to accept the new order.”
“There won’t be a new order,” said Zanine icily.
The black man, T.D., shook his head, gripped Reeves’s upper arm and urged him toward the door. “Let’s go,” he said. His deep voice of authority was the last thing that carried Dejah into dreamless sleep.
* * *
“The Daughters of Heaven?” David asked the doc after they’d gone. Only one guard stayed behind, the woman named Kathryn. Carson made it clear he didn’t trust the doctor or David, making the order that Kathryn stay behind a blatant insult — or perhaps a threat — before he left with the crowd. She now stood at the door, watching with a weariness that belied her loyalty to the makeshift militia they’d formed here at Church of the Risen King.
The doctor grunted. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?” David said.
“Well, they aren’t his daughters by blood, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” David said in a quiet tone.
“He can’t just take her away like that, and … and lock her up!” Shaun was beside himself with fury and grief. “We’re on our way to Greenville. We’re just passing through. We didn’t ask to be saved by you people. She just wants to find her daughter, and I ….she’s…she’s all I’ve got left.” Shaun buried his face in his hands.
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