The Pestilence (23 page)

Timeline: The Pestilence day zero. Information source: Published interview with Dalia Srour, mother of Samuel Srour. Interviewer: Bill Irons.

Bill Irons: These last few days since the attack must have been difficult for you and your family.

Dalia Srour: These last few days have been the hardest I can remember. I'm leaning heavily on those around me. Samuel has returned my son to me.

Bill Irons: I don't follow.

Dalia Srour: My eldest son who died fighting in the war. He has been returned to us.

Bill Irons: His body? What do you mean, Dalia?

Dalia Srour: No William. As well as healing the sick, Samuel's power had grown so that he could also bring back the dead. My son, Samuel's brother, was killed fifteen years ago and Samuel restored him to us, exactly as he was when he passed.

Bill Irons: So the rumours surrounding the little girl in Jericho were true, he did bring her back.

Dalia Srour: Yes they were. Mariam and I were unsure and thought it best to keep it private.

Bill Irons: Could he raise anyone?

Dalia Srour: Samuel was just beginning to fully explore that side of his abilities before the attack. I believe he said that all who have fallen or have passed leave something behind. The dead haven't truly gone, their auras are still with us. He could if he wished simply pull them from the ground. You know, I guess it may not matter now.

Bill Irons: I understand that Samuel is at the St Luke's Hospital in Jerusalem.

Dalia Srour: Yes, that is correct.

Bill Irons: What is his condition?

Dalia Srour: Well, his medical details have been leaked to the press by someone in the hospital so his condition is common knowledge. His body was undamaged by the final explosion at the stadium; I believe the lightning which protected him from the airstrike acted in some way to shield him from this blast, but for some reason known only to God, it failed.

Bill Irons: I'm so sorry, Dalia. I know this is hard. There are millions who are keeping Samuel in their thoughts and prayers. Is there no hope?

Dalia Srour: Hope exists always in my heart for my beautiful son. He was the best of us, he truly was but the doctors say he has a complete and irreversible loss of brain function. A ventilator is breathing for him. The doctors think it's only a matter of time before his heart will stop. Seeing him like this… it's no life. All I have is a limp carcass of the man who was once my son.

Bill Irons: Are the police any closer to apprehending those responsible?

Dalia Srour: I don't know, they tell us little. Some twisted, murderous cult saw my son as a threat, God only knows why. Now we may have lost him. This may be the end of the man but William this isn't the end of his legacy. Samuel has healed over 150,000 thousand people and those people are every day making good on the second chance they have been given. You know, our organisation which started off when a chef and three veterans travelled to Haran to clear the rubble from my farm is now operating in over a hundred countries. Our projects will provide housing, schooling, social care and poverty alleviation. We will be helping millions. It's ordinary people not just the Healed donating their time, their skills and resources. We are facilitating a connection between those who are willing and those who are in need.

Our management structures are unique, evolving from the Haran camp and have been replicated across all our projects, whether we are building schools or orphanages or painting someone's fence. We're not happy to delegate responsibility to others. Everyone in our projects is active and engaged. The Palestinian Municipal Authority surrounding Haran is now being run on those lines. It's only a matter of time before larger governmental and non-governmental organisations will follow.

The good we are doing in the world won't stop because Samuel may soon leave us.

Interview ends.

***

STEFANO sat in the corridor outside the hospital room where Samuel was being kept artificially alive. He stared at the drab grey wall opposite. He had spoken to Dressler's father earlier that day. It was not an easy conversation. He had to tell a man who he had never met that his daughter's remains were still being identified by forensic officers and it would be days, even weeks before whatever scraps they could find of her could be boxed and shipped back to Germany. The thought of Dressler scattered throughout the stadium and of Ashen still whole, still free, sickened him. Stefano wrapped his arms tightly around himself and doubled over in his chair. Dressler's strength, her refinement and intelligence had been taken from him in an instant by Ashen's merciless drones. Stefano was stuck in a continual feedback loop of pure fury. He crawled over the same merciless desire time and time again; cold, ugly, brutal, revenge.

Mariam slid silently into the empty chair by his side. Stefano sat up but continued staring at the drab grey wall opposite. Mariam was a shadow of Dressler's outward physical strength but inwardly they were similar; strong, powerful and determined. She pushed her arm through Stefano's and rested her head on his shoulder. He felt her exhaustion and the ferocity of her rage seeping through his skin.

They sat together in silence as the hospital staff bustled past urgent and sincere. With his free arm Stefano reached into his pocket and eased out his cell phone. His investigators had mapped Dressler's inbox to his own. He scrolled through to the conversations between Ashen and White and passed the phone to Mariam. She lifted her head from his shoulder and scanned through the correspondence. Instinctively she flicked a wary glance towards the police officer standing guard at Samuel's door. She needn't have worried; he was completely preoccupied with peering into the nurses' station at the end of the corridor. Mariam handed the phone back to Stefano accompanied by the slightest of nods. She was in. Mariam tightened her grip on Stefano's arm and returned her head to his shoulder. They continued silently staring at the drab grey wall opposite wrapped in their all-consuming grief.

***

Timeline: The Pestilence minus 1 day. Information source: BBC World News live broadcast.

Hugh Feades in the BBC World News studios in London: Jerusalem is a city in mourning. The attack by the cult Church of the King of Light on a stadium of almost 50,000 people waiting to be healed has shocked the world. The audacious attack which left 840 dead and 4,100 injured was directed at one man. Samuel Srour who lies fatally injured at the St Luke's Hospital in Jerusalem. For the latest update on Mr Srour's condition we go now to our Deputy Middle East correspondent, Rayaan Khan, who is reporting live from outside St Luke's.

Rayaan Khan: Thanks Hugh. Outside the hospital where Samuel Srour lies close to death, this is a time for prayer and reflection. I am surrounded by thousands upon thousands of candles lit by the faithful who are massing in ever greater numbers waiting on news of the inevitable. Police estimate that over 100,000 people are standing vigil around the hospital. More and more arrive every hour as the news from inside the hospital becomes graver. Samuel Srour suffered a minor heart attack this afternoon. He may not make it through the night and now we understand that the Srour family have publicly stated that they will make a decision at noon tomorrow on discontinuing life support.

I am here with a few members of the public to get their reaction. Can you tell me what does Samuel Srour mean to you?

Public 1: He offered us hope for a better future.

Public 2: We have come to stand and grieve together.

Public 3: He could have made himself rich but instead decided to give his gift to us all.

Public 4: I'm here to show solidarity with my fellow Healed. The love of the Healed community will live on beyond Samuel. Samuel always said follow your own path but he was the one starting us all on that journey. He will be missed but not forgotten and as long as there are Healed in the world then Samuel Srour's legacy will live on.

***

VICTOR watched the BBC News report from his car as he crawled through the Parisian streets. The last person on the omnibus made a very good point. As long as there were Healed in the world then Samuel Srour's legacy would live on. He picked up his phone and dialled his assistant.

“Celine, cancel the rest of my day. I would like you to have my plane ready immediately. I am travelling to Jerusalem. Please have an overnight bag for me at the airport, casual attire not business. Assume I will be away two days. Thank you.”

***

DINA wandered into the living room with her football tucked under her arm. She was tired and hot from her after-school exertions in the garden with her cousins. Her father was seated in front of the television watching the early evening news. Dina bounced the ball on the floor and then against the wall hoping to attract some attention. Rayaan Khan's news report ended with a close-up photograph of Samuel. Dina immediately stopped bouncing her football.

“Baba, is that our Samuel?” she said pointing to the screen.

“It is my darling. He's been hurt. Mummy and I were talking about going to the hospital tomorrow to pray and light a candle for him. You must make me a promise and remember Samuel in your prayers tonight.”

“Baba, I pray for Samuel every night.” Dina discarded the ball and crashed into her father's arms. “I want to come to see him with you.”

“No my darling. It's a long journey and you have school tomorrow. You have to stay here with Tata.”

Dina squirmed in her father's arms bringing her face up to his and blocking his view of the television. “I'm sorry Baba, but the angels are telling me I must go with you.”

“Don't be silly,” said her father attempting to peer around his daughter's obtrusive head.

Dina placed her tiny hands on either side of her father's face once again impeding his view. Exasperated at her constant distraction Dina's father sought to haul Dina off his lap and deposit her onto the floor. He placed his hands under Dina's armpits and lifted. He couldn't move her. Somehow his arms lacked the strength to lift his own daughter. He tried again and failed. It was as if Dina were made of lead. His eyes flicked round the room as the thought that he was having some sort of stroke or heart attack took hold. As his panic grew deeper he shouted for his wife.

Dina pressed her fingers to her father's lips and her mouth to his ear. “Don't worry Baba,” she whispered. “It's going to be okay. The angels just want you to listen to me. They won't hurt you. Look, they will turn off the TV.” Over Dina's shoulder the television screen went dark and the room fell silent.

There was now genuine fear in Dina's father's eyes. “Baba, we must go together and see Samuel tomorrow, okay?”

Dina's father nodded; he was physically incapable of doing anything else.

***

MARIAM was alone with Samuel for the first time in days. Dalia and the others were resting in the adjoining visitors' suite, the ventilator's mechanised rhythm was the only sound in an otherwise silent room. Samuel's skin was flushing slightly so Mariam drew some water into a bowl and recovered muslin from the cupboard. She moved back Samuel's blankets and gently washed his face, moving on to his neck, the top of his chest and shoulders. The sensation of water on his skin or the soft movements of the cloth brought neither movement nor response. Mariam leaned over her childhood friend and kissed each one of his closed eyes in turn; this could be her last chance to say goodbye. The tears falling from her eyes traced a line down Samuel's cheeks and Mariam reached down to kiss them away.

As Mariam began to replace the blankets she noticed that the doctors had removed the bandages from the burn on Samuel's thigh. A faint glow emanated from beneath the hospital gown. Mariam pushed back his garments, her curiosity peaked. The burn was about five inches in length and three inches wide, the patch of skin was luminous white with red angry lines running across it. Mariam stared at the wound, perhaps it was the light, or the early hour, but there was something definitely odd about the scar. The red raw lines formed a pattern and the more she stared, the more convinced Mariam became that there was something written on Samuel's thigh, written in the aftermath of the airstrike, when destruction fell like rain from the heavens and the foundations of the earth shook.

Mariam retrieved her cell phone and framed a close up of the lesion. She readjusted Samuel's gown and drew the blankets over him once more. Mariam settled back into the hospital chair flicking through the contacts on her cell phone until she found the one she was looking for; the senior professor of languages at the University of Jerusalem.

Stefano appeared at the hospital door. It was time. Mariam sent the text. She switched off her phone and gave it to Stefano. He placed it along with his own in Samuel's bedside cupboard and they left the ward together.

***

Timeline: The Pestilence day zero. Information source: Text Message between Dr Mariam Fara and Dr Hana Shihadah.

Hey, Hana. Thanks for your text of support. Am coping as best as I can. Strange request. I came across this and wondered if you could make sense of it. Obviously not Hebrew but looks a little like it, no? Can you let me know?

Mariam

***

ASHEN strode through the Jerusalem morning wrapped in a feeling of smug satisfaction and fulfilment. He skipped down the steps leading to Suleiman the Magnificent's Damascus Gate. Just through the gate was the Syrian cafe. Just beyond the cafe doors was Mariko. Ashen's lip curled at the thought of finally taking Mariko into his bed tonight. He wouldn't be gentle, her stupidity had brought him displeasure but soon the family of the False Messiah would terminate his life and Ashen's divine task would be complete. His prize awaited him through the Damascus Gate.