Time After Time

As fate would have it, the patriot had survived the first wave of looters.  As he had surmised, after the climactic false-flag event and ensuing economic collapse, those controlling the government would, at first, leave the people to their own devices.  The beta-test of their response to Hurricane Katrina had told him that.   By the time the troops finally arrived, most were happy to trade their guns for food and protection from those of their own kind. 

But the patriot was not one of them.  Although he had prepared for all this, he knew that, if captured, he would be marched to the re-education camps where the sadistic scientific descendants of Project Paperclip could ply their trade upon him. 

As he saw the troops encroaching upon his property, the patriot knew it was the end.  He said a prayer to the universe to welcome him beyond the veil and racked a round into the chamber of his battle rifle.    

His world exploded in a blast of light as the thermal imaging that had guided the sniper and his bullet through the wall of his house had found its target.  The patriot had died instantly.

The funny thing was that those stories about near death experiences were true.  The patriot found himself above his own body watching the soldiers.  He had hoped it had been Chinese soldiers who had taken his life--but it was not.  One of them was kicking his body while another laughed.  The patriot laughed also.  They couldn’t hurt him anymore. 

But the sniper wasn’t laughing.  The shooting had done something to him.

The patriot didn’t know exactly where he was anymore.  He only knew that his greatest gift had accompanied him even after crossing over; the ability to grow in consciousness. 

Somehow, what had become of the sniper was always in the periphery of the patriot’s mind. He had seen how the sniper’s life had spiraled out of control since the day of his death.   

Soon after the shooting, the sniper got into a brawl at a bar.  His wife ended up leaving him as she could no longer handle his drunken rages.  He eventually lost his spot on the elite military team he had been on.  He could not get past the growing guilt.

The patriot wasn’t exactly sure where these glimpses he had of the sniper’s life came from.  But the tragic events were always known to him.   

The patriot watched the man who had once been a sniper sitting on his bed holding his handgun on his lap. 

At this moment, a woman in a flowing silk robe approached the patriot.  She was the first entity he had seen since his death.  The vision of the sniper with the gun remained in the background of his mind in a sort of suspended animation.  

“So, what do you think?” asked the woman.

“I don’t want him to take his own life,” said the patriot.

“Why not?” asked the woman.  “He took yours.”

“I don’t know,” said the patriot.  “He’s not what he used to be.  Maybe he will do some good for the resistance if he survives.”

“You want him to continue living?”

“Yes,” said the patriot.

“I’ll talk to him,” said the woman, disappearing from his sight. 

The vision of the sniper also vanished.  What replaced it were others he had never met.  They were with him here on the other side.  He knew intuitively that they too had been murdered. 

But the patriot soon realized that they couldn’t see him. “How did I get here?” asked the patriot to the woman who had now reappeared.  

In this realm, there are still a few veils that need to be pierced,” she said.  “When you asked that the life be spared of the man who murdered you, you graduated to the next level.  As you can see, you are not alone.”

“So, I’m being tested, even after death?”

“Only because you’ve made it this far,” the woman said.  “Sadly, most are not worth the effort as their inner journey ended while they were still in their body.  For many, their religions resulted in spiritual stagnation.  For others, the thirst for wealth and power altered their quest irrevocably.”

“But you put freedom above all else,” the woman continued.  “During the times in which you lived, doing anything else resulted in spiritual decay as all the institutions that the people served were corrupted at their core and resulted in systems of servitude.”

“With that being said, I have one more test for you before you can reach the next level,” she continued.

“What do you want of me?” the patriot asked.

“Are you willing to wait for him?” the woman asked.

“Who?  My killer?”

“Yes.”

“Wait for what?” the patriot asked.

The woman sighed.  “After the spirit departs from his body, he can never make it to the next level unless you accompany him.  And just to let you know, the man who shot you has done much for the cause of freedom.  And he has never used a gun again.” 

“How much time has passed since I died?” the patriot asked.

“Time here is not like it was in the dimension you left,” the woman said.

“What if the sniper had never changed his evil ways?” the patriot continued.

“Then you would not be given this test as he had chosen his way of life,” the woman said.

“So, the fate of his soul is in my hands?” the patriot asked.

“Not exactly,” the woman said.  “You can have an influence upon the karmic debt of your killer, but he must choose for himself whether to listen to me.  You see, I am your emissary in this cosmic communication.”

The patriot thought about his previous life and how for most of it his mind had been captured by both power-mongers and fools alike as well as the institutions he had so blindly served for so long.  He knew that he also could have been a traitor and a murderer had he not awakened from his spiritual slumber. 

“I will wait for him,” the patriot said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said the woman who once again departed from him. 

Once he had made the decision, the other entities around him could now see him.  They were all waiting for their killers so they could accompany them on their eternal journey. 

Time being what it was there, they didn’t have long to wait.