From the Ashes: A Psychic Visions Novel

by Dale Mayer

  He turned and crouched, making his way around the front to get to the driver’s side. No shots rang out. Nothing stopped him. He squeezed into the driver’s side, turned on the engine and backed up. They needed to get a little farther away before he could see anything. But it wasn’t easy to do. As he backed up, he thought he saw something off to the side. It made his heart freeze.

  He glanced at Phoenix and said, “I have to check something.”

  She stared at him in horror. “Please don’t. What if you get shot?”

  “I won’t be long.”

  She gave a broken laugh and nodded. “Go,” she said, “but hurry.”

  He drove up as close as he could to the overlook above the stream and hopped out, slowly making his way to the edge, a little farther away from where they had been—but where Rowan had last seen Haro before the shooting. As Rowan stood here, he peered over the edge and saw what he had been afraid of—just one corner of Haro’s brightly colored jacket at the top of the cliff partway below. The jacket was empty. No sign of Haro. But directly below him was the river of lava.

  Rowan’s heart sank as he considered the implication. But was it staged just to make a man, who possibly shot at them, appear to be dead, or had the shooter also taken out their driver?

  He dropped to his knees and peered farther over the edge, and what he saw made his blood run cold. A partial body was down below. But only partial. The lava had consumed most of it, with the top of a head and one arm sticking out, as if reaching up when he had gone over the edge. But no doubt Haro was dead.

  Swearing, Rowan pulled out his phone and took several photos because, by the time he got back with a team, he was pretty sure the lava would have consumed the rest of the body. Even as he watched, the rocks gave way, and the arm fell in the lava, obliterating any remains. Now Rowan really had no evidence. He went back to the vehicle, got in, turned on the engine and backed up. He drove back the way they’d come. He looked over to see Phoenix staring at him.

  “What did you see?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

  “Haro is dead,” he replied softly.

  “Was he shot?” she asked, twisting her head to look back. “Are you sure he’s gone? Maybe you were mistaken. We need to go back and help him.”

  “No,” he said. “He’s dead. I can guarantee you that.”

  She stared at him. “How can you tell?”

  “Because I saw the lava take his arm and head, and then that’s all that was left of him. He was consumed by the lava.”

  She sagged against the seat. “Dear, Lord. Did we do this?”

  He looked at her in surprise. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because he wouldn’t have come here without us asking him.”

  “Not true,” he said. “You have to consider the fact this is his job. He comes here all the time.”

  She nodded. “Right. So this could have happened anytime.”

  He doubted it, but he didn’t want to tell her that.

  She took several deep breaths. “I’m not feeling very good,” she said, suddenly woozy.

  “Hold on. It’s probably the adrenaline wearing off after the shock of being shot. We’ll get you to the hospital in no time.”

  She turned to him and said, “Maybe. But I think it’s too late.”

  He glanced over at her, his gaze sharp. “What do you mean, too late?”

  “I don’t think I’ll make it.”

  “No, don’t pass out on me,” he ordered, pressing his foot down hard. The main road was up ahead. He turned onto it as fast as he dared to go, the truck skittering sideways as his tires caught on the pavement to surge forward, and again he hit the gas. “Do you hear me?” he demanded. “You hang on.”

  But there was no answer. He turned to look at her. She was unconscious.

  Chapter 15

  Phoenix was caught up in a weird state of pain and confusion. She knew Rowan was here and someone else too. But she couldn’t figure out who the other person was. He was familiar, yet not.

  A third person joined them. They were wrapping Phoenix in golden tinsel. She couldn’t make any sense of it, but … something haunted her at the edge of her thoughts.

  Then she realized these other two were her same fictional childhood souls, helping her in her injured state. Had she called out to them?

  You don’t need to anymore. We know. We can feel your need.

  That was a musical female voice. And then came a gentle male voice. We are Stefan and Maddy. We have helped you many times in the past. Let us work. There is much to do.

  Thank you, she whispered in her mind feeling a connection in a way she’d never thought possible. Her mind didn’t recognize them but her soul did. I thought you were my imagination. Or maybe angels …

  Maddy laughed, her voice a bright light, whispering around her body. No, we are humans just like you. Just skilled … like you.

  The truck pulled into a parking lot, waking her up. That vision disintegrated around her. Her body jolted from the sudden motion, and she cried out, opening her eyes to see Rowan staring at her in fear.

  She gave him a pained smile and said, “Well, at least you know I’m alive.”

  “Sorry, I should have been gentler,” he said. He turned off the engine and raced to her side. He opened the door and helped her upright. She took several deep breaths, stopping the greasy waves of pain from taking over and knocking her out again. She could tell, by the look on his face, he knew how bad it was. He eased her feet out of the vehicle to the ground and asked, “Can you walk?”

  She nodded. “I can walk.” She proceeded to take three steps and collapsed. He caught her before she hit the ground but jarred her shoulder again. She began shaking, her body overcome with agony. In the distance, she heard him slam the vehicle door closed, and she was then scooped up into his arms, and he ran.

  She didn’t know where she was. “Are we at the hospital?”

  “Yes,” he said. “We are. Finally.”

  She felt the air temperature change and a soft hum and realized that large doors were opening, letting them in.

  “If it’s like any other normal hospital, we will wait for hours,” she muttered against his chest. She lay her head back, finding everything took way too much effort.

  “Not likely here,” he said. “Not unless there’s been a car accident.”

  She was placed on a gurney and heard rapid-fire voices speaking over her as Rowan tried to explain what had happened. She could hear the exclamation from the others; then she was wheeled away to a curtained bay, where she was surrounded by men. Her shirt was snipped off, and medical equipment was dragged closer. She cried out, “Rowan. Where are you?”

  “I’m here,” he said. “Let the doctors look after you. Don’t fight it.”

  She opened her eyes, but the bright lights above blinded her. She closed them again. “Get that guy, will you?” she whispered. And then he was gone under the commotion of sounds and noises and efficiency as people cut, snipped, poked, prodded, pricked, tested and moved her body as they needed to. She groaned many times until someone whispered, “Just breathe deep. The pain will go away soon.”

  She breathed in slow and deep, and finally the pain eased back.

  She was taken for X-rays, and the rest of her was checked over. She remembered somebody telling her that she would need surgery, and then she was wheeled into an operating room.

  She couldn’t be afraid. She couldn’t worry about how to pay for any of this; it was all happening so fast. The anesthesia mask came down over her face, and she was out within seconds.

  The next time she woke up, she was in a bed with curtains around her. She lay here for a long moment, assessing what had happened and how bad the damage was. She shifted experimentally, and the pain wasn’t too bad. She took several deep, calming breaths, and it eased back a little more.

  She could feel the burn now that she was more awake. She shifted again in the bed to get comfortable, and just then one of the curtains moved back.
A nurse stood at the end of her bed, frowning at her. Phoenix tried to smile in return.

  The woman asked, “How bad is the pain?”

  “Bad,” Phoenix whispered. “And getting worse.”

  The nurse nodded and made an adjustment on her IV.

  It helped immediately. Phoenix drifted into sleep again. Only this time her dreams weren’t nice. They weren’t peaceful. They were full of people getting shot. Men ran everywhere. Lava threatened to burn everything.

  Maddy? Stefan? Are you there?

  We’re here …

  When she came to the next time, her body was soaked with sweat, and hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Again she heard more voices. A calm murmur. A damp cloth was pressed to her forehead, and then she went under again, this time already sensing Maddy’s and Stefan’s presence …

  As she woke up once more, she recognized her surroundings. Her body felt as if it had been through a war and had come out on the other side. She lay here for a long time, remembering everything that had happened. And the weird Maddy and Stefan dreams.

  Not a dream, said a voice in her head. Rowan has been speaking with us. We’re people. Just like you and Rowan, but we’re also healers. And we connected to you as a child, … so that connection was already there when you needed us again.

  Thank you, she whispered in her head. I’m not sure what all you did, but my body isn’t screaming in pain anymore …

  Don’t worry about it. Just rest …

  Just then the curtain opened, and Rowan stood there, his forehead creased with worry.

  She gave him a half smile. “So, are you a natural worrier, or was I in a bad state?”

  “You were in a bad state after surgery,” he admitted. “It was too early to get a fever, so they’re thinking maybe you reacted to some of the medication.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you allergic to anything?”

  She gave a broken laugh. “I don’t know. I never had any medical care.”

  Silence. “You probably didn’t when you were younger, but what about in foster care?”

  “Only psychiatric care,” she whispered. “I made sure to stay away from doctors at all times.”

  “Why?”

  She shifted her gaze to look at Rowan in surprise. “Didn’t I tell you? Although he never practiced professionally, my father was a doctor.”

  *

  Rowan felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her and whispered, “Your father, the cult leader, was a medical doctor?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I always put that down to why he knew how to maximize the pain and to minimize the actual physical damage.”

  “Well, the doctors here have a lot of questions,” Rowan said. “I haven’t had time to study the X-rays yet, but they are something.”

  She stared at him, her gaze going flat.

  And he nodded. “Yes, that’s the thing about X-rays. They don’t lie, and I imagine they show a history of abuse. I thought it was just about the burns,” he said with a tilt to his head as he studied her.

  He couldn’t even begin to explain his reaction when the doctors had taken him to the side and shown him her X-rays. The multiple broken bones. The damage done over and over again. It was enough to make him want to upchuck. Not only was she scarred externally but she was badly scarred internally as well. There were punctures to her ribs, as if a spike had been driven in. The doctors had asked him for an explanation.

  He told them about her father. The leader of a cult, her father had abused her, beaten her and tortured her until she was eleven. Something in the emergency room team changed at that point. Their touches became gentler, as well as their voices. They had softened, as if understanding this woman had been through absolutely everything that somebody should never have to endure, and it was up to them to make sure she had minimal pain from then on.

  Rowan appreciated it, but, at the same time, just seeing those X-rays had been so very real and so very difficult. He couldn’t imagine anybody having done this to a child. Even worse, to one’s own child.

  How could she appear to be even halfway normal after what she’d been through? As he studied her cloudy, pain-filled eyes, he realized it was a miracle. A little warning came in the back of his head though. How normal could she be?

  Rowan picked up her hand gently. Having seen the images on the X-ray, where the baby finger had been snapped, where new bone had formed, he could see, as he stared at the finger, that it was stiff and didn’t quite bend properly. He rubbed the top of her hand softly and asked, “How are you feeling?”

  She gave him the same flat stare she used all the time, and he realized she probably had become so accustomed to pain that anything like this was minor. “I’m fine,” she said.

  “And, even if you aren’t, you’ll be fine, won’t you?”

  She raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

  He nodded. “I understand,” he said. “But you don’t always have to be tough.”

  “I’m not that tough,” she said in a whisper. “I wasn’t tough back then either. I screamed and cried like a baby.”

  He winced at that and knew she caught sight of it.

  “I’m sorry if you saw the X-rays,” she said. “I can just imagine what they look like.”

  “Have you seen them?”

  She gave a shake of her head. “No, I have no idea. I lived through all of it, so I’m not sure I want to.”

  “I’ll take pictures of them,” he said. “I think you should see them. No, not as a memory of what you went through but a memory of how far you’ve come. How strong you are to have survived all that.”

  “It was either survive or die,” she whispered. “And I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of dying at his hands.”

  He grinned at that. “That’s what I mean. I like that spunk, that refusal to give in to the evil people who did this to you. I’m sorry they’re all dead because I’d love to punish them myself.”

  “I don’t know that they are all dead,” she said. “Remember the siblings? They may or may not be alive. They did all partake in the joy of beating me up or targeting me.”

  “I still don’t understand that.”

  “Maybe not,” she said, her gaze shifting to look behind him, and he realized she still wasn’t sharing something.

  He hadn’t shared everything in his life either, and she’d had no choice but to have her secrets ripped open for all to see because of now being shot. The medical staff were still talking in the hallway about what they’d seen. They wanted to take different samples from her blood and her tissue. He’d okayed some of them but only if it would help her heal. Not for study, not for research and not out of curiosity.

  “I guess when you’re ready to tell me everything,” he said, “then we can sit down, have a cup of tea and talk some more.”

  “I’ll be gone by then,” she said.

  “You’re not going anywhere for a while,” he said, his voice calm. “The bus left this morning.”

  Her gaze slammed back into his and widened in shock.

  He nodded. “They couldn’t stay because you’re injured,” he said. “You have to understand that.” He didn’t know if he had released her hand or if she had jerked it away. He settled in the visitor chair near her hospital bed.

  “Damn,” she whispered. She slowly closed her eyes. “It was supposed to be a simple return trip. It’s something that would have helped me move on. Instead, look at me.”

  “The thing is,” he said, “you are alive. And Haro is not.”

  She lifted her gaze and stared at him.

  “Right?” he said with a sad smile. “It helps put some of this in perspective. All we found was his jacket, and I did see his arm and head as it went under in the lava.”

  “That’s so sad,” she whispered. “I never intended for him to get hurt. I never wanted anybody to get hurt.”

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But the bottom line is,
I didn’t force him. He was quite happy to take us. I don’t think he had any clue what he was getting into, but neither did we.”

  “Was he shot too?”

  “I’m not sure,” Rowan said. “Because we have no body, we have no way to find that out. What I do know is I only heard one shot. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss something.”

  “I know,” she said, her head twisting to look out the window.

  “I don’t know what I heard,” he admitted. “But I was so busy focusing on you …” He had a hard time with that, but he wasn’t sure what else to think. “… that I don’t know if he was pushed or if … he jumped.”

  She sucked in her breath.

  “But I’m not going there right now. We have enough issues to deal with. The last thing we need is to worry about something we can no longer change.”

  “That’s easy to say,” she said, “but it’s not so easy to release the guilt. Again.”

  “It’s not your guilt. It’s mine,” he said in a harsh voice. “I asked him. I’m the one who asked him to take us.”

  “So, now we can’t ask anybody else anymore,” she said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “And yet, why is it dangerous? Did you consider that?”

  She stopped and frowned, as if she hadn’t considered the question. “Right. Why was he shooting at us? We don’t even know it was a man, do we?”

  “No,” Rowan replied. He hadn’t considered that element, but their attacker could have been a female. “So, what reason is there for somebody to have shot at you at the edge of the lava fields?”

  “Somebody who didn’t want me to put that letter in the lava,” she said immediately.

  “And who would that be?”

  “Someone from the cult.”

  *

  That wasn’t exactly the way the Supplier had planned the session to go. He’d hoped to separate Rowan from the girl. Instead Rowan had glommed onto her. He was supposed to go help Haro.

  Talk about people not doing what they were supposed to do. How infuriating.

  Particularly as Haro was his victim, and Phoenix was supposed to be the offering to the Elders. She had to be alive going into the fires … instead she escaped. The Supplier placed the blame for this mess firmly at Rowan’s feet.