He shook his head.
"Okay. It's okay," the doctor reassured him. "Zachary, can you lift your shirt up for me?"
Zachary did so.
"Okay," the doctor said, examining him all over, even turning him to look at his back.
"Okay, you can lower it now." After he did so, the doctor said, "Zachary, there's a rip across the front of your shirt here," he outlined it with his hand, "and there's an awful lot of blood there. Do you know how that happened?"
He nodded.
"Okay, can you tell me please?"
"That's where the glass was."
"The glass?" The doctor raised an eyebrow.
He nodded.
"You don't seem to have any cuts," the doctor said.
Zachary was silent.
"Okay," the doctor said, "You look like you haven't eaten in quite a while, you hungry?"
Zachary nodded vigorously. He was starving.
"I'm gonna get you something to eat. You wait right here, the nurse will see if we can hook you up and get some fluids in you, and then you'll feel a lot better, okay?"
He didn't wait for Zachary to respond, just got up and walked away.
As Zachary waited, he noticed others waiting. One man was holding his arm, which appeared broken. A woman was suppressing a terrible wheeze. He felt a sudden compulsion to try and help them. Surely God's love would alleviate their suffering, as it had his.
Zachary stepped over to the man. "I'm going to ask God to heal you," he said.
"What?" asked the man incredulously.
He touched the man's arm. Lord, please help this man. Heal his suffering, he thought. A warm sensation arose from deep inside him. God's love, Zachary thought ecstatically. He gripped the man's arm tighter, and the sensation passed down his arm and through his hand. A soft light ran down with it.
"Oh!" the man exclaimed. "That feels...it feels better." He marveled as Zachary released his arm. "Oh, wow..." he flexed his arm, and wiggled his fingers. "Thank you!"
"God bless you," Zachary said, smiling. He stepped over to the wheezing woman.
"Who are you-" she hacked out a terrible, long cough, "What are you-" cough "-doing?"
He grasped her shoulders and asked God to help her. Again the light passed through him into her.
The woman's reaction was immediate. She straightened as if charged with electricity. "Oh my god," she said, and sucked in a deep, deep breath. "Oh my...thank you. Thank you!!" She stood and wrapped her arms around Zachary, hugging him tight. "Thank you thank you thank you!"
There was a crash, and Zachary turned to see the doctor had returned. He stood with a shocked look on his face, the sandwich and plate dropped to the floor in his surprise.
He stepped over. "Ma'am, you need to sit down, you shouldn't be exerting yourself!"
"I'm fine! This wonderful young man made me well!"
He gave a skeptical look, and put on his stethoscope. He held it to her back, asking her to take deep breaths, which she did with utmost satisfaction.
The doctor turned and looked at Zachary in amazement.
"What did you just do?" he asked.
Zachary shrugged.
"Don't tell me you don't know," the doctor said angrily. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Zachary said. "God did it."
*****
Dr. Juergens recoiled from Zachary's hand, stumbling and falling backwards.
Kevin stepped forward. "What are you doing?"
"God gave me a message," Zachary said. "I'm trying to give it to him."
"There is no God!" the scientist said. "He's delusional!"
Near the door, Tyler said, under his breath, "Shh...it's okay, boy."
Brandon looked around him. "Who are you talking to?"
"No one," Tyler said, "myself."
"If he's delusional then what are you afraid of?" Kevin asked.
"The effects of the rift the bus drove through seem unpredictable! Who knows what he might do?"
Kevin looked back at Zachary. "Well he's only healed people so far."
"I didn't heal them," Zachary said.
"I know," Kevin said. "God did it. Or so you keep saying."
Zachary nodded. "God loves us all. Even him."
Kevin thought. "Why don't you give me God's message first?"
"It's not for you. It's for the bad people."
"Why is he one of the bad people?"
The scientist stood. "We don't have time for this. We have to get to the computer lab so we can stop this."
"Quiet!" Simon growled at him. "I can smell it on him. Zachary's right."
"Zachary," Kevin said, "how do you know he's one of the bad people?"
"I just do."
"I don't have to listen to this," Juergens said.
Heather touched one of the tables and brought a stone hand up against his chest. "Yes you do."
"God said the bad people will bring the end times," Zachary said. "It's up to us to stop them."
"How do we stop them, Zachary?" Kevin asked.
Zachary struggled to answer for a moment. "I don't know. I only know we have to bring God's love to the bad people."
The others were silent for a moment.
Brandon grinned. "And you thought aliens were crazy. Bazinga!"
*****
The Camaro pulled up to the curb and stopped, and a large man with a moustache got out.
"Jeff?" the man called.
"Over here, dad," a sullen boy responded.
Zachary's father stood, facing the man. Zachary stayed on the park bench and watched the other boy with angry, dejected eyes.
"What's going on here?" the man said with a hostile tone.
"Sir," Zachary's father said, extending a hand, "I hope you don't mind, but I thought we should," he was interrupted by a cough, "I thought we should speak." Over the years since his medicine began getting more costly, his father had been able to afford it less and less. He grew sicker, and weaker, month to month.
The man did not take his hand. "Jeff, get over here!" Jeff got off the bench and went to stand beside his father. "Speak about what."
"I thought you should know your son called my boy a name. A very cruel taunt."
The man cast a glance at Zachary, who hid behind the bench, clutching his Bible. "What did he call him?"
"I don't like to repeat it, but it refers to people with developmental disabilities."
"To what? What did you call him?" he asked his son.
"A retard," the boy said, giggling.
The man laughed. "Oh! Retard huh? Is that right, kid? Are you a retard?"
"My boy," Zachary's father began in a severe tone, but again began wheezing, which mitigated whatever threat might have been there, "is not a...not that."
"Well he sure looks like one to me. What do you think about that?"
"I pray for you," Zachary's father said, closing his eyes, "as Stephen did. Lord, do not hold this sin against them."
The man laughed out loud. "Do you believe this shit?" he asked his son. "What are you, some kind of Jesus freak?"
"I love our Lord with all my heart, if that's what you mean, s- sir-" he began wheezing, which took his breath.
"Well sounds like he doesn't give a shit about you!" The man laughed.
Zachary made an angry sound and rushed at the man, but his father held him back. "No, Zachary," his father said, gasping for breath. "No!"
"C'mon, Jeff, let's leave the Jesus freak and his 'tard to pray!" The man said. They laughed and walked to their car.
Zachary's father held him, and as his coughing worsened, Zachary supported him as they walked home.
That night, in the bedroom they shared in their small home, his father told him to kneel.
"I know it's hard, Zachary, but I want you to pray for that boy and his father."
He shook his head.
His father pressed his Bible into his hands. "God loves us all, Zachary...even the bad people. And when they have turned from Him, they need our love and fo
rgiveness most of all, to help them back into His grace. They need our help, Zachary, do you understand that? They need our help and they don't even know it."
Reluctantly, Zachary nodded.
"The book of Matthew says if you forgive men when they sin against you, the Lord will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive them, the Lord will not forgive you. Now pray with me, boy."
When they were finished, Zachary helped his father stand up and get ready for bed. "I need to rest, son," he said. "I'm awful tired. God bless you, son."
He helped his father into bed, and turned out the light. He sat on his own bed, unable to sleep, as he listened to his father's wheezes in the night.
*****
The angels sang a terrible song. They sang of the end of days, and evil men who would bring about Armageddon. But as the bus roared onto the bridge, Zachary heard in their voices a note of hope too.
There was hope, even in the darkest of darkness, so the angels sang.
Zachary was scared, but he closed his eyes and prayed. He prayed for God to save them all.
The bus struck the railing, and sailed into the air.
Suddenly, he wasn't afraid anymore. There was a hand on his shoulder, a warm and powerful hand.
Zachary opened his eyes.
*****
"Zachary," the doctor said, "some men are here to see you."
A man entered. He had white hair and wore a lab coat and wire-rimmed glasses.
"Please wait outside," the man said.
The doctor stepped out.
Zachary tried to get up, but they had strapped him down too tight. They had taken him into a private room after God had healed the people in the hall, and then, after making some calls, strapped him to a bed.
"Hello, Zachary," the man said.
"Hello."
The man seemed surprised that Zachary spoke. "I heard you had an incident with some other patients."
He was silent.
The man leaned close. "Did you do it, Zachary? Did you heal those people?"
"No," Zachary said.
"You're lying. One of them said he saw a light come from your hands."
"I saw that too!" Zachary said enthusiastically. "I think it was God's love."
The man made a strange face. "You what?"
"I asked God to heal them. I think that light was his love going inside them."
The man squinted, as if trying to determine if he was serious or not.
"I know you," Zachary said.
"Do you?" the man said, looking around behind himself.
"Yes," Zachary said. "I recognize you."
The man withdrew a syringe from his lab coat. "I can't have you causing any trouble for me, son. You understand." He injected the syringe into Zachary's arm.
"Ah!"
"It'll only hurt for a moment," the man said, "and then you'll just fall asleep."
"You're one of them," Zachary said, feeling fear rise inside him. "You're one of the bad people."
The man leaned very, very close. "Shut up and die, you miserable little shit."
Zachary's vision swam, but he managed to say one more thing:
"I pray...God forgive him..."
The man put the needle away and placed a hand over Zachary's mouth. He held it there until Zachary was gone.
After a time, the door opened, and several others entered. They were clearly military men. The one in front, a chubby middle-aged man, cleared his throat. "Did you find out anything, Doctor Juergens? Is this the boy?"
"Yes," Juergens said, "but he won't be a problem for us anymore."
*****
Zachary's father held his hand as he lay in bed, Zachary kneeling beside him.
He could barely speak without coughing, but he was trying to tell Zachary something.
He reached for the glass of water on the night stand, and gave his father a sip.
His father lay back on the pillow, and the water seemed to ease his suffering a bit, but only a bit.
"I love you, boy," he said.
Zachary squeezed his hand tighter.
"Be strong and fear not," his father said, wheezing a bit, "for the Lord thy God goes with thee; he will not forsake thee.”
Zachary was silent.
"I want you to be brave, Zachary," he said. "Can you be brave for me?"
He nodded.
"That's my boy," he said softly, "my special boy."
His father looked up, his hand relaxed its grip, and he was at peace.
*****
He was standing on a mountaintop. It wasn't bare and rocky, or icy and cold. It was verdant and green, and all around Zachary could see the majesty of earth: mountains and valleys gleaming under the sun. He stood in the cool shade of a tree, the only tree he could see for miles.
There, standing beside him, beaming a kind smile down upon him, was God. God looked exactly like Zachary had always expected he would look; in fact, he looked like EVERYTHING Zachary had ever imagined, somehow all at once.
"Hello, Zachary," God said. He spoke with the sound of rumbling earth, roaring wind, and crashing waves, but was easily understood. In his eyes were the spiral forms of billions of galaxies, yet they were the kindest eyes Zachary had ever seen.
Zachary just put his arms around him and hugged him.
God laughed. "It's all right, child. It's all right." Zachary stepped back and smiled at him. "I need to talk with you, son," God said. "We need to have a long talk."
"Yes, sir."
"I need you to do something for me, and it won't be easy."
*****
Some hours after the injection, Zachary opened his eyes to find himself in the dark. He was alone, and very frightened. He sat up, fumbling to pull the sheet away from himself and find his bearings. The last thing he remembered was the school bus, the crash, the chill of the river water, and of course, God. He had no memory since then.
Be brave, he thought.
He stumbled from the table top, and found the wall. From there, he fumbled along until he found the switch.
*****
Brandon swooped down out of the sky, unceremoniously dumping Kevin on the lawn and nearly crashing into his house in the process.
"Jesus!" Kevin cried.
"Sorry, sorry!" Brandon said. "I haven't done this carrying anyone before!"
"What are we gonna do?" Kevin asked. "What are we gonna do? My mom, my dad! They killed them!"
"Shhh! Just be quiet until we get inside." He fumbled for his keys. Once he got the door open, the two of them scurried inside and Brandon locked the door behind them, switching on the lights.
"Okay, okay, gotta think," Brandon said.
"Are your parents here?"
"Are they still my parents?" Brandon asked. "Then no, they're not here."
"Hello," said a voice from behind them.
The two of them jumped. "Who the hell are you?" Brandon said.
Zachary had been sitting on the couch, waiting. He stood. "My name is Zachary."
Kevin walked into the living room, limping a bit. If he had turned on his power, Brandon wouldn't have been able to hold onto him, so he had hurt himself a bit in the botched landing. "Are you with them?" he asked.
"No," Zachary said.
"Who are you?" Brandon asked again.
"We were on the school bus together," Zachary said.
Kevin and Brandon looked at each other.
"How did you find us?" Brandon asked.
Zachary shrugged. "I just did."
Brandon looked skeptical. "If you were on the bus, what's your power?"
"I don't know what that means."
"Your power!" Brandon repeated. "Your thing...what can you do?"
"I can't do anything."
Kevin limped forward. "Forgive me, but this seems like a pretty big coincidence. Some guys are trying to kill us, and you just show up like this."
Zachary reached forward to touch him.
Kevin flinched back, and something happened. Zachary couldn't q
uite touch Kevin, but he asked God to heal him, and the light passed down his hand and into Kevin, passing through whatever surrounded him.
"Whoa!" Kevin reached down to touch his leg. He stepped on it, gingerly at first, then putting weight on it. "My leg is better."
"A healer!" Brandon exclaimed. "Straight up MMO archetype. Nice!"
"MMO?" Zachary asked.
"Believe me, you're better off not knowing," Kevin said. "I thought you said you couldn't do anything?"
"I asked God to do it."
"Okay, I got it!" Brandon said. "Here's what we're gonna do! The three of us are gonna find the other kids from the bus and get to the bottom of this! Avengers assemble!"
"Brandon, the last girl we found got shot tonight, remember?"
"Now we know they're after us! We're prepared now! Hang on, let me go get the other pictures I printed out! We're gonna track them down!" He ran into the bedroom.
Kevin sat on the sofa and covered his face with his hands, trying not to think of his parents bodies.
Zachary sat next to him, and looked at him earnestly. "Do you think if we find the other kids from the bus, one of them might have my Bible? I lost it."
Kevin lowered his hands and just looked at him.
Is this guy for real? he thought.
*****
"Okay," Kevin said. "Maybe he is one of the 'bad people', but we don't have time to debate this. He's right, we only gained a little bit of time from Becca and Mia leaving. We have to go to the other lab."
Zachary began to protest, but Kevin cut him off.
"You'll have time to show him your message later," he said.
Zachary looked at the scientist, who avoided his eyes.
"Let's go!" Brandon said.
Tyler blinked, and they were able to open the doors.
*****
After his father died, Zachary sat in the corner and cried. He sat like that for a long time, not knowing what to do, or where to go. He huddled in the corner, holding his Bible against his chest and remembering all the things his father had read to him from it.
Over time, he began to get very hungry. Finally, he was compelled to go to the kitchen, but there was nothing left. His father had not been able to go to the store to get food in weeks.
Missing Time (313) Page 9
