A man with black curly hair reaching his shoulders and a beard of the same color stood in front of the one window inside the hut, a dwelling where he was taking refuge. With his eyes closed, the man leaned his face into the light of the sun streaming in from outside.
Scattered candles behind the man lit the hut, along with the slanted sunlight. Lazarus pierced his hand into a beam of light, speaking aloud in Aramaic.
"I still feel the warmth of—" Lazarus began to say as a low tapping sound at the hut's door opened his blue eyes. Lazarus stared at the door, hoping the sound was something just imagined. Two more gentle knocks, and Lazarus knew he'd been found. The ones who hid him would tap on the door five times and then speak his name backward—Surazal. This did not happen.
He carefully walked past the door toward the only other way out of the hut—a small room at the back of the home with a crawl space leading underground to unoccupied neighboring homes. Lazarus took each step slowly and silently until he heard his name spoken by a friend.
"Lazarus, it's me, Clopas."
Close to the floor, by the side of the door, a small crack in the wall had been chiseled out for the purpose of viewing visitors from inside the hidden sanctuary.
Lazarus was sure the voice behind the door was his friend Clopas. But he had to consider that his friend may not be alone. He may have been forced at knifepoint by others.
Lazarus got on his hands and knees so he could look outside. He could see Clopas standing alone with his head lowered.
Lazarus got up to his feet, lifted the wooden beam securing the door, opened the door, and faced his friend. He quickly led Clopas inside the hut and closed the door, wedging the wooden beam back into place. Clopas leaned against the door with his arms behind his back for a few seconds. He then spread out his arms, smiling at Lazarus, a gesture saying no enemy will ever enter.
Lazarus placed his hands on his friend's shoulders and drew him close as Clopas spun him around in a friendly roughhouse way while they embraced. Lazarus pulled back from the embrace to face Clopas. He walked Clopas away from the door, bringing him deeper inside the hut.
"It is good to see you," Lazarus said.
"Lazarus, there's a powerful group of priests in the temple searching for you and Jesus, accusing both of you of staging your resurrection. Caiaphas is leading them. He has influenced most of the priests with his skilled way with words. They are planning to kill Jesus."
"How do you know this?"
"It is what I've been told by another prophet."
"Another prophet?"
"He stands behind you now."
Lazarus turned. The shadowy outline of a man stood by the door, and the door’s wooden beam could be seen on the floor. Lazarus looked back at Clopas, pointing a finger toward the beam on the ground.
"You did this?"
"Yes."
"Why would you lead this man to me?"
"This is an important man, one with vision. He needs to know where Jesus is. I beg you, my friend, tell him."
"Do you know what you've done, Clopas? This man will—"
Before Lazarus could finish, Rydel closed in and stabbed S-7 into his forearm. Lazarus stood unmoving and wide-eyed, the S-7 needle sticking out of his arm. Rydel stepped in front of Lazarus and studied the man for a moment. He then pulled the needle out of his arm.
"You will take me to Jesus," Rydel ordered the man in translated Aramaic. "And never ask me what's covering my mouth or about how my voice sounds. Understand?"
Under the influence of S-7, Lazarus nodded at Rydel.
"Take me to Jesus, Laz—"
Lazarus's elongated gait had him at the door before Rydel could finish saying his name. He swung the door open and was gone. Lazarus walked at a brisk pace until Rydel caught up with him on a dirt path leading away from the hut and reached out for his arm. Lazarus pulled away from Rydel's grip and continued forward so he could do what he was told to do. Rydel stumbled a couple of steps and then ran past Lazarus, holding up a hand for the man to stop.
"Stop!" Rydel shouted at Lazarus three times before his translator repeated his words in Aramaic back to Lazarus. Lazarus stopped. Not all the kinks had been worked out with S-7. Some people needed to be explicitly told what to do step-by-step. Unlike Clopas, who always made sure he understood what he was being ordered to do, others who were tested and put under the influence of S-7 would run off right after being given an order—like Lazarus—and perform the task as quickly as they could.
"Do not run off without me telling you to do so. Do you understand?" Rydel said, inches away from the face of Lazarus.
Lazarus nodded.
"Now, Lazarus, without running, and with me by your side, take me to Jesus."
"I will take you to Him."
"Good. Go—and go slowly."
"You are here to help Him?"
Rydel stepped back, not sure of what to make of Lazarus's last response. Lazarus said it as if asking a question. Those influenced by S-7 did not ask questions with concern in their voice the way Lazarus had just done. After a while, they would become somewhat normal again. However, at first, when shot up with the drug, they were robotic.
"Yes, I'm here to help Him. How do you know that?"
Lazarus did not answer. He just stood in front of Rydel, waiting for orders.
"Lazarus, answer my question."
"What question? I do not understand. Do you still want me to take you to Jesus and not move so fast?"
Not sure if he had correctly heard the emotion in Lazarus's voice seconds before, and relieved that the man was now under total control, Rydel pointed for Lazarus to lead the way, and he did, slowly. Behind Rydel, Clopas waited, smelling badly like the fish he sold at the market.
"You need to bathe, Clopas. You smell like a walking fish."
"I will do so now."
"I was being humorous, Clopas. Do you see any water around you?"
"No."
"Keep following me at a distance to make sure we are not followed."
"Was what you said to me now humorous? Should I laugh?"
"No. Go, Clopas!"
Clopas turned and ran off. At a slight jog, Rydel caught up with Lazarus. Side by side, the two walked down a dark path, turned down another, and faced the barren land outside the small village where Lazarus was taking refuge.
Rydel and Lazarus walked without saying a word. Lazarus stopped and turned to face Rydel, touching Rydel's face. Lazarus drew back his hand and continued walking. Rydel stood unmoving for a few seconds, then ran and caught up to Lazarus plodding across the wasteland.
"Why did you touch my face?"
Lazarus stopped. "So I could feel your soul. As much as you are controlling me now, a part of me cannot be controlled. I have been outside this world; a piece of my soul is still there."
"I don't understand, Lazarus."
"You cannot understand. You have not died yet."