Under the Blood Moon (The Stargazers Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-six

April 3
rd

Eric’s eyes opened, but he wished they didn’t. He hoped the second night of the Blood Moon would be his last. There was too much being taken from him. He had no idea where it was going when it left him, but it was going, nonetheless.

All he could think about was his sister…Sybil.

She was more than a sister. Sybil was his best friend.
Was.

For all he knew, she was dead just like everyone else who got in the way of Isabella. In the past several weeks, Eric had seen Isabella as the witch she was. She had become more ruthless than anyone he had ever known or even heard about.

As he opened his eyes, he saw he was still in the locked, windowless room that she kept him in. He tried everything within his realm of possibility and beyond to get out and reunite with his sister once more.

It was all for naught.

Isabella had thought of everything that he would need to escape and countered every probability.

They fed him only when he cooperated with Isabella’s evil scheme, which wasn’t often. He had no human to depend upon, so he made friends with the one he did have. God.

He still didn’t know why the wicked lady wanted him in the first place. All he did know was that Isabella was getting more and more impatient when what she expected to happen on the evening of a Blood Moon… didn’t.

One time she took him to a local business that he was unfamiliar with and asked, “Was this place in your dream?”

When he said that it wasn’t, she then took him to her tiny office and gave him an EEG. Her research was worthless. She seemed to know everything there was to know about the Blood Moons, except for what Eric knew. What she did not know was how to activate whatever control she thought she had over Eric.

He shook his head, as he tried to imagine how his having dreams involving the Blood Moon could actually make him some sort of channeling device of some kind of ancient power. He would have laughed, if his situation wasn’t so dire.

When she looked at him, he saw evil in her eyes. He believed that she had a demon living inside her. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

“Because I now own you.” Her voice was deep and cold.

“Not in reality.” He did not believe in magic, or that he had the ability to cause global distraction upon command. He did, however, know that he had to escape before Isabella decided that he was actually worthless and had no special powers for her to play with. She could kill him.

Suddenly, a masked henchman picked him up and threw him back into his prison shack.

Landing hard on the cold cement floor, he felt the rage in his heart and swore. He shook his head, as if he could remove any scary thoughts that way. Eric got down on his knees on the hard concrete floor and clasped his hands together tightly. He then bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Sorry about that swear word, God. I want to be a better person for my sister. Now she’s more like You than I ever was. I respect her. I can’t do anything without your help.”

Tears started to flow down his cheeks. “My request can’t be selfish, God? I’m not asking for jewels or money. I’m not even asking for a girlfriend. I just want to be free.”

His eyes widened with his new revelation. “That’s it! Isn’t it, God? I promise I’m not making fun of You, but You have that whole set my people free thing, or something along those lines. Yeah! You are going to set me free. Maybe Sybil will come soon.”

Thinking about the best friend he ever knew, he cried even harder. He cried himself to sleep. He was given a new dream—a confirmation. In his dream, he walked alone across a dry and thirsty desert. Looking around, he wondered if he was in Arizona, or maybe Texas. The hot sand burned his feet, but he kept walking. It was high noon and hot. Very hot.

Suddenly, a twister whirled the desert sand in the distance. It came closer—heading straight for him. A slow rain began, and he heard roaring behind him. Two masked men on motorcycles came riding across the desert from the other way—heading straight for him. The closer they got, the harder it rained.

Confusion surrounded him, but he kept walking forward. Dressed in khaki shirt and pants, his feet were bare and cracked. He looked at the tornado and then at the motorcycles. Turning his head from side to side, he realized he was in a new dream. His sandy, chromatic-colored hair did not move in the breeze. It was matted and dirty. His lips were parched. He felt the dryness of them with a swipe of his tongue.

The motorcycles arrived just ahead of the tornado. The tornado picked up the motorcycles, along with Eric. He was carried over the ocean, across the land to Israel. He was carried all night. The morning sunrise was tan, gray and orange. Eric saw the sun just long enough for it to disappear in a dust storm. Clouds were black with a gray lining. The sun was not visible at all.

He now looked around to try to make sense of where he was and why. He remembered the other dream. The village! He needed to find the village and save the residents. He felt something was wrong. He called out to God to save him.

He called out, “Take me to the Bedouins.” A dark cloud blew in above his head, picking him up. Two deep male voices called out loudly and echoed across the sand.

“End of days! End of days!”

They were the cyclists. They rode the motorcycles away across the hills and out of sight.

Eric stood alone.

His heart almost jumped out of his skin. He heard the voice as he had in former dreams. It was closer this time, and frightening. The voice was that of an older Englishman. Eric’s head reeled and he felt weak. The world whirled around him. He stopped dead still and waited. That was when he realized that the ground beside him had cracked and split open. Oddly, the souls he had seen in the former dream were now in the nearby cavern calling out for help.

“It’s too late for you,” someone called out. “You are doomed to hell.” Arrows shot through his mind and caused physical pain as they did. His body felt like it was burning up. He began to sweat profusely.

It continued to rain as the sky darkened and clouds rolled in to blanket the desert sky. It was as if he was in a movie. But there was no movie camera. Instead, mid-afternoon arrived. The sky changed as the clouds parted to reveal the moon, which was even bigger and brighter than seemed possible. Eric suddenly saw his sister fall off a cliff. He frowned as if her falling was a selfish act. He watched as she barely grabbed a clump of grass on the side of the cliff. When he stepped over to her, he saw that she was losing her grip and slipping. Clinging to the side, she called out, “Save my brother. Save my brother.”

Eric screamed, waking himself up.

Eric opened his eyes out of the dream. He felt startled and then remembered he was praying when sleep overcame him. He had another dream. One of a different kind. One of surrounding light. Angels surrounded him, their wings touching. He then lowered his head once again and continued his prayer.

“God.” He looked up and continued to pray as he sniffled. “My sister is a good person. Please don’t let anything happen to her. I don’t want her to die. She has her whole life ahead of her. Heck! Even my birth parents did not want me, but she is loved by many. And she loves me more than anyone else could ever love me. She has a lot of reasons to live. Please. Just help her.”

He clasped his hands together so tightly, he started to shake. Eric clenched his teeth as every bit of emotion he had poured out in the prayer.

“Let me die,” he said, honestly. “But save Sybil. I beg of You. I accept Jesus as my savior and everything else that I just don’t know about. I want to thank You for not only listening, but thank You in advance for protecting Sybil. She’s one of the good ones.”

Realizing that his salvation was part of his dream, he frowned. Bits and pieces of the dream were coming true, just like he knew they would. He had always had premonitions in his dreams, but nothing like what he experienced recently. They had always been concerned about where to go to get a cat out of a tree or things of that nature.

Nothing so apocalyptic.

He opened his eyes and blinked several times to try to get adjusted to the intense light coming from the direction of the door. The room had no windows, so he knew it wasn’t from outside. He turned his head toward the door and saw that it was wide open. “I want to be on your side, God. Please set me free and forgive all my sins.”

He immediately felt a power beyond himself. He smiled as he looked up. “Thank you, Lord! If I had known that would happen, I would have asked for forgiveness sooner!”

Chapter Twenty-seven

April 4
th

Second Year, Third Tetrad

A radio was playing just outside Sybil’s door.

“Here is the latest on the Blood Moon phenomena: The most unique thing about the 2014-2015 Tetrad is that all of them are visible for all or parts of the U.S. Yet, people in Europe, Africa and the Middle East will not be able to see this red moon. The blood moon was first seen from Miami at the beginning of the total lunar eclipse, where it was observed more closely. This blood moon was most prominent in North and South America.”

Someone clicked the radio off and walked away.

* * *

Eric stood in front of the now open door that was locked just moments before he gave his life to Christ. Or so he thought.

He wondered whether he was dreaming again. Since his dreams felt more real than actual life sometimes, he was never sure. His gut told him to run through the open portal before it closed on him and sealed him in once again. Hesitation gripped him, as he realized he could trust his eyes again. The dreams were only known to him as dreams, when something so bizarre would happen, that he knew it could never be real life.

Without conscious thought, his feet moved toward what he believed to be freedom. Staring, trance-like at the new possibility before him, he grimaced and his stomach tightened. They could shoot him on the spot if he stepped through.

Pieces of his apocalyptic dream, shot through his mind and caused physical pain as they often did. He started to sweat and his body felt like it was burning up.

Just like in the dream.

Gritting his teeth gave him no more control over his body, than anything else he tried. Resorting to conscious commands was all he had left. “Stop it! I don’t want to go! Stop making me! It’s my body and I’ll go or leave when I decide it’s the best time to go!”

Muscles tensed, as Eric fought off the demons. I’m not a puppet! Father in Heaven! I can’t…leave…yet! Help me.

“No!” he cried, as he woke up covered in sweat. He felt cold and hot at the same time, which in his mind, meant he was ill. Along with a strong dose of nausea, he could have sworn he had the flu or something similar. He may have been in a trance.

He glanced at the door and shook his head, while trying not to get angry. The door was now closed and he assumed that it was locked as well. “See, God? I can’t tell the difference between my dreams and being awake anymore. Boy, I’m really screwed up. Thanks for waking me up in time to save some face. That would have been embarrassing if I walked into a closed door.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

April 6
th

As consciousness returned, the pain tore through Sybil’s body as if it had been carried through her bloodstream and deposited everywhere there was a nerve of some kind.

She wanted to cry out, but the fatigue held her back. She was afraid to open her eyes for fear that it would all look worse than it felt.

When she got the courage, she slowly opened one eye. She looked around and saw that she was in the hospital.

I’m alive?

Wishing she wasn’t was no longer an option for her. She knew that it would take more time than she had to heal properly. Wanting to move wasn’t an option either. She tried to move her fingers, only to be shot down by the pain again.

“How long have I been here?”

A nurse came in and without looking at her, she went to the end of her hospital bed and pulled up the chart. She remained silent while the nurse checked the chart for several minutes. She then looked at the woman lying in the bed next to her. She almost looked like Callista. She attempted to say something to the nurse. But the nurse’s eyes widened and she ran out of the room, yelling for the doctor.

She wished she was strong enough to chuckle. Then she realized that if the nurse was in such a panic, her hospital stay might have been longer than she had originally thought. The nurse looked strong enough to handle any job. Her brown hair and brown skin showed her beauty. Her wrinkled hands showed she was a hard worker.

Sybil’s breathing became erratic, as she thought of the consequences of her being bed-ridden for an extended period of time. Bedsores and bad food was among the pluses of her stay. She couldn’t afford to spend another day cooped up. No matter how bad she felt.

Attempting to move her fingers was hard enough, but trying to move any other part of her body was pure torture. She tried to move her mouth to form her words, but for some reason she couldn’t even do that without being in tremendous pain. Even trying to turn her head was out of the question.

The nurse returned with the doctor. He was an older man with a receding hairline and thick rimmed glasses. He wasn’t much to look at, but she needed a doctor, not a male model.

The doctor grabbed the chart from the nurse, as they talked in whispers with their heads leaning toward one another. They kept looking at her, as if she was some kind of oddity and then they continued murmuring and looking at the chart.

He then forced a smile and approached the side of the bed. “Good morning. I know you’re in a lot of pain, but healing is a process. I have to admit that we weren’t expecting you to be awake so soon after what happened to you. That is definitely a strong positive in your road to recovery. You’re in the best hospital in Portland. According to me, anyway.”

He chuckled in a juvenile sort of way, while the nurse behind him did the same and then looked embarrassed. She excused herself and left the room.

He cleared his throat, as he followed the nurse as far as the door and then closed it. “I’m sure you will agree that privacy is the best in this matter. You know, it’s a miracle that you’re even alive, after what you’ve been through. If believe in those things, of course.”

He chuckled again, which was getting extremely irritating to the captive audience.

His tone and expression became more serious, as he put his hands behind his back and clasped his hands together. He seemed nervous, which she knew was never good.

Especially in a hospital.

He cleared his throat again. “You have numerous broken bones. Too many to allow you to be mobile at this juncture. You may have noticed that your jaw is wired shut. Well, that’s because your jaw is broken, along with 27 other bones throughout your body. I would advise you not to try to move, because we made sure you couldn’t just in case you woke up. Sure enough, look at you! You’re bright eyed and bushy tailed. Aren’t you?”

She attempted to mutter, “Not really.”

He seemed to become more nervous, the more he talked. “While on the surface, you have more cuts and contusions. The good news is there are all mostly superficial wounds and will heal a lot quicker than the… more serious conditions.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, which was all she could really do, considering the circumstance. She was getting impatient and he became more nervous. She knew that there was something wrong with her that he was trying to avoid telling her.

She wished that just for a few seconds she could ask him what was wrong. All she could do was express her concern through her eyes. Her emotions were raw. She raised her eyebrows a bit and stared at him. There was no other way for her to tell him that he needed to say what was wrong with her.

It looked to her like he was fighting with his decision internally, as he bit his lower lip. She needed to say something.

“Uh…” was all that managed to escape her mouth. Something had to work to make him listen. She was calling him all kinds of names in her mind for teasing her like that.

She tried to move her finger and found out once again, that was only hurting her. Not him.

Her agitation caused him to be less worried about the excruciating pain she was in and more about what else was wrong with her.

The doctor was about to open his mouth when a familiar face came storming in. To say he was upset would have been an understatement, which was a dramatic change of pace for Solomon Dancer. She assumed that with everything he went through recently, that was to be expected.

He had a sling on his right arm and a large bandage over his left eye, with cuts and abrasions all over his face and arms. “You be leaving her alone, doc! Hasn’t this woman been through enough, without you playing some sadistic game! You’ve done enough damage for one day! Go see who else you can kill with frustration!”

The doctor was completely put off and opened his mouth to say something.

Solomon never let him get the chance. “Go, I said! Go now, before my words aren’t the only thing to tell you!” He stood his ground with his heavy breathing exaggerated on purpose and his hands doubled up in a fist.

The doctor ran out through the door and out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Sybil was now alone with Solomon.

He turned toward her and immediately replaced his angry look for one of sympathy and pity. His eyes welled up with tears. “I am so sorry. I had no idea this would happen to you. I’m sorry I could do nothing to help you when the earthquake hit. I was trying to reach you, and almost there, when everything collapsed around you. You are alive and that is the important ’ting. You must get better, because I believe
that dere
is a lot you have to do. You have unfinished business, young lady.”

All she could do was smile in her eyes. He smiled back. It was the first time her smile was noticed since she woke up in the hospital bed. She had always detested hospitals. She always said that’s where people went to die.

The sparkle in Solomon’s eyes when he looked at her spoke volumes. She had no idea he cared that much about her. It was something she had always hoped was true.

She loved Solomon from the first day she laid eyes on him.

“I have to go now,” he said, while looking nervously at the door. “I have unfinished business too… with Mama.”

The woman in the bed next to her turned the TV on to Israel news. “Three out of the four lunar eclipses which have been taking place in this season, have not, nor will not be visible from Israel. The only eclipse that will be seen at all from Israel is the tail end of the September 28, 2015 eclipse, which may be observable for a short while before sunrise. We encourage all Israelis to go outside and enjoy the view. Celebrate the event. Plan a party.”

Maybe I’ll go to Israel to see that one.

Those were her last peaceful thoughts as she looked out the window and drew her last breath.