The Dream Shadow

What haunts our dreams can reach out and strangle reality

“This is what I do, Dr. Malik. I find the pathogen and report back. To do that I need to meet with the sole survivor you mentioned in your report.” Gerri’s words singed within the tight cloth mask on her face. The heat and dust of the Lebanon clinic hindered each breath.

“I can’t tell you anything that will help you,” Dr. Malik said beneath a light German accent. “And please take off the mask, you don’t need it.”

“That’s what I am here to assess. Now who’s the survivor?” Gerri watched Malik’s head drop.

“You won’t believe me.” His voice trembled. His eyes traced down to the floor.

“You’re the survivor?” A day of rummaging through paperwork and the person she needed was right in front of her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I said, you won’t believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve worked in numerous countries assessing conditions such as these. Your clinic won’t be any different.”

“We’ll see,” Malik whispered.

 “I need you to answer my questions.”

“What I need is to get back to my patients, so be quick.” Malik stood with his arms crossed.

“All right, when did you feel the first on-set of symptoms?”

Malik paced a few steps in the stuffy room before answering. “Thirty-eight days ago at eleven thirty.”

“And that’s how many victims, correct?”

“No, thirty-seven victims.”

“Right.” Gerri’s eyes widened at the number. “Where were you in the clinic?”

“Asleep in that cot.” Malik pointed to the make shift bed in the corner of the small office.

“If you were asleep, how did you know you were feeling any symptoms?”

“Suffocation is not a disease.” Malik’s harsh tones surprised her.

“Are you saying someone tried to kill you?” She hadn’t considered a murderer. The reports she’d seen had been too consistent to suggest anything other than a viral pathogen.

 “Something tried to suffocate me.” Malik took in a deep breath.

“Some-thing?”

“Yes something, not someone.” Malik stopped. “I need to go.”

“Doctor, wait. If it’s not a virus, what do you think it is?” Curiosity rose in her voice.

“A demon,” Malik said before he turned out of the room.

“What?” Gerri rushed after the doctor into the patient filled hallway.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Malik said pushing through the crowds.

“That’s not logical.”

“Why does it have to be? There are just as many spiritual forces in this world as the viruses you hunt.”

“I don’t believe that.” Gerri followed Malik into a patient room.

“The crucifix at your neck suggests something else.” Malik picked up a bedside file.

“It’s a family heirloom.” Gerri tucked the gold necklace under her shirt.

“Why do you wear it?” Malik asked moving on to the next patient bed.

“My grandmother bought it, blessed by the Pope or something.”

“That still doesn’t say why you wear it.”

None of this made sense, and it wasn’t helping her investigation. With a determined sigh, she leaned in close to Malik’s ear.

            “Your files suggest someone is going to die tonight, unless you help me.” Gerri whispered.
            “I can’t if you won’t believe in something bigger than yourself.”

            “That’s not my job.”

            “But you can’t fight something if you don’t believe it’s there.”

            “This is insane.” Gerri turned out of the room. Everything inside of her wanted to prove Malik wrong. Angels and demons couldn’t exist. Not with all the suffering she had witnessed.

            Gerri searched the halls for the aide that picked her up from the airport this morning. He should have the samples collected by now. She looked at her watch: 8:12 P.M. She had three hours and eighteen minutes to find the pathogen, before someone else died.

            “You, wait,” Gerri shouted seeing the aide in the hall.

            “Yes, ma’am,” the young man said.

            “Have you collected all the samples?”

            “They’re waiting for you in the room five doors down.” Gerri set off without a word. She’d meant to say thank you, but 11:30 was getting closer.       

            Inside the lab she was surrounded by white sterile walls, pipettes, and Petri dishes- the things she could understand. To her, spiritual forces couldn’t hold ground in this room.

            Minutes passed faster than the samples collected. Test after test revealed nothing compared to the pathogens she had fought in the past

            Thirty samples remained, but her watch beeped: 11:20 P.M.. She couldn’t do it in time. One more person had to die.

            She expected to hear a knock on the door by 11:35 telling her about the next victim. But fifteen minutes passed. She peeled the gloves off her hands and stepped out the door.

            She walked carefully through the halls looking for Malik, but then something caught her eye.

            A small crack beneath one door down the hall revealed a violent flicker of light. Gerri moved quietly and slipped in. A rank smell invaded her nose, and the flickering lights made her stomach churn. Her eyes struggled between the dark and incandescent light, but she did see Malik. What is he doing?

            The doctor was kneeling at a patient’s bedside. Gerri could see the frail limbs on the bed convulsing under the weight of something unseen.

            “What are you doing?” Gerri grabbed Malik by the shoulders

            “Go away.”

            “She’s dying.” Gerri tried to shake him free from his prayers.

            “You’re letting her.” Malik pushed her away.

            “You’re crazy.” She got to her feet and ran to the door.

            “Don’t open that,” Malik yelled, but the tone of his voice scared her even more.

            “Help. Help.” Her shouts echoed through the hall sending people to their feet, but  suddenly the lights in the room stopped flickering. Gerri turned with a wrinkled brow to see Malik on his feet. The woman in front of him was contorted, as the men and women who had died before her.

            “What have you done?” Her words could barely escape the mask in front of her lips. Malik hurried with large strides and leaned out the door. With a few words he calmed the crowded halls. Then he shut the door and turned to her.

            “Please contain yourself to the lab or my office during your stay.” With a laden breath, Malik walked back to the contoured woman. Anger rose in Gerri’s chest as Malik set the bed sheet over the woman’s face.

            “Why didn’t you help her?” She said barely able to bring the words to the surface.

            “I was trying until you came in here.”

            “Do you honestly think prayer will get you anywhere?”

            “That is the only tool I have left in this desolate place.”

            “You’re a fool.”

            “Go back to your lab. Once I get permission for an autopsy, you can try to find answers that suit you.”

She turned to leave the room. But one question stopped her.

            “How did you know this woman would die?”

Malik glanced over his shoulder with tears on his cheek. “God showed me her face.”

What? Gerri’s mind shouted but her exhausted body refused to speak. Nothing made any sense. She walked back to the lab. She had to find the answer.

She felt her eyes sliding shut with another set of negative results in her hand. A knock at the door startled her eyes open. Gerri looked at her watch, 1:32 A.M.

“Come in.” She pushed herself off the stool.

“I thought you would want this quickly.” Malik rolled in a sheet covered gurney. Gerri’s heart trembled. She had seen this woman die, and this doctor had done nothing about it. “Can I give you a hand?”

“What?” Gerri asked softly still trying to wake up.

“You’ll need to work fast. I can help.” Gerri felt the compassion in Malik’s eyes, and she didn’t have the strength to fight him.

“Any coffee?”

“The strongest,” Malik said with a slight grin. Gerri shook her head. Nothing about this doctor made sense.

 

By 4:12 A.M., the autopsy was complete. Nothing significant appeared, but she had taken samples for testing. She placed fourteen collection tubes behind the twenty-five remaining and sat back down to work.

“You need sleep,” Malik said rolling the gurney toward the door.

“I need to run these samples.” Gerri yawned.

“They won’t do you any good.”

“Why because some demon killed thirty-nine people?”

“No, because test results are only as good as the person running them.” He stared at her for a moment before leaving the room. Gerri sighed. He was right, but she couldn’t let there be a victim number forty.

When the final sample was complete, her heart sank. Nothing conclusive. Her eyes struggled to see her watch; 2:31 P.M.

She couldn’t believe it was already the afternoon. She had been in the clinic for a day and awake for over twenty four hours. She put her head on the work bench. Just a couple minutes of sleep, and then back to work.

 

Suddenly the room shook. Her watch read 3:19 P.M., as the building shook again. The sound of thunder echoed around her, but the windows were full of the orange hues of sunset. Gerri hurried to the door.

The faces in the hallway were filled with terror. The stone beneath her feet trembled and the hallway filled with debris. Gerri felt her body crash against the floor with a blanket of dust enveloping her.

She found herself screaming Malik’s name. It was the only name she knew in this place. She felt a strong hand pull her to her feet. Her body couldn’t refuse. Moments later she found herself in a room, free from the dust and face to face with Malik.

            “Stay still,” he said. His eyes searched her for any wounds. “Still in one piece.”

            “What happened?” She asked before a raspy cough took over her chest.

            “A nearby bomb,” Malik said before scooting off to attend the others hiding in the small room.

            Tension held tight, as the thunderous noises continued around them. Her eyes ached, and her mind raced. Would more people die? Tears filled her eyes and her lungs forced another cough.

            She looked at her watch, as Malik took a seat next to her; 3:59 PM.

            “We have less than seven hours, before the next-”

            “Go to sleep.”

Something about him was calming, almost peaceful in such a war torn place. She closed her eyes. On the edge of consciousness, her mind toyed with the question of his faith.

Her dreams wandered the past and the present, but then her mind turned to something under the clinic door.

            A dark smoke slithered into the room avoiding the other people hiding around her. She could smell sulfur and the rot of death as the dark shadow came closer. She tried to move but her body refused. Her skin quivered as the shadow settled over her body. She tried to fight, but nothing gave way. The crushing weight of the shadow sucked away hope, sucked away life.

This was it. She was number forty.

Tears filled her eyes at the pain in her empty chest. The shadow was winning, and there was no way to fight. But then a warm sensation enveloped her hand, and the pressure lifted for a second.

            Malik is praying for me.

She could feel the weight increase. The shadow was fighting back. Her body was screaming for death, but her mind held to Malik. What felt like a million needles scraped over her skin, but the warmth kept coming.

Then she shot up with a gasp. It was gone. She sucked in a painful breath, coughing, and wheezing. She struggled to fill the emptiness of her chest. Every part of her was screaming for air, but then she felt Malik’s hand. She looked over at the doctor’s tightly closed eyes.

“Pray with me,” he said. The building shook and the flash of bombs and gunfire illuminated the windows.

            As air filled her chest she couldn’t deny what she had felt. She squeezed Malik’s hand and with a deep breath, prayed.