The Rapture Dialogues: Dark Dimension (The Second Coming Chronicles Book 1)

by Terry James

  Christopher looked into the mirror again. He staggered backwards when his eyes met the image that reflected. He lurched forward, the heels of his hands on the porcelain of the basin.

  An old man stared back at him! Almost white hair. Age creases and wrinkles around the eyes, the forehead. The jaw drooping in dewlap fashion. The image that stared at him was aged at least 30 years beyond his own.

  Christopher heard a commode flush, then the door to the stall flap open, his eyes automatically going to the reflection in the mirror. A foreign-looking man, in appearance much like that of the men who had left seconds earlier, stood glaring at him. The man was a little older looking than the other three, he determined.

  To his amazement, a dark, human-shaped shadow-being stepped out of the man’s body, turned to face Christopher, then darted back into the man’s body to assume his form. Christopher, his mouth open in astonishment, turned from watching the reflection to see the man, to defend himself if he had to do so. But, the man was not there!

  His eyes searched for several seconds. No one in the restroom but himself. The room had changed between the time he saw the reflection and the time he turned toward the double doors.

  But, no double doors existed! Just a single door. The restroom was again like all other restrooms at Logan--like all the others, in all the other airports…

  Christopher turned to look again into the mirror. A face of a man in his thirties –his own face--had replaced the countenance of a man at least 65! The mirror, itself, was different, much smaller and less well lit.

  Susie met him at the door when he emerged from the men’s room. Her words blurted in a tone of uncharacteristic worry. “Are you okay? I thought I would have to come in and get you.”

  “I’m okay, now,” he said.

  “You were in there nearly a half-hour, Chris,” she said. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “It was strange, Susie,” he said glancing at his wristwatch, seeing she was right. Thirty full minutes had passed since he entered the men’s room.

  “I had a hallucination, or something. At least I guess that’s what it was,” he said, putting his arm around his wife and beginning to walk with her toward their bags.

  “A hallucination?”

  “Yes, I came upon three foreign-looking men. You know, Mexicans, Arabs, or something. Did you see anybody like that come out?”

  “No. And I’ve been right here, worried about you. As a matter of fact, I’ve been looking for someone to go in and check on you,” she said.

  “These guys, they had some little boxes, some packages they had opened. I couldn’t tell what were in the packages.”

  “What kind of hallucination is that? Is that all there was to it?”

  “No. The hallucination was the men’s room, itself. The place was entirely different. I’ve never seen one like it. Like something out of a sci-fi movie, you know, ultra-modern…”

  “Anything else?”

  “I saw myself in the mirror. I looked at least 65 years old, maybe older. White hair, drooping skin. It was spooky.”

  Susie’s eyebrows raised. What could have caused such a vision…or, whatever?

  Her thoughts probed further, and she asked, “These men, you say they left the washroom?”

  “That’s the other strange thing. I was looking in the mirror, when I saw another guy--a Mexican, or Indian…or Arab, or something, step back into the room. Then, a dark, smoky looking human-like creature--like the one that night in the storm--stepped out of the guy’s body, then back into him. I turned to look at him, and he wasn’t there. Not only that, but the entire men’s room was changed, back to the way it is now.”

  Susie looked into her husband’s eyes. They looked clear again. She touched his face. No fever. The clamminess--gone…

  “The dark beings, again,” she said, an expression of recall on her face.

  “Remember that old Jewish man who was killed by those terrorists?” she asked.

  “Remember?! Can’t get it off my mind!” Christopher said.

  “You remember what he said before he died? He quoted from the Old Testament. “Young men shall have visions; old men shall dream dreams…”

  Sharkton, June 26 - early morning

  Dawn painted the Atlantic in golden-yellow light. The gulls were already at it, diving and doing their aerial acrobats in preparation for another day’s fishing.

  Mark and Lori stood on the rocky promontory, locked arm in arm, watching the most spectacular daybreak either had experienced.

  They had slept little, Mark in a room with his father and Lori in a small third-floor room that had no windows. Despite their lack of sleep, they were as wide-awake now as they had ever been. They were truly alive, like never before in their young lives.

  “It was nice of Dr. Kirban to keep an eye on your dad,” Lori said, snuggling against Mark, feeling his warmth fend off the chill of the breeze blowing inland with the coming of the sun.

  “He wanted to examine Dad. Said he has hope for his recovery,” Mark said.

  “Soon?” Laura said with a smile.

  “Yeah, soon,” Mark said with a chuckle.

  “I wonder why he only says that word,” Lori said.

  “I don’t know. But, at least it shows he can speak. He says it very, very clearly,” Mark said with another light laugh.

  “The reason I mention it, is that’s what Daddy said, when he was still in a state of confusion, or whatever the problem was. He only said the word, ‘soon’.”

  “Oh?”

  “They both were subjected to the helmet and who knows what other experiments. But your father was exposed since 1947, while Daddy was subjected to experiments, or whatever, for only a matter of weeks. He’s completely recovered. Maybe that means your dad will just take longer.”

  “Maybe,” Mark said, his eyes following a pair of gulls swooping beyond the high bluff, but not really seeing them.

  “Let’s not waste this gorgeous morning thinking about other things,” she said, turning to face him, and pulling him forward with her hands behind his neck. She stood on tiptoes to kiss him.

  “Yeah. This is better than talking about other stuff,” he grinned, kissing her in return, while holding her close.

  Lori closed her eyes again when their lips parted. She pressed her cheek against his chest and felt the warmth of his hard body, heard the soft beat of his heart.

  “Thanks, Lord,” she said in a whisper.

  Clark Lansing stared, unblinking, in the basement laboratory, while Gessel Kirban examined him.

  The once tall, straight physicist now suffered with the stooped curvature of an old man. His years of lack of physical exercise added to his poor condition. He sat on the edge of a table, without a shirt, while Kirban listened to his chest with a stethoscope.

  “You still sound pretty good,” the Israeli physician and scientist said, patting Clark on his shoulder, then folding the rubber tubing of the instrument and stuffing the stethoscope into the smock’s side pocket.

  Kirban next looked deeply into Clark’s eyes with the light instrument retrieved from a nearby tabletop.

  “Ah, yes. The retina still looks quite healthy,” he said, then marked the fact on a chart.

  “Let us get your shirt on again, Dr. Lansing. I think our examination is finished for now.”

  The scientist retrieved the flannel shirt from the back of a chair.

  “Your son, Mark, will be pleased to hear the result of your physical exam,” Kirban said, helping his patient on with his shirt, then buttoning it for him.

  “I wish I could get understanding of what is blocking your cerebral progress, however,” the Israeli said. “Well, soon, perhaps.”

  “Soon,” Clark Lansing said, his eyes still fixed in a straight-ahead stare.

  Kirban stepped back, kneading his chin with his thumb and index finger, a frown of concentration on his face. He tried to recall previous experience in the matter of neurological problems and word association.
/>   “The same as with James Morgan,” he said to himself. “The word, ‘soon’…”

  He went to a bookcase, within which he had the night before placed several his books. He picked a volume, and turned through its pages, the expression of concentration still etched on his face.

  He read several pages in a quick scan of each page. Finally, he closed the book, and looked upward, at nothing, his eyes squinting in consideration of what he had read. A knock on the door to the lab interrupted his thoughts.

  “Come!” he called in the direction of the closed door.

  “I have some coffee for you,” Laura said, moving carefully through the doorway with a tray, upon which sat a carafe of coffee.

  “Hope you like biscuits,” she said. “It’s about all I could find the makings for.”

  “Ah! From the great American South! Love them!” the scientist said, clearing a place on a small table to make way for the impromptu breakfast.

  Clark Lansing seemed to respond to the smell of the biscuits.

  “Want some coffee? Maybe a biscuit or two?” Laura asked Lansing, patting his arm, and looking into his eyes.

  “How is he, Dr. Kirban?” she asked.

  “He does not seem to be responding at the same rate as did your husband. But, we shall see. Perhaps in time.”

  The Israeli sipped the hot coffee after a bite of biscuit and savored both. “Perfect, my dear Laura, just perfect.”

  She saw on his face a look that said he was considering how to approach her with his question. After another sip on the cup, he asked, “Laura, I must ask you…do you think James would put the PND device upon his head, one more time? For the sake of learning answers to the things involving these Dimensionals, as my late colleague, Dr. Frobe, called them?”

  Laura’s expression hardened, her voice abrupt.

  “I don’t think so, Doctor. I’ve just gotten him back. I will not lose him again.”

  “I understand fully your feelings in the matter,” the scientist said. “However, I feel strongly that utilizing the instrument on the particular subjects they chose, namely, your husband, Dr. Lansing, Lori, and Mark, is the only way we are going to get to the bottom of this…evil.”

  “Then that’s what we’re going to do!”

  Kirban and Laura turned to see Laura’s husband, who stood in the doorway.

  “Whatever it takes. It’s more important than any of us,” James said, walking into the laboratory.

  He poured the black, steaming coffee into the empty coffee mug he brought with him, then sipped with care.

  “You say it’s more important than any of us?” Laura said, struggling to control her anger. “Does that include our daughter?”

  “I can’t stand here and tell you it doesn’t scare me a little. But, I know there are things we’ve got to find out. Those whatever they are, they’ve got to be exposed,” James said.

  “No! Jimmy, I won’t have it!” Laura’s adamant declaration turned to tears of pleading. “Please, Dr. Kirban, please don’t put that thing on them again.”

  James embraced his wife. “It’s going to be okay, Super L. We can do it safely under the right controls. Dr. Kirban knows what he’s doing.”

  He looked to Kirban for backup.

  “We will be most cautious, Laura, I assure you,” the Israeli scientist said.

  Laura pulled away from her husband. She glared at Kirban, then at James, before leaving the laboratory without saying anything.

  “She’ll be okay, Doc,” Morgan said. “I’ll make her see it’s the only way.”

  Laura fought her anger while she walked up the steep stares from the basement into the pantry, through the big kitchen, and into the parlor.

  How could they even consider putting on those things again? It was insane! Who knew what damage was already done?

  Clark Lansing…he was a vegetable. Knew only one word.

  Jennifer Lansing had lost her husband. Didn’t even yet know that he was alive if the condition he was in should be considered alive.

  “Dear Lord,” Laura prayed. “Give me strength.”

  She took a deep breath while she looked out one of the huge windows that fronted the old house. She saw her daughter and Mark starting up the steps of the front porch, hand in hand.

  She managed a smile, thinking, “Some things will never change, like young love.”

  “Morning, Mom,” Lori said cheerfully when they entered the front door.

  “Good morning. You kids are up and at ‘em early,” Laura said. “Want some biscuits? That’s about all there is around here right now. We’ll have to go into Sharkton.”

  “We’ll go. Just tell us what you need,” Lori said, glancing at Mark.

  “Yes. Just give us your list,” he said. “I’ve got to get my wallet and some stuff. Be right back.”

  With Mark gone, Lori turned to her mother.

  “Okay, Mom, what’s wrong?” she asked.

  “What do you mean? Everything’s fine.”

  “And that’s why your eyes are swollen?” Lori said.

  “It’s nothing, sweetheart. We can talk about it later,” Laura said. “I can see that there’s nothing wrong in your life,” she said with a smile.

  “Oh, Mom--I love him so much,” Lori said, her expression projecting fulfilled expectations.

  Silence ruled for several seconds. Laura knew something important was on her daughter’s mind, and she waited, saying nothing, while looking into Lori’s eyes.

  “Mother,” Lori began, struggling for the words. “I…I’ve come to know that God is real. He’s real in my life…”

  “Sweetheart, I’m so thankful,” Laura said with a bright smile. In her thoughts, she said, Thank you, Lord.

  “He answered my prayers, even though I didn’t want to know Him,” Lori said. “Is there more to knowing God, than just believing in him?”

  “That’s the starting point, the all-important starting point, Lori. The Bible says, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved’.”

  “And, if you believe in Jesus, that’s all you do to be saved from…from what?”

  “From sin. The original sin, when Adam and Eve disobeyed in the Garden of Eden.”

  “That’s why Christ came to die on the cross. Right?” Lori said.

  “See? You know more than you thought,” her mother said, hugging her.

  “When will Rev. Banyon get here? I’ve got some questions,” Lori said, looking into her mother’s green eyes, pleased to see that she was again happy.

  Chapter 18

  “Portland is clear, but Boston, as we see, is still heavily fogged in,” Christopher said, after hanging up the phone. He stood, looking out the hotel room’s window, barely able to make out the hulking form of a huge building across the street. “They won’t let anything take off for at least three hours, the girl with American Airlines said.”

  He let himself plop heavily onto the bed.

  “Fog’s unusual in June,” he said, crossing his legs at the ankle, and adjusting both pillows under his head.

  “I wonder what it’s all about,” Susie said, going to the window and looking at the dense fog. “Do you think we’ll find answers at the Maine house?”

  “That’s why we’re going up there. Dr. Kirban --Randy’s Israeli-scientist friend--wants to explore some things about what somebody called ‘Dimensionals.’”

  Susie turned from the window to her husband and lay beside him. He removed one pillow from behind his head and handed it to her. She lay her head back after folding and fluffing the pillow.

  “These things are real, aren’t they?” she asked, cutting her eyes at Chris from the pillow.

  “Laura’s husband and Mark Lansing have seen the same things I’ve been seeing. I’ve no doubt about what the dark creatures are,” he said.

  “The bene elohim?” Susie asked, turning onto her right side, and propping her head on her hand.

  “As it was in the days of Noah, so shall it be in the days of the
coming of the Son of man,” he answered.

  “How can we find out anything more than we already know?” Susie asked.

  “The Lord will see to it that we get answers He wants us to have,” Christopher said. He turned to throw an arm over her and kiss her after pulling her to himself.

  “I do pray about it. I ask that we be protected, and that you be given understanding about what to do about these…crazy things happening around us.”

  “What a woman!” Christopher said, kissing her again. He turned more serious.

  “Since I started studying prophecy, the last days, the Second Coming, Armageddon, all those things, I’ve seen a pattern that runs throughout God’s Word like a steel cable,” he said.

  Susie adjusted her position beside him, moved closer, and looked into his eyes while he explained.

  “God lets the enemy do nothing without allowing his own armies to intervene to the same extent the evil one intervenes.”

  Susie considered his words, saying, “Yes. I can believe that.”

  “So, no matter what, we will have the advantage, because Christ is greater…more powerful…than anything in all of creation,” Christopher said.

  His wife turned onto her back again and eased her head onto the pillow. “Yes. It is true, isn’t it Christopher,” she said, looking at the ceiling, but seeing only the spiritual truth in her husband’s words.

  “The evil one, Satan, and all of the angels that fell, they have invaded again,” Susie said. “It’s spiritual warfare.”

  “But, like you said, they are real. Not just smoke, or vapor. As a matter of fact, the unseen, spiritual world is more real than this tangible world,” Christopher said. “This one will pass away, prophecy says. The spiritual world is eternal.”

  “Then, Dr. Kirban, how can he hope to fight against the spirit world with tangible world weapons?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure what he has in mind. I take it he wants to use some of the technological things he’s been working with in some way against these…things.”

  “And, what do you think he’ll do? Have any ideas?” Susie said, again turning on her side to face him.