AFTER ALMOST HALF HOUR, THE CHOPPER flew over the sea in the Gulf of Mexico.
Doran in the plexiglass bubble gazed at the blue waters below. The Chinook now hovered lower, and Doran smiled to see a school of dolphins, racing after the bubble. His eyes widened when the chopper released the cable. The oval-glass crashed from ten feet into the sea...
The oblong glass weighty bubble, sank underwater, he saw the dolphins swimming around it — it slowly resurfaced, and floated on the glass surface with the metal ends on his left and right. Doran noticed water began seeping into the gaps. He opened the hatch at the floor side of the metal base — and he climbed out cautiously, with his bullet shrapnel excision injuries in mind...
There were twenty dolphins reeling around, and calling out playfully. Doran scaled on the top and laid flat, with his facial cheek pressing on the floating glass bubble. His hand hung down, a bottle-nosed dolphin nudged it.
He shut his tired eyes. He was exhausted under the baking sun as he held onto his blood clot bandages, tied over his belly — then the dolphin’s nudging touch — was replaced by a human-touch...
His eyes fluttered to some impending manifestation of movements — and he reopened his eyes to see Sister Lisa Marie. She was with the dead nuns and monk boys from the monastery, were close to the plexiglass bubble — they all stood afloat on the sea surface...
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The old nun walked forward on the ethereal water surface, towards the delusional Doran.
She reached out her hand...
“Doran, come join us — Jesus is waiting…”
His parched, salty cracked-lips whispered back to her, “Water…”
Doran was distracted by the blaring fog honks from behind him. He half-turned to spot a huge-sized, overcrowded barge coming towards him with Hajja, Ramirez and Li Chi onboard — their voices were calling out to him.
He turned back again over his shoulder — and the nuns and monks presences were gone.
The barge neared — and they reached the bubble to bouse-it-over — with another over two thousands of coalescing Mexican rebels, chanting out for the Preacher...
The languid Preacher had been floating at sea for the past two hours before he was lifted onboard into the welcoming arms of his blithe well-wishers of Mexicans — who the exile Mad Dog Salazar’s troops, the newcomers of the gratis contribution from the intelligentsia Mexican president, into the Preacher’s future war effort.
Hajja instructed the barge captain, in his walkie-talkie...
“Capt. Castell, before the coast guards catch on to us — take us all now to California!”
Doran peered up over to spot Sister Lisa Marie again with the rest from the otherworld chis — waving woefully at him from the waters behind before they all vanished once more from afar...
The barge then sailed into the American waters.
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End of Part 3 Of 5
NEXT:
The Second Coming
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