Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (17 page)

John returned everything to its place and hefted the coin box under his arm. With his free hand, he grabbed the rifle and awkwardly pulled the master bedroom door closed behind him. He would have preferred to drag Corbin’s dad’s body into the back yard, or even the garage, but he couldn’t justify the effort, or the time. The body would just have to remain in the master bedroom with the hope that the plastic bags and tape would help control the release of gasses brought on by decomposition, at least until John had time to come back and bury him properly. There was absolutely no point in running the body to the hospital, not under these conditions.

John considered locking the front door, but decided against it. He didn’t want to search the house for keys, and he also didn’t want to have to break into the house when he returned. Leaving the front door unlocked wasn’t a concern, because the house was pretty much picked clean of all useful survival things, but the house might serve as a useful rally point later on. If, for some reason, they had to abandon their own home, an unoccupied house like Corbin’s could come in handy.

Adam, seeing his dad’s full hands when he approached the truck, jumped out and opened the passenger door. When John sat the heavy plastic box on the floor at Adam’s feet, he asked, “What’s in the box?”

“Corbin’s inheritance,” replied John.

“Oh,” said Adam, unsure of what to make of his dad’s short response.

John was glad Adam let it go. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about anyone, or anything relating to Corbin’s family. He had reached his saturation point. And to think that he almost killed Corbin made him shiver.
That would have made for a tidy little package
, thought John, solemnly. Not one to leave his son hanging, John said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get home. Will you drive?”

“Sure, dad.” Adam slid over to the driver’s seat and put the Suburban in gear. While Adam drove cautiously home, John took the opportunity to radio ahead to Jenna and ask her to open the garage door. When they pulled in, John saw Jenna standing in the middle of the garage with an oil lamp. The soft yellow light of the lamp failed to illuminate the deep recesses of dark garage around her, but it was a welcome sight to see her, and the light. To John, Jenna standing there, holding up the lamp up in the air, made her look like the statue of liberty, or better yet, an angel. When the truck came to a stop, John jumped out and walked up to Jenna. He wrapped her in his arms, and then lifted her several inches off the ground. He held her long enough to steal a passionate kiss.

“Really, mom and dad, you weren’t separated that long,” groaned Adam.

“Hush your mouth, boy. Don’t upset my girlfriend,” responded John playfully.

“Whatever!” said Adam, as he opened the back of the Suburban and began to unload the bags into the garage.

Once free of John’s embrace, Jenna began to scan the contents of the bags as they accumulated on the garage floor. “That’s a lot of stuff,” she said, with surprise.

“It’s Corbin’s stuff,” replied John. “Speaking of which, how is Corbin doing?”

“He’s doing better, but he’s still in shock a little,” answered Jenna.

“I bet,” said John. “If he saw what I saw, then he’ll probably be upset for quite a while.”

“I know you made it to the hospital, but you didn’t say anything about his mom. Did she make it?” asked Jenna, with genuine concern in her voice.

John shook his head and said, “I’m afraid not. She was pronounced dead on arrival, by a nurse stationed at the emergency room entrance.”

John watched Jenna study his face. Something in his demeanor must have communicated his desire to forgo questioning, so she let the subject drop. “What do you want me to do with all this stuff?” she asked.

“Let it sit here for now. We can put it away later,” said John. “Can you get me a change of clothes so I don’t carry ash into the house?” He tugged on his pant legs and shook ash to the ground around him.

Jenna sneezed. “John, please. You’re stirring up the ash,” she said, and pointed to the shelf by the door, “Yes, I have a change of clothes for you and Adam. They’re right over there.” She stepped away from John to avoid the growing cloud of ash around him, and then went to smooth the front of her shirt. Jenna looked at her hands, and then down at herself, and laughed. Her entire front was covered in ash, thanks to John’s embrace. She looked at John with a sly smile, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What? Hug you? Yes, I did it on purpose,” said John, playfully. “And it looks like you need a change of clothes, too,” said John.

J
ohn couldn’t sleep. He was as tired as he had ever been, but for some reason sleep seemed to allude him.
Well, maybe not as tired as I’ve ever been
, he corrected himself. During Operation Desert Storm, he went ninety-six hours without sleep. He was so tired after the opening stages of the ground battle that he fell asleep on the hard metal surface of his Bradley Fighting Vehicle. It was also pouring rain, which was something that really surprised him about his desert experience, so he slipped on his wet-weather gear and literally crashed on the hard metal surface of the Bradley as if it was a long awaited feather bed. It was the best sleep he had during the entire deployment.

Countless other thoughts filtered through his mind as he lay in bed thinking about the day’s events. It wasn’t that he was bothered by any one thing, it was just that he couldn’t clear his mind. Jenna lay next to him, breathing softly in the way only Jenna could. The sound of her regular breathing was usually enough to put him to sleep, but not tonight. It was as if his body didn’t want sleep. It was as if his mind was telling him,
“No sleep tonight Johnny boy, no dreams tonight. You’ve got work to do.”

John and Jenna spoke privately to Corbin before they retired to their bedroom. When they learned that he had no other family in the area, they offered to let him stay with them for as long as he wanted. They added Corbin’s food to their supplies, and discussed everything with him except the precious metal. John decided to save news of that discovery until Corbin needed it, or he was ready to leave. He locked the box in his gun safe, where it would remain safely tucked away.

John was pleasantly surprised to learn from Corbin that one of the compound bows was actually his, and that he knew how to use and maintain them, even the crossbow. Armed with that news, John gave all the bows and related equipment to Corbin, and asked him to teach Adam and Abby how to use them. Corbin eagerly agreed. John also asked Corbin about the firearms, but Corbin said he only knew about the rifle. John told Corbin he would take care of the rifle and pistol for him, and Corbin readily agreed.

Earlier that evening, Adam agreed to let Corbin share his bedroom. John set up a cot for Corbin, and gave him a large plastic foot locker to store all his personal items and clothing in. Corbin had become, for all intents and purposes, an official member of the Anderson family. John wasn’t sure where that would lead, but he had a good feeling about the boy, and hoped that he could find happiness amid all the destruction that fell upon him when the ash started to fall.

John reached over to his nightstand and turned on the small, battery powered, LED lamp. He stared blankly up at the ceiling while trying to clear his mind for sleep. The book on his nightstand lay still, an orange marker sticking from it like a dry tongue. With that image in his head, reading no longer appealed to him. He drank from a water bottle and turned the lamp off. After punching his pillow several times to soften it, he lowered his head and closed his eyes. He talked himself through a relaxation technique, one that centered on a numbered countdown, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Someone was pulling on his arm. John opened his eyes and saw Eli standing next to him. He was dressed differently than their previous encounters. In this visit, his grandson was wearing loose fitting pants and an open shirt. The cloth was an off-white color, like a very light tan or cream. “Hello, Papa,” said Eli. “Are you ready to go?”

Eli also looked older. The last time John saw him he was about Adam’s age, but know he looked to be about twenty. John didn’t understand how Eli could age so quickly, but he figured he could choose the age he wanted to appear as. John didn’t know what that meant, the
older look, but it didn’t really concern him. Eli was still Eli. “Where are we going?” asked John, as he stood to face him.

“Turn around and look,” said Eli.

John turned and saw himself lying in bed next to Jenna. It startled him for a second, and he wondered how it was possible that he could be out of his body and not be dead. He faced Eli and asked, “Am I dead?”

“No, you are not dead. But where you are going you cannot take your body,” answered Eli, and he began to sing a song. His voice was strong and beautiful, but also mild and still, like an alpine lake “You have a trip to make, a barrier to brake; a place to see, a man to be; a light to draw, a compass to call; a learning true, a work to do. . . Here, Papa, take my hand and come with me,” finished Eli, as he offered John his outstretched hand.

As soon as John took his grandson’s hand, he was lifted high into the air. John saw a bright light above and realized that he was traveling in a tunnel of light. They were traveling fast, faster than John had ever traveled before, faster than humanly possible. It made John dizzy and curled his stomach. He didn’t know how long he traveled with Eli, but during the trip he felt a hard tug at his left foot and he was torn from Eli’s grip. In the brief moment before John slipped and passed through the tunnel wall, he saw shock and surprise on Eli’s face.

John passed through the tunnel wall and found himself falling in a cold, dark place. Having lost his guide, weightless and falling, John called out for Eli. He continued screaming his name until he plunged into what seemed to be cold, deep water. John quickly realized that it wasn’t water, it was too thick, too cold to be water. The cold momentarily paralyzed him, but he swam desperately for the surface, flailing his arms and legs to reach life giving breath.

During his struggle to the surface, John realized there were other people in the water with him. He felt hands reach for him, and feet push against him, as he kicked and pulled for the surface. When his head burst clear, he was stunned. The sky above was a putrid motley
yellow that gave off a sickly pale glow. He also realized that he didn’t land in water, but rather some kind of energy stream that flowed like a ribbon. The stream was red in color, streaked with long bands of darker and lighter shades of red that contrasted with equally bleak streaks of orange and brown. The colors swirled together, creating effects like currents. John looked and saw that the stream flowed off into the distance in both directions. It traveled far into the distance, as far as his eyes could see, as it wound under the putrid yellow sky. There were no banks to swim to, no shores to climb upon, and no rocks to hold fast to. The stream was his prison, and he was helpless to leave it.

While he flowed in the stream, John saw the heads and outstretched arms of countless men and women. He saw no children, but there were young adults. Most people looked to be adults of mixed age, but it was difficult to determine anything in that place. Someone screamed and John turned. A man fell into the stream next to him and immediately sank below the surface. John tried to reach for the man, to help him stay at the surface, but he hesitated. He didn’t want to be pulled under, to be down in the stream again.

John saw other people fall into the stream from high up where the yellow sky began. All of them sank into the depths of the stream when they hit, and all of them struggled desperately for the surface, just as he had done. He saw shock and horror on the people’s faces. A look of surprise and dread at being lost in such a terrible place. John realized he must look the same.

With no hope of rescue, he despaired and resumed calling for Eli. With every scream, his mouth filled with energy from the stream. The bitterness of it made him gag and retch. A deep feeling of dread, of impending doom, filled his heart, and he cried out in anguish. Everyone around him called out for someone, or they wept openly as they tried to stay afloat in the stream. All but a few held a hand into the air, as if reaching for someone to throw them a safety line.

John refused to yield to the dread, and he began to examine the scene around him. When he stopped screaming he felt better, he didn’t
feel as hopeless or desperate. He told himself that he was caught up in another vision; that it had to be another vision, because a place like this wasn’t real. He wanted to believe he was still at home, in his body, sleeping in bed next to his wife. At any moment he would wake up and everything would be fine. He then tried to wake up, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. He was locked in a terrible nightmare that was too real to be a vision.

John abandoned his efforts to wake up and decided to learn something from his experience. He wondered where he was, why he was where he was. Was it some kind of pathway to hell, or was it a holding area, a place to wait? He didn’t know, but he knew he did nothing to deserve such a fate. He didn’t know why the other people were there with him, but they all seemed to think as he did, that they didn’t deserve to be there. While those questions, and many others, raged through John’s mind, he drifted in the stream under the fallow, putrid sky.