The Pestilence

by Faisal Ansari

  “I know, Mama, but let God decide when to call Samuel. Look at the miracles happening all around us. At the centre of these was Samuel. Look at your oldest son, raised from the dead, now standing by your side. Have faith.” Tears welled in Khalid’s eyes. “Please, Deedee.”

  Dalia and Mariam leaned into each other drawing on the reserves of one another’s strength; their hearts riven, grief all consuming.

  The Senior Registrar sensed the change in the direction of the thinking in the room and spoke once more. “If I may, let me provide a different perspective. The patient’s body is, in a sense, a life support system for his brain. The body is not the same thing as the person, and in this vital sense, Samuel is not his body; he is his mind. So if we all agree today that brain death is the end of a person, we should accept that brain life is the central aspect of personhood and accept that the body is merely another type of life support. By using the machines we are keeping the patient’s natural life support system functioning artificially. Samuel’s brain activity is virtually non-existent. His mind has gone, which means he, Samuel, has gone.”

  Khalid couldn’t let go. He had led a life of loss; his father leaving, his brother, countless friends. No more. While there was hope, no more. “Why can’t we just wait? Leave it to God. If he calls for Samuel let him then take him. Not before.”

  Mariam stood away from Dalia. She loved Dalia as her own mother, but Khalid’s words had moved her heart and the sands were shifting beneath her feet.

  “If you choose to continue then legally we first must establish and test for formal brain death,” said the Senior Registrar pointedly and directly to Dalia.

  Dalia’s eyes swept the room, her lips a narrow line. Steeling herself she nodded imperceptibly. “Go ahead,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

  The Senior Registrar glanced to the junior doctor on station. The woman shifted forward and began her work. She rolled back Samuel’s eyelids and shone a torch directly into his eyes. “I can confirm that the patient’s pupils are fixed and do not respond to the changes in the intensity of my light.”

  He’s not a patient, thought Khalid. He is my brother, Samuel. The baby of our family, the one who stayed and cared for our mother and our land.

  The junior doctor picked up a large syringe filled with a clear fluid.

  “What are you going to do with that?” asked Mariam.

  The Senior Registrar answered smoothly. “It’s only cold water. We will inject it into the patient’s ear. In comatose patients with cerebral damage, the fast phase of nystagmus will be absent as this is controlled by the cerebrum.”

  “I don’t understand,” stated Mariam.

  “Sorry, the cold water irrigation should result in deviation of the patient’s eyes towards the ear being irrigated. If we witness no eye movement this suggests the patient’s brainstem reflexes are severely damaged.” He waved on the junior doctor. “Please continue.”

  The junior doctor lifted Samuel’s head and began squeezing the water into his left and then his right ear. Samuel’s glazed eyes remained fixed on nothing.

  “The patient has a negative response to the caloric reflex test.”

  He’s not a patient, thought Dalia. He is my son, Samuel. He is my proudest achievement, the best of my boys. He would think of others before himself and he thought of me above all others.

  Next the junior doctor located the ridge along the upper portion of the bony structure on Samuel’s eye socket. Placing the tip of her thumb in the midline she pinched hard and straight upward. Samuel’s skin flamed an angry red. Dalia had to look away from the woman tugging at her son’s face.

  “The patient has not responded either facially or through movements in his hands and arms to supraorbital pressure.”

  He’s not a patient, thought Mariam. He is my beloved Samuel. We have known each other since we were four years old. At all times and everywhere I go I look to my left and expect to see him standing beside me. I close my eyes at night and expect to feel his arms holding me. He is Samuel, he is the man we are about to kill.

  The Senior Registrar summarised. “These tests coupled with the patient’s earlier MRI scans, in my medical opinion provide conclusive proof that the patient has suffered brain stem death. The decision as to whether you wish to terminate life support now formally lies with you, Mrs Srour.”

  “Leave it to God, Deedee,” whispered Mariam, her heartbreaking.

  Dalia looked to Mariam but it was Samuel’s older brother who finally spoke swaying the discussion decisively. “God already decided not to save Samuel a second time. We are just standing in the way of that decision. Let him go, Mama.”

  Dalia nodded slowly. She was unable to look at Mariam or Khalid. “You have my consent, Doctor.”

  Khalid turned his back to Dalia as his despair enveloped him. Through the tears burning in his eyes Khalid could see beyond the hospital windows to a myriad of people and burning candles, stretching as far back as the eye could see, pledging their support and their love to his family.

  The procedure ending Samuel’s life was farcically simple. The Senior Registrar reached out and flicked the ventilator’s master on/off switch to the off position. As the machine powered down Samuel’s chest rose then fell for the last time. His junior doctor with great reverence and respect removed the tube from his throat and placed Samuel’s head gently back on the pillow. His head fell naturally to one side. The junior doctor checked for a pulse. She found none. The doctors then left the family to their grief.

  “It is finished,” said Dalia.

  ***

  Timeline: The Pestilence plus 1 day. Information source: Email Message between Dr Hana Shihadah and Dr Mariam Fara.

  Subject: Photo

  Mariam

  Thought it would be easier to email than text. The picture you sent is indeed writing, not Hebrew as you correctly surmised but Aramaic. Two sentences; the first says “King of Kings” the other “Lord of Lords”.

  This expression, in this form, is found in two places in the Bible:

  Timothy 6:15 where it is used as a reference name for God; and

  Revelations 19:11-16 the chapter used to describe The Rider on a White Horse. “Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of Kings and Lord of Lords.”

  Hope that was useful.

  Hana.

  ***

  MARIAM, her head light, her body drowning in sorrow thought she felt the ground sway. She grasped Dalia’s arm for support and was confused to find Dalia also shifting to stay on her feet. It wasn’t until the cupboard above the sink burst open and paper towels showered the floor that Mariam realised it was the building that was moving and not her. The earthquake lasted barely a few seconds, a minor tremor, and all in the hospital room looked around in quiet astonishment.

  Khalid gazed back at the crowds outside. The quake happened so quickly the crowd’s initial reaction to the minor earthquake was one of quiet calm born out of simple confusion. Khalid’s scrutiny was drawn from the people to what looked like clouds streaming in from the horizon. From all sides they seemed to be racing towards the hospital at unnatural speeds. Dark and ominous the clouds congealed high overhead, a writhing, swirling, maelstrom completely blotting out the weakened sun. In just a few moments the bright, clear Jerusalem day had turned into an unnatural ghostly night.

  Mariam looked towards Samuel, who lay at p
eace on the hospital bed. Stefano was at the door and raised his hand in a half greeting. Mariam ushered him in. Behind him was a little girl.

  Dina darted past Stefano and dashed into Mariam’s arms. Mariam turned to obstruct Dina’s view of Samuel, but Dina squirmed fiercely stretching to look at Samuel’s lifeless body.

  “He’s dead Dina, you shouldn’t see this.” Mariam once again tried to shield the child from death.

  Dalia reached out to stroke Dina’s hair, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You came to see him, didn’t you?”

  Dina nodded.

  “I’m sorry sweetheart, but Samuel has gone.” The reality of her own words finally drove home to Dalia that her youngest had passed. He had gone from their lives long before his time. Dalia swayed on her feet and Samuel’s elder brother rushed to her side.

  Dina shook her head. “No, he hasn’t. I can see him, the angels can see him. He is everywhere.”

  Something organic flew into the windows. It was followed by another then another. The sound was like soft hail hitting a windscreen and it made all in the room turn and face the double windows looking out over the gathered crowd. Red and yellow slicks began covering the glass. The visibility outside grew steadily worse as the black swirling cloud started descending and the windows began to smear over. Mariam placed Dina on the floor and pressed her face to the glass for a clearer view of what was occurring outside. As she did so, a hideous black insect the size of her thumb landed on the glass. It had short, stubby wings, six legs and a vicious pair of pincers in its jaw. It tried in vain to chew through the glass, clawing to attack Mariam who drew back in disgust. The sky, the air and now the ground was full of these devouring insects.

  “The Pestilence is here,” whispered Dina.

  ***

  VICTOR was using his hands to pry open his own mouth, stretching his skin and his jaw far wider than humanly possible. He looked like a python distending its jaw to swallow a deer. Out of Victor’s enlarged mouth poured more of the Pestilence. Up they flew in their millions to join their brethren descending greedily from the sky.

  Victor was now concentrating hard, directing the mass of the Pestilence against the strongest and brightest auras around him. Those Healed with the most radiant auras were consumed first. At Victor’s command, hordes of insects swirled and massed forcing their way into ears, noses and mouths, cleaving through any orifice, any tear in the skin to devour every ounce of human aura. The appetite of the Pestilence was insatiable. A Healed stripped of her aura fell to the earth and clawed the dirt. The insects feasting on her once more took flight hungrily seeking out their next victim.

  The descent of the Pestilence upon the crowd caused a frenzied mass stampede as the people tried in vain to flee. Skulls were split underfoot, bones and tissue ground into the dust. The Pestilence feasted on the auras of the dying and the dead. Jostled initially by the fleeing crowd, for a time Victor commanded the insects to form a circling perimeter around him. As the crowd’s numbers thinned Victor simply pushed the swarming cloud wider and wider targeting not just the Healed but any ordinary person caught in the path of the swarm.

  Victor was reaching the edge of the envelope of his powers and he struggled to keep the insects alive any longer. Around him dead insects fell gorged and bloated from the air. They fell like rain onto the valley of death.

  12.14 p.m. Jerusalem time. Every single living being caught outside within a one mile radius of the St Luke’s Hospital perished in the Pestilence storm.

  ***

  Timeline: The Pestilence plus 1 hour. Information source: Video message from Victor Pierre Chaput.

  This is Victor Pierre Chaput and I run the Chaput Foundation. I feel I must offer my thoughts after the tragic death of my friend Samuel Srour and the horrific incident at the St Luke’s Hospital. Samuel and I spoke soon after the Electrical Phenomenon where he set out his plans to use his newly acquired powers for the benefit of all mankind. I immediately offered my assistance providing the staffing and financial resources that enabled Samuel to utilise the Teddy Stadium as his base for his healing activities.

  Samuel’s death was heartbreaking and it seems that the deaths of tens of thousands of the Healed at the very moment of Samuel’s passing were a symptom of how closely the Healed were tied to him. My heart and condolences go out to all those who lost loved ones.

  Samuel did offer a hope for a brighter future and the Healed plan based on the principles of mass selflessness was indeed a noble one. However, the death of so many of his followers and many, many ordinary people now brings into question the legacy the Healed set out to build. After the terrible events at the St Luke’s Hospital, we must now question the safety of having the Healed walk amongst us and assess correctly the dire threat the Healed pose to the rest of us.

  I believe that the grief we all feel at this terrible loss of life can be channelled towards something positive and meaningful. I run the Chaput Foundation which is dedicated to preserving our current way of life. This economic and political system that dominates the planet has driven the global expansion of the human race like no other. It’s not perfect but undeniably our way of life has lifted billions out of penury and poverty.

  The Chaput Foundation is dedicated to fixing the issues we have with our economic and political systems. The foundation works for a global redistribution of income from rich to poor. Something the governments of this world have consistently lacked the political will to do. We stand for the eradication of inequality and have helped over a million people rise out of debt poverty.

  We are resetting the economic clock to allow us to undo past mistakes and start afresh. Resetting the economic clock to allow us to innovate and build new technologies to reenergise the world’s economy back into one of growth and prosperity.

  God has given us the Earth and made humanity the masters of it. In Genesis he has told us “Be fruitful and become many and fill the Earth and subdue it.” We must exploit these bountiful resources of the Earth to serve our needs. We have a land of plenty, resources rich enough to provide for our children and their children for generations to come.

  Once again my heart goes out to the families of the people that have perished today but instead of sadness and grief I am simply offering a vision of hope for the future. Thank you.

  ***

  MARIAM and the others in the hospital room stared on helpless in horror. The insect plague had stopped. All who were moments ago holding candles and praying for Samuel’s soul were lying scattered, cut down as they ran or piled in grotesque mounds, their auras devoured by the hungry creatures.

  A dazzling light drew Mariam from the window and she saw Samuel sitting up holding Dina’s hand. Mariam closed her eyes for a moment, opening them again. Dina had now crawled into Samuel’s lap and he was calmly stroking her hair.

  Samuel then spoke. “The God of this system of things has blinded the minds of the unbelievers. We cannot help those outside, their auras are completely destroyed.” Samuel slipped out of the bed. “We need to leave this place. It was veiled before but now it is clear. He will be coming for us if he knows I’m still alive.”

  “Who will?” asked Mariam in wonder.

  “Let the person who has insight calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man. That number is six hundred and sixty-six.”

  Victor Pierre Chaput pulled the black trilby lower to cloak his eyes and strode through a sea of the dead.

  ***

  End of Book One of The Jerusalem Chronicles.

  Acknowledgements

  WITH eternal gratitude to my lovely readers: Rana Shihadah; Apurva Vyas; Sarah Bachra; James Pincus and Ruby and Matt Usher.

  Without your feedback, ideas and inspiration I would still be squinting at numbers on a spreadsheet. Love you guys.

  ***

  If you would like to peek behind the curtain and follow the trial of writing this book, from inception to publication, navigate to my Writer’s Diary: http://www.faisalansariauthor.com />