Paolo was shaking uncontrollably. His eyes darted from the three military choppers to the Asian man to the frail infant swaddled in his wife’s arm.
Defying his greatest fear, he shed the blanket, returning to his loved ones. “Francesca, give me our son.”
She saw the look in his eyes. The steel arm in his hand. “No!”
“Francesca… please.”
The others gathered around in silence.
The Elder watched, fascinated and humbled by the unfolding events.
“Francesca, it is a miracle that brought us here, now we must trust the cause of that miracle.”
Her eyes swelled with tears.
“My love, God has given us the tools, now it is up to us to act.”
She hesitated, then handed the blanketed newborn to her husband. “Go on. Sacrifice your son. Sacrifice yourself, too. I can’t handle this anymore.”
Gripping the steel limb in his right hand, his infant son cradled in his left, Paolo strode down the concrete boat ramp and into the harbor…
The brown maelstrom swirled overhead, blotting out the dawn. A cold December wind whipped up construction garbage and dirt into miniature tornadoes, then died.
Patrick Shepherd sat by the edge of the construction pit, alone, frightened, and lost.
The wind picked up again, howling through rivet holes in the bare steel girders.
Patrick…
The whispered voice was male and strangely familiar. Shep looked up, unsure.
You’ve endured a helluva journey, son. Now we need to start working on your mental game.
“Coach? Coach Segal? Is it really… what am I saying?” He gripped a handful of his long brown hair and pulled, doubling over in agony. “Get out of my head, get out of my head! I can’t take it anymore!”
I’m no hallucination, Patrick. You knew that the first time I communicated with you. On the roof of the VA hospital.
Shep’s skin tingled. He stood, facing into the wind. “You’re the one who stopped me from jumping?”
You trusted me then, son, trust me now. Everything you’ve experienced was real, except for the demon’s deception using my daughter. But you knew better. By trusting your instincts, you saw through the ruse.
“It’s true. I knew it wasn’t Trish, I knew it couldn’t have been her. When I’m with her, I feel… I feel—”
”Fulfilled.”
Shep spun around, his eyes searching for the owner of the new voice. He heard the sound of boots approaching on gravel and turned.
Virgil Shechinah stepped out from behind an earthmover and into a beacon of sunlight coming from a small break in the clouds. “And they said, come, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach to heaven, and let us make ourselves a name. So Master Dante, did you enjoy your excursion through Hell, looking for your beloved Beatrice?”
The mention of Dante’s deceased lover angered Shep even more. “You know, you’re a liar, old man. You told me you spoke with my soul mate. She’s dead. She died with my daughter in this very spot, eleven years ago.”
“Yes she did. And she’s very worried about you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you some kind of medium, channeling her spirit? Or maybe you’re an angel? Is that what you are, Virgil? An angel, hired by Bertrand DeBorn to drive me crazy?”
“Not an angel. And I never claimed to be a psychiatrist, nor was I referred to you by the late Mr. DeBorn. That was your assumption.”
“Okay, so you’re not a shrink. Then who are you? Why did you come see me in the VA hospital? Wait, I forgot… my dead soul mate was worried about me, so she sent you.”
Virgil smiled. “The eyes are the windows of the soul. Look into mine. Tell me what you see.” He removed his rose-colored glasses. “Go on, I won’t bite.”
Shep moved closer, gazing into the old man’s blue eyes—
— his consciousness suddenly overwhelmed by a squall of ethereal white light, its warmth seeping through his brain, bathing every cell in his body with a healing energy that was so soothing, so loving, that it caused him to giggle.
He awakened, disoriented and lying on the ground, smiling as he opened his eyes. “God, what a rush.”
“Let’s just keep it to Virgil for now, shall we?”
Shep sat up. Incredibly, the fatigue from his long night was gone, the cold no longer affecting him. “I don’t know what you just did, but if we could bottle it, we’d make a fortunate.”
“What you experienced was Keter, the Light from the uppermost Sefirot… the highest of the ten dimensions of existence. The energy is only accessible to man once a year, on the dawn following forty-nine days of internal cleansing after Passover. The date commemorates a connection to the immortality that existed on Mt. Sinai thirty-four hundred years ago.”
“Great, more riddles.” Shep stood, shaking his head. “Look, whoever you are, you’ve been a friend these last twenty-four hours, but maybe just once you could give me a straight answer, seeing as how we’re probably only a few minutes away from being incinerated by the Defense Department.”
“Time has no place in the supernal realm, Patrick. Look around you. Time has ceased to exist.”
Patrick looked up. For some strange reason, the brown clouds were no longer moving, as if frozen in place. “What the hell? Okay, wait, I get it. This is another hallucination brought on by that damn vaccine.”
“Everything was real. As for the vaccine, it was water.”
“Water? Come on.”
“Water is the essential component to existence in the physical world. Long ago, water was imbued with the essence of the Light, giving it the power to heal and restore, protecting man at the cellular level. Life spans were far greater. It was humanity's overwhelming negative consciousness that tainted water’s nature after the flood. The process is reversible through certain blessings and meditations, which return the water to its primordial state. The vaccine was a highly concentrated form of this cleansing water, called Pinchas Water. The Defense Department confiscated a supply that had been used by those possessing the knowledge to help clean up parts of Chernobyl. A noble effort, silenced once again by man’s ego. The Klipot woman gained access to the water while at Fort Detrick.”
“And that’s what kept us safe from the plague?”
“What kept you safe was your belief. The water was simply the medium used to mobilize your thoughts. To coin a phrase, it was mind over matter.”
“This is insane… or maybe I’m insane.” Shep paced back and forth, unable to process everything at once. “Maybe I’m not insane, maybe I’m just delusional. Wait… that’s it! It all makes perfect sense now. This whole little Wizard of Oz adventure… it all began when the chopper crashed in the forest. Everything I experienced from that moment on… you, miraculously showing up in Inwood Park, me, living out Dante’s Nine Circles of Hell while I attempted to get back home to my family, the ‘helper characters’ we conveniently managed to pick up along the way… even that wicked Grim Reaper witch waiting for me down in Hades… it was all just a dream, none of it actually happened. In reality, I’m still unconscious in the chopper, or better yet, I’m lying in a drug-induced coma in some hospital bed in the Bronx. And that rush I felt when I looked into your eyes… that was probably a B-12 shot the nurse just injected into my IV.” Shep beamed a smile. “That’s it, isn’t it? God, I’m good. I didn’t mean you, Virgil, that was just an expression, you know, like I was talking to the man upstairs. The real dude.”