K’chal nodded. “That is correct.”
Without thinking John intuitively added: “And this isn’t a particularly unusual situation for you, is it?”
K’chal flashed a look at Daniel. “I see what you mean about this one, Daniel.”
Daniel nodded. “And most of the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”
John was about to interrupt their conversation and remind them that he was sitting right there; but he looked at the reverend and realized the old cleric was having a hard time. He figured he better find out what this was all about while Medhurst was still able to tell them.
He quickly turned his attention back to the reverend. “Not that I’m not glad to see ya again, Reverend. But, now we’re all here, like ya said, can we get down to what this is really all about?”
The reverend was relieved that he would finally get a chance to explain. “Quite so. Straight to it, then.” He frowned as he directed his next statement to John. “Actually, dear boy, it concerns Brendan Babbitt.”
Now it was John’s turn to frown. “So it is him again?”
This surprised the reverend. “He’s already approached you?”
“No!” John said. “But I had a … a … kinda premonition, I guess you’d call it.”
“See, K’chal?” Daniel quipped. “Hasn’t got a clue.”
John glanced at Daniel and nodded in the direction of Reverend Medhurst. The old cleric was struggling and there was no way he could even attempt to hide it any longer.
Daniel immediately picked up on John’s alert. “You were saying, reverend?”
“Well, John, my boy … you were right … I am afraid,” His breath was forced and too shallow to be healthy. “Some time after your last visit, I was forced by circumstances ... and a number of doctors who felt I had waited far too long to do so ... to have Brendan placed permanently in a sanatorium. For his own good, as well as the safety of others, you understand,” he quickly added, sounding apologetic.
“Sounds like a no brainer to me!” Daniel said. There was no hint of humor or sarcasm this time.
“You are probably right, Daniel,” the reverend said sadly. “But I cannot say I felt good about it. Of course, I tried to keep tabs on him as best I could.”
“So are we to understand that something about this arrangement has changed?” K’chal asked.
“Oh, yes. Yes indeed. My current weakness hindered my ability to keep connected with Brendan.” The reverend stopped … took a number of quick, painful breaths, and then continued “While I was seriously incapacitated I’m afraid he ... escaped after killing an orderly. The authorities at the sanatorium believe the guard had a heart attack, and when he collapsed Brendan escaped. I am afraid I cannot tell you how I know; but I know they are wrong. Other forces are at work here.”
“Do we know where he is now?” Daniel asked.
“Or have they already found him?” Jennifer added.
“Not as yet,” The reverend answered, “though they are looking. Still I am afraid they may not find him in time.”
“In time for what,” Jennifer asked. “What is you are afraid of, Arthur?”
The reverend began to wheeze. He was clearly in trouble, but he valiantly pushed it aside. “My … ah … my connection with Brendan is almost nonexistent at the moment. But the last time I was privy to his intention, there was little doubt what was driving him; or what he had in mind.” Another bout of wheezing ripped at the old cleric, and it was a good few minutes before he was able to continue.
The other four sat quietly waiting for him to catch his breath.
“John! I have no doubt that what you saw in your visions was some kind of reflection of the truth. Babbitt hates you and wants you dead ... though I must admit I am still not sure exactly why. His hatred has not diminished in the least over the last year or so. In fact, if anything it is now more intense … more driven. So, I thought if you could be here, with some of that help I told you you might one day need, you would be more equipped to stand against whatever he might attempt to do.”
He took as deep a breath as he could and forced out the words, though his voice was becoming noticeably weaker. “I am afraid I am not at ... full strength. But I may still be able to help.”
He suddenly broke into a heavier spell of coughing and slumped back in the bed.
Jennifer hurried to his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Arthur, this is too much for you. Let me find the nurse; we’ll come back when you’re stronger.”
The reverend was very feeble; but his words carried an intense urgency “No! We must stay together. There are plenty of rooms in this old place. I had Mrs. Ridgewood, the Rectory Housekeeper, make some up for you.”
“We can’t do that!” John was worried that the strain of them being there would be too much for the old cleric. “It’s too much of an imposition. We’ll wait until yer stronger and then–.”
“–I believe the reverend’s idea is sound, John,” K’chal cut in. “I have no firm proof, but I am sure something very dark has its eyes fixed firmly on you.”
Daniel was unusually serious. “Can you be more specific, K’chal?”
“I am afraid not, Daniel. But the presence I am sensing is close ... and is something I feel we should all be careful not to underestimate.”
The reverend pushed himself up into a half-sitting position, agitated now, and tried again to speak. “We must all stay togeth–”
But this effort was finally too much for him and his entire body drooped forward.
Jennifer attempted to get him to relax. “Please, Arthur. Don’t worry yourself, so. If you feel it’s that important, of course we’ll stay. The boys can have our things here in less than an hour.”
“No worries,” John quickly stated.
“We’ll hurry back. Don’t’ fret, Reverend.” Daniel tried on a cocky smile, but his concern was obvious.
“There is no need for you to worry, sir,” K’chal added. “We will be back long before any trouble can arise. I am sure of it.”
“So you just relax, Arthur.” Jennifer said as she flashed a thank you smile at the three guys, and they each nodded back.
The reverend sighed heavily, relieved, and finally he sagged back in the bed, his head sinking into the large pillows. “Good. Good.”
*******
John woke with a jerking abruptness that usually heralded some kind of dire emergency. The first pale glow of morning was just beginning to fill the small room with light. He was stretched out in the single bed in what was essentially an old converted attic in the Rectory of St. Johns Church. Every muscle was tensed. His inner senses were on high alert. He stayed perfectly still, rigid, listening. Something had unceremoniously ripped him from a deep sleep; but he couldn’t figure out what the problem might be, if there was indeed a problem.
“John! I need you! Come quickly!”
The voice seemed to come from the doorway. John sat bolt upright, expecting to find Jennifer standing there. He was stunned to see the door still closed tight and no sign of Jennifer – or anyone else for that matter. But that didn’t slow him down. In seconds he was on his feet, pulling on a dressing gown as he headed for the door.
*******
John hurried into the rectory sitting room and found Jennifer standing a few feet from the temporary bed. A nurse in a hospital uniform hovered over the prone figure of the reverend, checking his heart rate with a stethoscope. An oxygen mask covered his ashen face. He was unconscious, his breathing forced.
Jennifer hurried to John’s side. “Thank God you’re here.”
“I heard yer call.” He frowned, suddenly unsure. “I think.”
Jennifer didn’t bother to pretend she hadn’t somehow called him; or give some other explanation. “I’m sorry, John. But I thought we all needed to be here.”
He checked out the bed. “What’s happened?”
“Sometime during the night he took a turn for the worst. And he’s been getting worse by the minute.” She
wrapped her arm in the crook of his elbow and hugged it tightly. “I’m really worried. “The nurse called for an ambulance just before I called you all.” She fought back tears. “John ... he’s so weak.”
“Don’t worry, Jen.” He held her close, trying to instill a confidence in her he didn’t feel himself. “He’s a feisty old bird. Don’t count him out.”
K’chal and Daniel hurried down the stairs and joined them.
“Got your call,” Daniel stated, as if it were a perfectly normal way to communicate. “K’chal was already in the hall when I got out there.”
There was no need for either of them to ask what was happening; it was all too obvious.
John stared worriedly at the reverend. “How soon will the ambulance be here?” The old cleric’s breathing was so shallow and forced that he was worried the ambulance might be too late.
The ding-dong of the ancient rectory doorbell answered John’s question. At almost the same moment the front door abruptly clacked open and Mrs. Ridgewood’s anxious voice was heard instructing the emergency team. “He’s in there,” they heard her say. “Please hurry!”
“I’d like to go to the hospital with him.” Jennifer aimed her statement at all three men. “But I am worried about you, John.”
“I’ll be fine, Jen. Ya just do what ya have to and don’t worry about me.”
Jennifer flashed a worried look at Daniel and K’chal. “Will he be all right?
Daniel didn’t feel much like grinning; but he felt Jennifer needed it, so he cracked a broad smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him out of trouble.”
Jennifer understood Daniel was trying to ease her concern so she tried for a laugh. But there was precious little humor in it. “Now that worries me.” Her stern gaze quickly returned. “I’ll call you from the hospital to make sure you are all right.” She glanced at the reverend. “And to let you know how he’s doing.”
Since he had entered the sitting room K’chal had stood almost motionless, staring off into space at something they couldn’t see. Whatever it was he was consulting, he’d made a decision. “I will accompany you to the hospital,” he said, his words a statement, not a suggestion.
Jennifer couldn’t hide her shock. “But what if Babbitt comes here, while you’re gone?”
“I need to be with the reverend and you at the hospital.” He didn’t bother to explain any further, but stared into her eyes.
After a few seconds Jennifer acquiesced. “You know best.”
John wasn’t quite sure why she suddenly changed her mind, but he felt K’chal’s decision was the right one. He didn’t understand that either.
A two-man Emergency Ambulance Team hurried in pushing a gurney. Its wheels clattered loudly on the ancient tile floor as they positioned it beside the temporary bed. With a smooth, practiced precision, they lifted the reverend onto the gurney and in seconds it rattled out of the living room.
Jennifer kissed John, then stood back and stared at him. “Call me if you need to … understood?”
And John did understand. He didn’t know how it worked. He couldn’t have really explained it to anyone. It worked, and that was all that mattered. It was Jennifer’s voice he heard in the attic room. She had called him. And he had no doubt that should the need arise; the strange communication they shared could be used again.
Jennifer hurried off after the Emergency Ambulance Team.
K’chal was talking softly with Daniel. John joined them, and the aborigine moved to include his Australian compatriot in the conversation. “Stay alert. Whatever has its sights on you, John, is coiled like a snake waiting for the right moment to strike.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
“I believe I am needed at the hospital. But I will return as soon as I can.”
Daniel nodded. He accepted K’chal’s explanation with the kind of trust only gained through past experience. John, however, had no past experiences to draw on. He was worried that only he and Daniel would be at the Rectory. But I’m not gonna be the weak link here, he told himself. I won’t allow that.
He kept his concern to himself as he watched Jennifer and K’chal follow the medics out of the Rectory.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jennifer and K’chal stood waiting in a long forest-green hallway of London Central Hospital, outside the Reverend Arthur Medhurst’s room. Inside two doctors hovered over the old cleric who was stretched out in the room’s single hospital bed. He was now under a full-size tent connected to a series of electronic machines that constantly fed him oxygen and medication, and monitored his ailing vital signs. The frowns on both doctor’s faces didn’t suggest good news.
Jennifer stood by the door, and stared through its small window, her eyes glued on the scene inside. K’chal was a few feet away continually scanning the area, his eyes sweeping back and forth. A concerned scowl now furrowed his strong forehead.
Jennifer finally glanced away from the window and quickly went to K’chal’s side. “What is it? What’s worrying you?”
The tall Aboriginal hesitated before answering. “I am not sure. But … something is not right.”
“Is it Arthur?”
“I am getting confused signals I must admit I do not understand.” His eyes scrunched up as he strained to clear his thoughts.
Jennifer gave him a few quiet minutes, but finally asked, “Can I help? This doing nothing is killing me.”
K’chal rolled his head back and forth trying to loosen the muscles in his neck, and then stretched his wide shoulders. “Perhaps together we might be able to clarify what I am feeling.”
“I think it’s at least worth a try.”
“I sense something hovering around the reverend,” K’chal stated matter-of-factly. “And while I am sure it contains inherent danger; I am unable to see clearly what exactly that danger is, or how it might affect him.”
“You and I have never connected before, so I am unsure if it might work.” Jennifer could not hide her mixture of worry and a slight twinge of excitement at possibly connecting with this enigmatic man she so highly respected. “But together it is possible we might be able to break through any barrier stopping your progress.”
“We best do whatever we can. I may be unable to pinpoint exactly what the danger is; but my sense is that whatever it is will reach perigee very soon.” He now turned his full attention to Jennifer. “What must we do?”
Jennifer motioned towards the nearby alcove where family and visitors waited to hear news about the patient they were here to see. Its walls were lined with padded chairs and it was empty at the moment. K’chal followed as she walked to the farthest row of chairs from the passing foot traffic and they both quickly sat.
“I will need you to open yourself to me as much as you can and still feel comfortable.” Jennifer said. Then she quickly added. “You have my word that I will not intrude in any way into areas of your personal self not necessary to what we are attempting.”
“I am ready,” K’chal said in his normal stoic fashion.
Jennifer sat quietly and began to center herself. She gathered her thoughts, her breathing, her very essence, into a point in the middle of her forehead directly above and between her eyes. Everything else – the noises of the hospital, the people passing, even K’chal – was soon gone, as if it had never existed. In its place was a light so pure no words could ever begin to explain it. If she allowed it, if she let herself flow into the light, become the light, all which was once Jennifer Carron would be no more. But it was not time for that; not yet. As she had so many times before, Jennifer held tightly to the ego-self that defined her and sent it outward, searching for a distinct and unique individual.
K’chal had composed himself as well, prepared himself for whatever was to come. But he was still surprised when a wave of light streamed into his consciousness, swept over him, engulfed him. It took his breath away. It was at once wondrously beautiful and so powerful a part of him could not help but feel a hint of fear. He quickly pushed h
is concern away as the light lifted his consciousness like a feather and carried it forward. They did not travel, exactly. But one second he was basking in the joyous warmth of the light … and the next they were hovering above Arthur’s prone body. A strangely alien barrier – something dark, twisted, ugly to its very essence – tried to bar their way; but it was brushed aside like so much dust in the wind.
In an instant, the truth lay open for them to see: this was a diversion, a trick, a game of smoke and mirrors meant to draw K’chal and Jennifer away from the rectory.
John was in trouble.
*******
John sat at the table in the Rectory Sitting Room and stared off into space, deep in thought, worrying about the reverend. “I wish they’d call, Daniel.”
The New Yorker stood at the nearby large bookcase, leafing through The Reverend Medhurst’s collection of books on the occult, demonology, exorcism and the supernatural. He put back one book he’d been reading, pulled another from the case, and opened it as he walked back to the table. “That’s at least the tenth time you’ve said that, John.”
“Yeah, I know.” John tried to lighten his mood. “I’m sure he’s okay or they would have called.”
Daniel didn’t need to be psychic to know John was feeling vulnerable. It wasn’t his fault. This was all still relatively new to him. He figured it was his job to try and get the Australian to relax, and the best way he knew off was small talk. Let’s chat about this book, he thought impulsively, and scanned a few lines to find something clever to say. He suddenly realized it was a book the Reverend Medhurst had actually authored, and almost against his will, he found himself reading more than he planned.
By the time he spoke to John, he had more than just small talk on his mind.
“John,” he said, “I haven’t had a chance to read your book yet, but Reverend Medhurst sure knows how to turn a phrase himself … even if the subject is enough to scare the pants off most people.”
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