World War S 3

Chapter 2

find new devout, then it begins...

1.

“I said wake up!”

John Levi had been asleep for an hour when the man woke him. It was the man who had helped him before, who always appeared at just the right time out of thin air. Now he was not as polite as last time because he didn’t use his finest words. The man gave John such a slap that his ear was buzzing so he didn’t hear what else was said. Although he saw the mouth moving, in the darkness of the tent John could not read the man’s lips.

He looked to the right, where Julie Bond’s resting place was—empty—it looked like she’d left the tent for some reason. She probably would have been able to interpret these surreal events for a normal guy like him. A psychologist was always handy.

But the piercing buzz suddenly came to an end, and he heard the man’s voice loud and clear. “You must leave now!” said the man, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a seated position. His face was so close to John’s that he could study the smallest details of the man’s iris. He has beautiful eyes, John thought. He couldn’t even imagine that he would ever say that about a man’s eyes.

At that moment the zipped tent door was torn and something enormous pushed John to the back wall of the tent. It was black, stinky mud flowing through the entrance and rapidly filling the inside of the double tent.

He was wide awake now. The slap of the mysterious man seemed like a gentle touch compared to being hit in the chest by the mud avalanche. He quickly realized that it wasn’t the mud, but the small debris mixed into the mud that would cause the bigger harm; small, needle-like splinters of vegetation stuck into each uncovered part of his skin.

That man could have helped him, but he probably had only been sent with the task of waking him up. He’d taken such a big risk when he helped at the airport to get the video proving John’s brother Paul’s innocence, and then he’d helped with the escape from the jail too. John had thought at that time that this man was Paul’s guardian angel, but since Paul had not been able to see him, John had to accept—despite the fact he was an atheist—that he had a heavenly helper. And this angel proved again that Paul’s God had appointed him to watch over John. Although this time he’d come too late and left him alone too early.

Meanwhile, the mud filled the tent up to John’s chest. The wa-terproof material doesn’t let the water through, he thought. Perfect design, except for now when I need it to flow through! He reached for his belt where his knife should be, but he was gripping the knife’s holster only. The tent was fixed to the nearest trees by ropes, so they still held the whole thing tight.

That was when the floating trunk appeared, aiming straight for the entrance. John saw it coming as if in slow motion, as it rode on the dirty current, approaching him. His mind raced quicker than the reality in this dangerous situation. He had to do something to avoid the flowing killer debris, and he decided in a split second; he dove into the mud.

The plan looked feasible, he thought, as the trunk stabbed through the flap of the tent like a spear, leaving his skull intact but throwing him to freedom. After this, a long and painful mudslide came.

The plateau, which served as camp before, had gone. The hill, which slid due to the heavy rains of the previous days, had run down into the valley. John tried to catch the branches that stole past him, but he was going at such a fast pace that it didn’t do him any good; it just gave him more cuts on his palms. Then he ploughed his heels into the ground, but it was so soft due to the running water that it couldn’t hold his boots. When he ran out of ideas, he reached the bottom of the valley, smashing into the debris piling up there.

He found it difficult to breathe because something was pressing his back with horrific force, pushing all the air from his lungs. When he finally gathered his strength again, another wave of mud reached him. He climbed up the small debris hill, but he could hardly hold himself up against the flood.

It took ten minutes for the mud avalanche to spend all its strength. John tried to move his legs, but he realized that the sludge had captured him, covering his body up to his waist. The fight against the forces of nature made him extremely exhausted—he thought he would need some minutes to compose himself again. While he panted heavily, he laid his head on the branches and stones.

But his forehead touched something soft, something that felt like skin.

“What? What is that?” he leaned back suddenly.

Between the branches, a nose pointed to the sky.

As a cop, he’d seen a lot of dead bodies, so the shock didn’t last long. The worst part now, though, was that he could not leave the place, he was forced to bear the knowledge that one of their jungle guides was lying dead a few centimetres from him. And he was probably the boss because he had such a wide, flat nose.

Oh, I hope Julie isn’t below the debris! I would like her to survive this whole thing!

He turned to the side, avoiding the corpse as much as he could, and lay on the branches again, having a few minutes break. Up there in the far side of the sky, the moon broke through the scattering pillows of the clouds, drawing the outline of the rabble that remained from the plateau. John did not see the silhouette of the other tent, so the guide’s resting place was gone as well. The campfire blazed a bit farther from that, next to the cliff, and its light reflected back from the stone arch high above.

Oh, God, please let Julie still be at the campfire! John thought. Please let her have a personal guardian angel too, like the one who took care of me!

*

Salome Sue Richardson had outgrown her previous caravan. Not because she couldn’t fit into it anymore with her modest wardrobe and her few personal items, but a worldwide famous star with a growing fame was entitled to have a bigger mobile home.

Worldwide famous star—oh, yes! she thought. However, she’d resisted the idea of signing the contract with Tim Cristen, the superannuated film star, but in the end she’d done it anyway. Only for Kathy’s sake, she’d mumbled at that time, but this fear was in the past now. The new show, Everyday Spiritualism, had swept through not only the United States, but would soon overtake the other half of the world. The satellite channels aired the programme in Europe and South America as well, which bolstered Sue’s self-confidence and gave her a solid financial foundation.

And Kathy was healthy. Not only healthy, but outstandingly well. This gave priceless confidence to the world’s most well-known medium. This was worth more than any of the TV viewing indicators.

Now that Sue was on the up, more popular than ever and packing larger and larger venues with fans, her previous show, Medium on Call, seemed like a lame TV magic show. Sue filled conference centres with her performances again, but it was only the beginning; today would be the first day in a sports arena. Great Granny Salome and all the spirits, in a sports arena! She thought and looked into the mirror. Her professional staff prepared her for the show, and she had a proper makeup artist, not an understudy; now they put some rouge on her cheeks, and the hairdresser fluffed her hair—this was the new style. According to Phil Montreaux, the new producer, the people wanted to see somebody who would radiate wisdom and the heritage of the ancestors. Somebody who could be the embodied, futuristic TV magician.

She tried to be that person. Great Granny Salome’s old magic book became old school, although she still valued it highly, since the white magic and the sorcery were based on the same method—but this book wasn’t fit for the modern world. The spirit world must be renewed as well. How could it be the same as many centuries before, at the time of the old witches? The shadowy world, the unseen appeared in the form humans preferred. In the new age, the witches would not ride on broom-sticks but consult with their clients as Internet mediums.

That was why they created the Knowledge Base of Great Granny Salome, where anybody could consult with Sue or any of her colleagues twenty-four hours a day. Besides the phone healing, the distant energy treatments, they organized two-week long trainings for those who wanted to open their third eye. People thronged to her, those who saw the new hope in these treatments in this economically recovering world. Also coming in huge numbers were those who had lost confidence in the old religions and wanted to step into a higher level of consciousness. Great Granny Salome’s name still sounded good, from the distance of two generations. Sue had grown out of her shadow.

And I need to be grown-up enough for this task, she thought, looking up to the arched building of the baseball stadium towering in front of her through the caravan window. What a crowd of people. And they’re all waiting for me! How the hell will I choose somebody? How will I invite him to the stage? Phil keeps telling me I don’t need to worry about this. I don’t need to worry about anything at all. There will be helpers who bring the person to the stage … Oh, that sounds complicated …

Sue invited Jim too. She had looked for him for months, moreover she had sent him money every month, like indemnity reparation. Of course she couldn’t alleviate the scars when she had wounded their friendship, since they had spent years working with her previous producer. It was an interesting coincidence the way that Judge Roger Miner had creeped into both of their lives. Of course it wasn’t a coincidence. In the background, high spiritual potentates moved the battalions of the shadows forward. And Sue had entered their service.

Only for Kathy. The familiar phrase flashed into her mind again, but at the worst moment. Why now, when everything seemed to be running fine? When she needed to relax and listen in to the continuous murmuring of the spiritual realm, which was not silent anymore. Now, when she needed to stand before thousands.

“Don’t just stand there daydreaming!” Phil stood behind her. In the mirror she could see his bushy hair as the makeup crew made the final touches to her face. “We only have fifteen minutes. This very first stadium recording will be very important,” he continued, but Sue could only see his hand gestures. “The first impression is the most important, and we can’t make mistakes. Our schedule is filled for the whole year, and not only here in the States, but in Europe too.”

“Okay. I get it!” Sue lifted her hands. “I know very well how important this is, and this is the biggest problem. I have never had jitters. But this isn’t some rodeo out in the country. So please don’t make me more agitated! You would calm me down if you said that the helpers are in place.”

“They are in their places, ready to work. We also took some precautionary measures in case something doesn’t go well. I guess you know what I mean.”

Sue looked at his reflection in the mirror, uncomprehending, but soon the penny dropped. Then she raged.

“Phil, I’ve spoken with you politely up until this moment because our relationship is quite fresh. I can’t yell down your head, as I did with Jim because I don’t know your limits, but if you’re serious then I won’t be able to control my temper much longer.”

“I’m dead serious. I watched a few episode from the previous show, and I saw when it was derailed. We can’t let it happen again.”