Chapter Six

Heath sat at his desk thoughtfully. He rotated his chair to face the wall behind him. Pushing the red button on the remote control in his left hand, he turned on the fifty- two inch, flat screen monitor, which hung on the wall behind him. It quickly went through it's voice guided starting options. He chose the source button on the thin black remote. "Source selection Open HDMI1-MHL," echoed through the large open space. "Source selection close HDMI1-MHL," the electronic voice announced. Suddenly, Faidh's sleeping image appeared on the screen. The blank expression on Heath's face quickly changed to tenderness. This WAS his Eve. She just HAD to be!

As he watched Faidh sleep, Heath thought about how different things would be for the world, now that he had found Eve. Humanity wouldn't die out. Heath was beginning work on his PHD in Biophysics in Nineteen Eighty-Five, when he met May-Ellen Reardon. She was a Math Major who believed the world would end through a new world war. She watched every newscast she could find. She subscribed to numerous newspapers. She spent hours at the grocery store magazine racks. Any hint of conflict anywhere in the world reaffirmed her suspicions. Heath would patiently listen to her daily comments of, "see, I told you it was coming," or, "This is going to be so so bad. They're just gonna wipe us all out," to "I hope you have your pantry ready. You're gonna need it!". 

Eventually, May-Ellen took Heath to a meeting "of like minded people," he fondly remembered her saying. That night changed his life. He had accompanied her strictly out of respect for their friendship. It really hadn't been something he had looked forward to, despite her week-long excitement and vivid descriptions; which he easily pretended to be listening to. He used the appropriate, "interesting," and "oh wow," often enough, she never noticed his reticence or hesitation. He took these moments to stare into her sparkling green eyes and wonder how she could be so blind to how much he loved her. He would do anything for her but. How he wished she could love him too. His soul ached to hear her say, "I love you," just once. How could she never understand after five years of friendship? Her emotional blindness baffled him.

Heath remembered the night his life had changed forever. He chuckled to himself, remembering his initial reaction as they pulled his battered, 1970, dirt-brown, Chevy Nova up to the abandoned Baptist Church building. "Hmm, you're sure this is the right address," he had questioned skeptically. "Yup," May-Ellen had answered, "We don't rent buildings and waste resources we could put to better use." Her beautiful Auburn hair was tied into pigtails that night. Heath was mesmerized by how they bounced as she spoke. "We find places nobody else wants," she proudly explained. "It's always better to use something that already exists instead of forcing new things into a limited space that doesn't really belong to us," she finished.

Hearing her answer, Heath swallowed the uneasiness climbing up his throat. He promised he'd try it, once. He hadn't said he would stay through the entire meeting. He raised his brows in an unspoken question, as he took another look at the decrepit building. He silently wondered what kind of people would choose to meet in such a foul environment. The outside of the building was littered with trash and years of debris. Tufts of long grass mixed with overgrown weeds grew in what should have been a welcoming courtyard. Trees were leaning and in bad need of pruning.

The white siding on what had once been a beautifully quaint building, had deteriorated. It hung precariously from rotting walls exposing tangled wires, rusted pipes, and small bits of soggy insulation. Colorful graffiti surrounded the building. Signs, words and images were proudly painted atop black signs and words, which seemed to answer the red graphics and signs underneath. Gaping holes flickered with the eerie glow of the many candles that had been lit and set inside the center of the building; lighting what was affectionately referred to, as "the sanctuary"; in preparation of the night's meeting. 

An inexplicable odor greeted Heath's nostrils as he exited the driver's seat. He was sure he'd excuse himself after five minutes. He had said he would attend but he hadn't promised how long he'd stay. He reassured himself he wasn't breaking his promise, nor was he being rude. He was simply be honest to himself and who he was. He felt uncomfortable here.

Heath was used to intelligent people, meeting on verandas or at sidewalk cafes. He frequented libraries and auditoriums. He was most comfortable attending lectures or going to thoughtful conventions related to medical or biological breakthroughs. He was brought up experiencing long formal dinners with his parents, where they would all engage in debate over the newest research developments in immunology; using these interactions as a substitute for natural affection. This environment was foreign; frightening. A shiver ran down his spine as he vividly recalled the physical fear he felt in those first moments. He eyed the tattered building he was about to enter. Surely May-Ellen couldn't fault him if he slipped out early. She knew him well enough to expect that, didn't she?

Heath couldn't imagine people choosing to meet in this place having anything intelligent nor interesting to say. He silently wondered how many of these folks were actually homeless. He felt extremely overdressed and out of place. How wrong he had been! How entitled his previous life had been! How easy it was for him to pass external judgement out as if it was his birthright! How ashamed he felt now, of the man he had once been. His life had changed so drastically since then!  

Heath chuckled at himself once again. Here he sat, in an empty and abandoned tire manufacturing factory! Although he had scrubbed it's cement floors incessantly, they still looked stained and dirty. The outline of massive machinery told of a history long into the past. He had carefully built the wooden frame for plastic sheeting which now surrounded his small contamination free lab. He pumped filtered air into the space but still caught whiffs of stale grease and tar. He had hung drywall and painted it white creating a semi-pleasant living quarter for his Eve. Yet, the vast factory still felt overly expansive and empty.

Heath could still smell the long removed machinery. The tarry smell of melted rubber still permeated the building. He welcomed the aromas. They kept him focused. They were a constant reminder of what he needed to accomplish. The memory of his beloved May-Ellen constantly drove him forward now, forcing him to complete his task; despite his distaste for the failures. A frown crossed Heath's face at the painful memory of May-Ellen. Quickly, he shifted back to the memory of his very first realization that HE, Heath, was responsible for saving Mother Earth. "This meeting of The Revelation Society will come to order," echoed from Heath's memories. "All four Horsemen are in place and we are ready to begin."

Heath shifted anxiously in his bruised and dented, metal folding chair. Cautiously he eyed the four men standing before the group of approximately thirty-five people. Their costumes were unusual. They felt almost religious to Heath. Each man wore a floor length gown inspired robe which resembled a judge's ensemble. The colors, Heath decided, were ceremonial. The first man wore a robe of Stark white. The second man's robe was blood red. The third robe was coal black. The fourth was pale green. Each robe had a large golden horse embroidered on the left breast panel. A golden roped hem had been hand stitched to perfection. 

Each man standing before the small crowd wore a pair of black, calf high, military boots. On his head, each wore a ceremonial cap matching the color of his robe. On it, were the words "Horseman" and a number; one, two, three and four. Their faces had been covered in stark white makeup with stars around the eyes and mouth matching their costume color. Each man held a leather bound book. Heath could see a vibrant picture of the planet Earth with a long, wide lightning bolt splitting the planet on it's cover. He was too far away to read the Golden writing.

"Father Pestilence will now take attendance," the first man spoke. "Afterwards we will hear a summary of Committee, followed by urgent business. Later, we will have a lecture from Father War on preparation and expectation," he gave a fatherly glance throughout the room; momentarily pausing to silently greet each member.  First, we'd like to welcome our newcomers, " he opened his arms in Heath's direction.  Heath shrunk in his chair as the man's curious eyes seemed to find him: boring deep into his soul. "Please introduce yourself and tell us who we have to thank for your presence," the man requested.  

Heath's mouth became instantly dry. His throat seemed to seize on command. He couldn't speak. He tripped over his own feet as May-Ellen excitedly urged him to his feet. "This is Heath," she bowed; shooting Heath an exasperated look. "I brought him tonight. He is a senior Biophysics Major at my school," she further explained. "I thought we could all benefit from knowing each other," she began to clap in a repetitive series of three claps followed by one. The room exploded in noise as everyone fell in, clapping to the very same, strange rhythm; including the four costumed men before them. Heath was captivated.  

Heath stayed spellbound throughout the meeting that night. He listened as each Horseman described in captivating detail how he believed the world would end. Each Horseman had a different opinion about the events which would end the reign of humankind on the planet. Yet, they were all in agreement; Earth had one hundred years left to its existence, at best. Mankind would end. The precious and exalted Mother Earth would start over; without human interference. She would remain.

Heath was introduced to each Horseman at the end of the meeting that night. He learned that he was now called a Revelations Soldier. He was handed a Bylaws and Beliefs Bible and a handful of instructional pamphlets on making preparations for surviving the Apocalypse. His mind raced. His excitement grew. His curiosity peaked. Could any of the ideas thrown around the room that night actually be based on any factual reality? Heath was a logical, relational thinker. He had to PROVE theory before he could believe it as reality. Somehow though, the idea of a finite limit to the seemingly endless and pointless life of man energized Heath. He wanted to believe in it's truth value. He NEEDED it to be true.