Valley of the Shadow by Tom Pawlik Page B

. . .” Henry rubbed his jaw. Conner could see he was trying to choose his words carefully. “Some of them think you’re becoming a bit of a . . . well, a zealot.”
        Conner blinked, then chuckled. “A zealot? C’mon, Henry . . .”
        “Connie, you’ve gone from being a hard-core skeptic to the apostle Paul in a matter of weeks. Didn’t you think that might be a little disconcerting to some of your friends?”
        “Look, maybe I’ve been a little overeager,” Conner said. “But I’m not trying to preach at anyone. I just want to share what I experienced that night. I almost died, Henry. It had a profound effect on me and my outlook on life. I think it’s a pretty important subject. I mean, we’re all going to die sooner or—”
        “See . . .” Henry held up a hand. “That’s the thing. People don’t like to talk about death all the time.”
        “I don’t talk about it all the time.”
        “Well, they say you’re sounding obsessed.”
        Conner frowned. “You’ve had complaints?”
        Henry shook his head. “Just overheard bits of conversations.”
        Conner sat back and folded his arms. “Well, I wouldn’t describe it as obsessed. I just think in general we should be more aware of the fact that none of us knows how much time we have.”
        “We’re all aware of that, Connie. Most of us just try not to dwell on it so much. It’s a depressing subject.”
        “ Depressing isn’t quite how I would describe it. More like terrifying. ”
        Henry sighed. “These so-called near-death experiences are actually quite common for people in your situation. And easily explained…”
        “Not mine.”
        “Look, I’m not trying to repress your need to talk about what was obviously a very traumatic experience.”
        “Henry . . .” Conner leaned forward. It was time to lay his cards on the table. “You don’t know the whole story. I mean of what I went through. This wasn’t some hallucination or a bunch of random brain synapses. And I can prove it.”
        Henry blinked. Then frowned. “How?”
        “When I was dying, this place where I found myself . . . I wasn’t alone there. I met five other people who were all dying too. All at the same time.”
        “What people?”
        “I had Nancy look them up. After the heart attack, I called from the hospital and gave her a list of names: Helen Krause, Mitch Kent, Devon Marshall, Ray Cahill, and Howard Bristol. These people are real. I had never met them before. Had no knowledge of them. But they were all dying too, at the exact time I was having my heart attack. And we all crossed paths in that . . . that place.”
        “What are you talking about?”
        Conner hesitated. It had been hard enough to share the details of his experience with Marta; how could he possibly let Henry know? For two months, he’d kept it secret. Bottled up. Afraid of what people might think. But maybe that was the point. Maybe God was wanting him to share it. No matter how crazy it made him look.
        He took a breath… and a leap of faith. Then, starting from the beginning, he relayed all the details of his experience. The storm, the creatures, the seizures, the mysterious boy who had saved him. Everything. Henry listened without interruption. Almost without expression. He just sat there and stared at Conner.
        When Conner had finished, Henry said nothing. His gaze lowered.
        After a moment, Conner said, “Well? What do you think?”
        Henry took a deep breath and shook his head. “I think I’d like you to take some more time off.”
        Conner narrowed his eyes. “You don’t believe me? Check with Nancy. I’ll give you the list. Check for yourself—”
        “We can handle things here. I’ll put in a few more hours if I have to.”
        Conner sat back and laughed. “Henry, I have