An excerpt from 'Set
Fancy a sneak peek at an early scene from 'Set? Read on...
Bryson closed his eyes, counted to three and opened his eyes.
“Everything all right?” Jim said.
“All right? I’m dead. You’re dead. We’re both dead and we’re standing here in a deserted hospital as if this is the most normal thing in the world.”
“It is normal, George. This is death. What’s more normal than that?”
Bryson could think of nothing to say. He looked to both ends of the corridor and saw the nothing he expected. A little morning light fell through the windows in his ward. One of them was open; no sounds came with the sunlight. Bryson stared at his brother.
“You’re really dead?” he said.
Jim nodded.
“And I’m dead, too?”
Jim nodded again.
“It doesn’t-” Bryson stopped. “I’m not sure. I think I mean. . .”
Jim laughed. “Believe me, George. This place changes things. You’ll see things differently pretty soon.”
“This place?” Bryson said. He felt slow; the space around them seemed to be passing by as if pushed by a strong wind.
“Where we are. This is a halfway place of sorts. Life is behind you; death is just outside. This is designed to give you a moment to adjust. I’m here to welcome you, to make sure you know where to go.” He slid an arm around Bryson’s shoulders. “Come on.”
Bryson let his brother walk him to the doors and then the stairs. A row of large windows on the other side of the stairs let in great sheets of light. Bryson shielded his eyes.
“Don’t worry. It’s not as bright once you get outside,” Jim said.
Bryson concentrated on the sound of their footsteps for a few moments before he could find his next question. “So, everyone dies and goes to something like this?” He waved an arm around. “Then they go where? Further?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
They reached the second floor and turned with the steps.
“Further,” Bryson said. He stopped. Jim did the same and searched his brother’s face. “Further,” he said again. “We’re talking about Heaven and Hell, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but relax.” Jim smiled. For a moment, Bryson was back to his childhood, now so long ago. He saw himself waving to his brother as Jim left to go and fight the war. That vanished August morning was all around Bryson, closing in with sights and sounds he hadn’t known in over sixty years.
“It’s all right,” Jim said again. “Anything beyond this is not as you imagine it to be. Heaven and Hell. . .well, you’ll see.”
Bryson closed his eyes, counted to three and opened his eyes.
“Everything all right?” Jim said.
“All right? I’m dead. You’re dead. We’re both dead and we’re standing here in a deserted hospital as if this is the most normal thing in the world.”
“It is normal, George. This is death. What’s more normal than that?”
Bryson could think of nothing to say. He looked to both ends of the corridor and saw the nothing he expected. A little morning light fell through the windows in his ward. One of them was open; no sounds came with the sunlight. Bryson stared at his brother.
“You’re really dead?” he said.
Jim nodded.
“And I’m dead, too?”
Jim nodded again.
“It doesn’t-” Bryson stopped. “I’m not sure. I think I mean. . .”
Jim laughed. “Believe me, George. This place changes things. You’ll see things differently pretty soon.”
“This place?” Bryson said. He felt slow; the space around them seemed to be passing by as if pushed by a strong wind.
“Where we are. This is a halfway place of sorts. Life is behind you; death is just outside. This is designed to give you a moment to adjust. I’m here to welcome you, to make sure you know where to go.” He slid an arm around Bryson’s shoulders. “Come on.”
Bryson let his brother walk him to the doors and then the stairs. A row of large windows on the other side of the stairs let in great sheets of light. Bryson shielded his eyes.
“Don’t worry. It’s not as bright once you get outside,” Jim said.
Bryson concentrated on the sound of their footsteps for a few moments before he could find his next question. “So, everyone dies and goes to something like this?” He waved an arm around. “Then they go where? Further?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
They reached the second floor and turned with the steps.
“Further,” Bryson said. He stopped. Jim did the same and searched his brother’s face. “Further,” he said again. “We’re talking about Heaven and Hell, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but relax.” Jim smiled. For a moment, Bryson was back to his childhood, now so long ago. He saw himself waving to his brother as Jim left to go and fight the war. That vanished August morning was all around Bryson, closing in with sights and sounds he hadn’t known in over sixty years.
“It’s all right,” Jim said again. “Anything beyond this is not as you imagine it to be. Heaven and Hell. . .well, you’ll see.”
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