Project Lazarus (9 page)

“So, let’s get started then,” he began, the crowd before him rapt with attention.

If he ever doubted his ability as a leader, now was not the time.

“You’ve got some confidential top priority material in your hands there and by now you’ve read it.  So, I’ll just briefly go over the facts.  Project Lazarus is a top secret military project on the outskirts of Cotter.  It’s been active for five years now.  The goal of this project was to raise a man from the dead.  Several days ago, this goal was accomplished.”

The hush of the crowd was unbelievable.  They listened with such intensity, flying bullets might really go through them and past them.

One woman, a veteran police officer made the sign of the cross in reaction to the revelation.

“I know it’s a lot to take in here folks.  But let’s get to the what do we do now part.  We’ve been advised to gather these people up.  We’ve already coordinated their whereabouts based the hundreds of phone calls we’ve received.  We’ve been provided special buses, extra handcuffs and chains.”

One man, a rescue volunteer in the audience, widened his eyes, he knew they were out of their league.  Why wasn’t the government here to clean up their own mess?

Drops of sweat started forming on Sherriff Traves forehead.  He was a bit surprised they were still sitting there.  He watched in horror as a few sneaked out, unbeknownst to the others left behind.  It didn’t bother him.  Who could blame them?  The town of Cotter had been hung out to dry.  They desperately needed help.  The people were scared and confused and they were left to pick up the pieces or rather the dead.

“We don’t know how it happened yet but apparently when one man was raised from the dead, all the dead in Cotter were raised with him.  We’ve been told to approach these people with extreme caution.  We’ve been informed that some don’t know who they are anymore.  More than likely they’re searching for loved ones.  You will encounter raised dead people who will talk about heaven or hell.  The goal is to guide them.  Guide them to our plan which is to contain them.  We’ve already opened up the schools, as they’ll be closed until the situation is under control.  Now, I know you all probably have a lot of questions.  Just let me say this before you start.  First, I’ll answer honestly any question the best I can.  I’m not hiding anything from you because I’m sending you out there into the unknown.  I’m going with you and I want us to all be on the same page.  Second, this is the strangest thing any of us will most likely encounter in our lifetime.  But if we handle it calm and patient, we can prevent a disaster here, at least I hope.  Third, you don’t have to be here.  I know you all by name and I know most of you have families.  If you choose to go…the doors are open.  Please, for the sake of the rest of us….do so now.”

Three men in the back row, sheepishly looked down, got up and ran.

Sherriff Traves waited.  A few more stumbled out the door.  His eyes darted back and forth, there were many men and women left.  The room fell quiet.

“Okay then…let’s get on with it.  When we talk about these folks back from the dead we’ll be referring to them as “the living dead”, so when you have a question please refer to them that way.”

“Yes,” Sherriff Traves asked the woman in the back.

“What if we encounter a living dead who doesn’t want to come with us?”

“Don’t antagonize.  I’m being real honest here.  God knows where they’ve gone.  I don’t know if we can collect them all.  The military briefed me and assured me all the living dead will be collected, tagged and contained. I hope they’re right.”

The woman waited.

“I guess to answer your question.  If they don’t come willingly, try to detain them if they’re alone.  If they’re with other living dead, let them go.  We don’t know if they’re organized yet.  We don’t think so.  But the bottom line is we don’t know what they’re capable of.”

“David,” he addressed the thirty-two year old under Sherriff.

“How do we know if they are a living dead?”

“Most of them came out of the graves,” Sherriff Traves paused, gasps radiated from the audience, he wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Yeah, they look normal though.  So it’s real hard to tell.  You’d expect them to be decayed, filthy, freaky looking and stuff like a scary movie.  Not so, they look just like you and me.  The telltale sign is the clothing.  Like I said before, they came out of the grave, so most of them are dressed up real nice.  Look for men in suits, women in dresses and people in strange clothing from different time periods.”

“You mean it doesn’t matter how long they were dead?” Another policeman asked.

“That’s right.  We’ve got living dead railroad conductors walking around out there, living dead eighteenth century kids in petticoats, living dead military men, we’ve got living dead from five days ago to five years ago.  We’ve got every single dead person from every cemetery raised in Cotter.”

“You want them all in handcuffs?” Another voice bellowed from the crowd.

“Yes, I need them all restrained somehow.  Use zip ties, chain, locks, and handcuffs, whatever you want.”

“Hands or feet or both?” Another officer asked.

“One or the other, unless it’s a volatile situation.  We’ve got medical staff out there to help you subdue them.  At least, we’re gonna try that route first.”

“You mentioned putting them in prisons and schools,” another said.

“Yes, it’s all been set up.  We’ve got cages and security ready for you.”

“Is there enough room for all of them?”

“We don’t know yet.  We’ve emptied out hospitals, churches and shelters.  We’re working with what we have here.  Military will arrive to set up tents soon.”

“Yes, when will we have back up?  I mean…when will the military come in to help us?” Asked Dale Cutter, an officer who served with Sherriff Traves and Sherriff Umpton. He was a decorated military veteran and police officer who served the town of Cotter for many years.

“Soon, God willing,” answered Sherriff Traves.

There was a silence now among the room.  It seemed for now, at least, the task was up to them.

“Okay then, no more questions.  Your location is on the back of the packet.  Like I said, all the geographic locations have been surmised from where we have received the most phone calls.  I’m sending you out in groups of five.  Retired school bus drivers will help you with transportation.  We’re all working together here folks.  Now, if you should see anyone suspicious, a potential living dead, pick them up along your way.  Don’t let any stragglers go by.  Vigilance is the key here.  We need to get as many of these folks locked up as possible.”

He waited, while the group looked over their instructions and began to get ready for departure.

“Okay then, no one stays out past dark.  I mean that.  I want everyone back at headquarters by dusk.  And for God’s sake if you encounter real people, living people, tell them to get back in their houses.  Reassure them everything is being handled.  We’ve got to keep people calm and we’ve got to get this thing contained,” he paused looking at the sea of people before him, hoping they could handle the task.

“Alright then, let’s get to it,” Sherriff Traves announced.

With those words, everyone left, prepared to collect the living dead.

They had a plan.  But so did the living dead.

Neither side saw what was coming.

“All hell is breaking loose Charlie.”

Mr. Adams.  Charlie Dempster only knew him by his formal name.  No first name, no familiarity, no chitchat- all of that ended when Charlie brought back the Amazon man.

Mr. Adams was a tall man, very tall, over six feet.  He would bend ever so slightly when entering rooms, it was indeed precautionary.  He hit his head on door frames one too many times.  He was also a lanky man.  Charlie never saw him eat.  Charlie had a strange notion that Mr. Adams was a strange man and didn’t require much food, if any.  But that was speculation for another lifetime.  Mr. Adams wore big spectacles that clouded his entire face, so only the thin bony tip of his nose was the prominent feature and of course the magnified blue eyes behind the glasses.

He appeared very much like the grey aliens depicted on television, although he was not short.  It was his very tall height that made his demeanor threatening.  Despite his thin, unusual appearance, it was his height that made him untouchable.

“Where’s Millicent?” Charlie asked.  They were separated upon returning back to the compound in the woods.

“She’s safe Charlie.”

“I want to see her,” Charlie demanded.  He wasn’t very good at making threats but his temper was flaring a bit and the fear growing inside him was slowly replaced by the survival trait he knew so well.

“Soon enough,” Mr. Adams said.

“But,” Charlie started.

Charlie was shackled to a chair.  Mr. Adams circled him.

He leaned in close, “I don’t think you heard me Charlie.  All hell is breaking loose.”

“I can see that,” Charlie agreed.

Mr. Adams walked over to the wall, switched on the bright lights and then flicked on another switch.  A screen rolled up.  A gigantic window was revealed behind the screen.  

Charlie adjusted his eyes.  Through the window he saw an odd but familiar sight.  It was the Amazon man.

He gasped in surprise.  He thought the Amazon man escaped.

“He’s here,” Charlie whispered.

“Yes,” Mr. Adams responded.

“I thought….”

“You thought what Charlie?”

“Well, I mean I just assumed in all the panic he escaped.”

He stared at the strange wild man.  He spent five years with him.  Five long years.  Still, he was a strange creature to Charlie, foreign and mystical, magical and madness, all wrapped into one.  He reexamined the two missing thumbs.  They were gone.  Yet, the Amazon man remained.  Why?  And Charlie knew why.  The Amazon man held the key.  He always did.

Charlie’s mind meandered back to that day.  The day they took him from the jungle.  The day they took him from his, people, his home and his destiny.  The day the Amazon man had let them.

Charlie thought back to his dying son.  Dylan was too young to die and the Amazon man was the only cure left.

Charlie always had another agenda.  It didn’t involve science. It was purely selfish and pure love.  He snuck his only son in the back of the compound on a cold December night so long ago.

His five year old son Dylan, dying from cancer, his eyes fluttering, closing, shut forever was dead by all accounts by the time the Amazon man saw him.

Even though, no words were spoken between the two men, the Amazon man knew what Charlie Dempster wanted and without even a word he put his hands on the forehead of the boy.  Dylan was the first person in Cotter the Amazon man raised from the dead.  The task wouldn’t be repeated for five years.  Not until now.

Charlie knew there would be a price to pay.

“And I go free?” The only question asked by the Amazon man.

“Yes,” Charlie lied.

The price was steep.

The Amazon man left the jungle on his own free will.  The Amazon man brought back to life the only person he was meant to and his gracious gift was not paid in kind.  Charlie kept him prisoner.  Charlie lied to everyone.  But the Amazon man knew his secret.  He couldn’t tell anyone.  He knew.  He wouldn’t tell.  The scales would tip eventually.  The Amazon man was patient.  The disaster ensuing in Cotter was a result of his patience.

Dylan was ten years old now.  He was alive and that’s all that mattered to Charlie.

Staring at the man with all the power in his hands, the man through the window, Charlie knew the price to pay was heavy.  This was a private war, a truce, an offering between himself and the Amazon man.  The battle had begun.  Had the Amazon man decided to collect?  Charlie wondered.

“You’ve decided to keep him alive,” Charlie inquired, although it sounded more like a statement.

“Keep….him….alive,” Mr. Adams repeated the words.

“You could kill him,” Charlie offered and regretted the words, as quickly as they came out of this mouth.

Charlie was ashamed.  He wasn’t that kind of man.  How could he possibly consider killing?  He knew the answer- it would be the solution to all of his problems. 

His uncertainty turned to callousness in a blink.  He looked back at the Amazon man.  He should have killed him five years ago.  But he was a coward then.  He would do it now.  He would do anything to save his son.  Again.  He would sell his soul.  Not possible.  He already did that. 

He couldn’t stop thinking.  If he made that Amazon man vanish somehow five years ago, none of this would have exploded.

“Yes, that would make things neat and tidy but what about all those living dead people?” Mr. Adams questioned him.

“Huh?”

Mr. Adams stared at him curiously.

“You really don’t know,” he said.

“Know what?”

“What the Amazon man did….”

“No.  What are you talking about?  I ran.  It was total chaos in this place when he raised that man from the dead.  There was a lot of violence and killing, as I recall.  I got the hell out of here.  I can only guess now it was you who got to my home so fast.”

Charlie was angry.  Angry at Mr. Adams.  Angry at the situation.  Angry at his own helplessness.  He was in this now whether he wanted to be or not.

“Are you done?” Mr. Adams asked.

Charlie cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself.  He was acting like a spoiled brat.  This wasn’t about him anymore.  And it infuriated him.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Charlie asked, sighing loudly, admitting defeat.

“Good then.  Let’s review.  The Amazon man did indeed raise a man from the dead.  You oversaw this event, shall we call it.  Now, since then, there’s been a development.  It seems all of the dead people in Cotter have been raised from the dead as well by the Amazon ma.”

Charlie’s eyes grew big.  Could it be?

“What do you mean all of the dead?”

“It doesn’t matter when or where they died, if they were buried or left for dead in Cotter these living dead are walking around the town now, scaring the living shit out of people,” Mr. Adams rattled the words streaming together like a skipping stone on a liquid lake, “some have come back from heaven, some from hell and they’re all coming back,” he pointed to the Amazon man, only a thick glass separating them.  “He did it,” he screamed, the sound deafening Charlie.

“I want to know what the hell happened Charlie.  What would make him do this?”  Mr. Adams questioned, now more accusatory.

“How the hell should I know?  Are you sure it’s him?  He’s doing this?”

Mr. Adams nodded.

Charlie was sweating bullets.  He desperately tried to wrap his head around the information.   The Amazon man raised all the dead in Cotter.  How?  Why?  What had gone so terribly wrong?

“It can’t be,” he muttered in denial, “it just can’t be.”

Mr. Adams swiveled around the chair Charlie was sitting in, grabbed a remote out of his pocket and flipped on a large screen monitor.

Charlie Dempster watched in horror as dead people clawed their way out of their own graves and coffins.  There were large groups of them gathering, communicating and making plans.

“Dear God,” he said in horror.

Mr. Adams swiveled the chair back to the Amazon man. 

Charlie stared at the man behind the mystery, the man behind the dead and saw a man in a trance.

Mr. Adams flipped another switch and the sound from the Amazon man’s room could be heard now loud and clear.

Charlie couldn’t understand what the Amazon man was saying. He was in a trance-like state.  Hallucinatory, without the drugs, he was meditating. 

Charlie was rapt, watching each detail with his own acute attentive nature.  The Amazon man was sitting, legs crossed, on the floor.  He was dressed in all grey, the uniform provided to him by the military facility.  His hair was wild but his eyes quiet, cloaked and closed.

His hands rested gently on his knees.  Charlie peered at his hands.  The thumbs were still missing.  It was him alright.

The chanting was low and unusual.  Charlie, a specialist in linguistics, realized the uneven tonality of the voice.  He knew what that meant.

“Get me out of these damn shackles,” he commanded Mr. Adams who stared him down.  It was a resounding silent no to his request.

“Fine, turn me back to the screen then.”

Mr. Adams obliged with fury, turning the chair so hard, Charlie whipped around once before settling into place.  He adjusted his eyes from the blurriness of his recent unwanted trip.

The monitor was broken into four different locations of Cotter.  He stared at the top left portion depicting the living dead in a discussion of some sorts.  They were gathered in the woods.  They looked back often, so that Charlie could see their eyes, as if, they knew he could see them.  They watched each other.  Charlie saw the sinister look that crossed their faces.  He knew they were from hell.

“Turn me back again,” he demanded.

He watched the Amazon man.  He listened again.  Low uneven tones.

“Again,” he said.

Mr. Adams obliged.

He watched the living dead in the top corner.  They were communicating with each other.  But someone else was communicating with them.

“Again,” he said weakly.