Part 54 (1/2)

”Tony?”

”Yeah, man?”

Danny collected his strength.

”Get me the f.u.c.k to a hospital.”

Chapter 79.

In the following days, the world would remember the strange happenings as freak occurrences and nothing more. The awareness of the populace's immortality for a week was never realized for what it was, much to the grief of a certain few. There were stories of shock and horror, of people suffering terribly yet clinging courageously to life, only to succ.u.mb in the end. And if the stories reached high enough ears, they would be smiled at, and perhaps there would be a chance debate on two of the greatest mysteries known as Life and Death. In time, the events that took place during Death's absence would be scoffed at, discredited as bad science fiction, even though a strange, eerie coincidence still remained...

The number of people suffering from various life threatening maladies or in critical conditions, who had all expired at exactly the same time on the same morning, across multiple time zones.

Almost as if Death himself had suddenly remembered them.

Eventually, that particular week in time would be reminisced by the first responders, the ambulance drivers and the people working the graveyard s.h.i.+fts in public mortuaries and hospitals. A tale told to the newcomers, just to see how gullible they were. Strange things happened around dead folks and the nearly dead. Strange things happened all the time. And when they did, it was best to just deal with whatever was happening, note it and quietly move on. After all, miracles of people escaping death did indeed happen. All the time.

Three of them were delivered to a hospital in Surrey, British Columbia, by a single man driving a fire truck. The man refused to give his name or any other information to the medical staff. He quickly unloaded the three men, evaded any attempt to keep him at the hospital and drove off. The police were contacted, and a deserted fire truck would be found later, north of Surrey.

Of the driver, there was no sign.

Months later, after numerous life-saving and reconstructive surgeries, steel plates, implants and finally physical therapy, the three miracles were strong enough to be released back into the world.

One of the men returned to the States. He went back to the place he called home, decided he had enough of his line of work, and eventually disappeared.

To someplace tropical.

The two other miracles were of a different mind. They had past issues unresolved, any one could see that in their rehabilitation. It was in the way they spoke to each other, civil yet wary. One therapist even remarked that she heard the soft spoken gentleman from Nova Scotia saying that things were ”still done” and that ”it wasn't over.”

Regarding whatever ”it” was, the constantly smiling gentleman from Newfoundland with the thick accent seemed only too agreeable on the matter.

But all agreed that it was heartening to see both men actually encouraging the other to get stronger. They seemed to draw mutual strength from each other's miraculous recovery.

Then, as all recovered patients do, they were discharged from the hospital. It was a bright day in late August, and the humidity factor was high. As healed as they were ever going to be, they drove away in their respective cars.

Both men drove north.

Sometimes one took the lead over the other, pa.s.sing on the straighter strips of highway.

They arrived at the two cabins on a Sunday. Both men got out of their cars, parked in the middle of the country dirt road. The air was warm and moist and full of the smell of trees. It was a lush contrast to when they had first come here. They could see that the owners of the cabins had never returned during the summer, thus the damage done in the winter remained. They gazed around the front of the second cabin, and remembered their battle with Pain. In the grey of the crushed stone road, neither Stickman nor Danny could see any evidence of the war they had fought.

”Well,” the Stickman said. ”'Twas wintertime.”