Amethyst - Book One of the Guardian Series

by Heather Bowhay

  As the truck careened sideways through the intersection, chaos exploded around us. Horns honked, cars screeched to a stop, and people dodged for cover. The impact of the red truck smashing into a parked van on the other side of the intersection caused a terrible clashing of metal and steel. Pedestrians hit the pavement, and Ally and I huddled close together.

  After the collision, more mayhem ensued. Gray smoke rose steadily from the wreckage, and large streams of water spewed wildly from a broken fire hydrant. People raced to get away, while others hurried towards the accident scene. I cast my eyes towards the road. My stomach rumbled, and I knew I was going to be sick when I spied him lying motionless about 15 feet away from the spot of impact.

  Waving her hand under my nose, Ally said, “Snap out of it, Lexi. Right now. Let’s get down there and see what we can do.” She clenched my arm, and we sprinted. By the time we reached him, bystanders swarmed like bees. Ally shoved us through to the front and knelt beside him. Calm and collected, she’s always a quick thinker in emergency situations.

  “I can’t find his pulse, and I don’t think he’s breathing,” said a big, burly man. Once he lifted a full head of black, curly hair out of the way, I was able to assess the maniac runner. He looked lifeless. His blue shirt was ripped, and one sneaker was missing. Blood red scratches covered his arms and face, and his right eye was swelling. Black marks streaked down his leg and blood oozed from a gash in his leg. A muffled scream escaped my mouth.

  “Do you know CPR?” the burly man asked, wiping his dampened brow on his sleeve.

  “Yes, we do,” Ally said confidently, looking into my eyes, which were brimming with fresh tears. She glanced at the big man. “Sir, keep pressure on that leg wound, and Lexi be ready,” she commanded as she began hard, fast chest compressions.

  “Got it,” the man said as I sank to my knees.

  “Lexi, get ready for two breaths,” Ally ordered. She never wavered; she was always certain of her abilities, and mine.

  After pulling off my Nike cap, I leaned down and tried not to think about the blood, his unmoving body, and the people watching – leaning in, crowding us. I shut out everything else. I needed to revive him. This time I had a chance; he wasn’t dead yet. I focused on him with the same intensity he’d focused on me earlier, but I did it with determination and compassion, not hostility.

  “Go,” Ally commanded, lifting her hands from his chest.

  Trembling, I placed my left hand under his chin and tilted his head back to open his airway; my right hand pinched his nose – a very straight, masculine nose. A woodsy, sweet scent emanated from his skin. My mouth closed over his, and I gave him two deep breaths; although, I felt more like I was giving him my heart and soul. I willed him to breathe with every part of my being. My lips tingled slightly after coming into contact with his.

  Ally counted aloud as she began compressions again; her facial muscles stringent. With hands linked and arms locked straight, she pushed heavily onto his chest. The time it took to do 30 compressions seemed to drag on forever. “15…16…17…” Ally continued on.

  Sirens blasted in the distance. Music to my ears. The paramedics would arrive within seconds and take over. I studied his scratched up face and realized I was running my hand over his cheek, comforting him with my touch, just like my mom had done when I was a kid. I didn’t know him, but I felt like I did. I knew he’d just saved three people – people who were mine to save. If nothing else, we had one connection; saving lives. I didn’t want him to die.

  “29 and 30,” Ally finished counting. “Lexi, any sign of breathing yet?”

  I leaned down and placed my ear next to his mouth. “No,” I said sharply.

  “Okay, two more breaths,” she ordered.

  I crossed my fingers under his chin. Willing my strength and energy into him, I whispered please, please, please…in my mind. Strangely, my fingers tingled. All at once, he started sputtering and coughing, and I gasped. His head bobbed as he did some sort of rapid eye movement thing, and then his eyes flew open and bore into mine with such ferocity, I accidentally whipped my hand away, and his head thudded to the pavement.

  “They did it! He’s breathing!” someone in the crowd shouted.

  “He’s alive and moving!” someone else called out, and cheers went up all around us.

  “Thank God you’re all right,” I whispered.

  “Nice job ladies,” the burly man congratulated us, his hand still pressing on the wound.

  “Please step out of the way. Bellingham EMT’s coming through,” an authoritative voice sent onlookers scattering left and right. “Please step aside; make room for the stretcher.” Four paramedics rushed in, and I barely had time to give him a final look of encouragement. His expression hardened as I rose, and his eyes followed me until our view of each other was cut off.

  “What’s the situation here?” asked one EMT. After Ally offered a quick account of the accident, he voiced his gratitude and helped rush the stretcher to the ambulance. Once the doors slammed behind them, the sirens blared and the vehicle tore out of the intersection – fleeing with my…my what? My maniac runner? My predator? My hero?

  Half an hour later, after we’d given statements to a police officer, we learned that the driver of the truck had died. That’s when I lost it. The officer thought maybe I was injured and wanted to check me out, but Ally assured him I was just emotionally distraught and needed to get away from the accident scene. Hurriedly, she pulled me through the yellow tape that cordoned off most of the intersection. Strobe lights flashed from atop police cars. The broken fire hydrant, which looked like a giant sprinkler gone berserk, was still spraying massive amounts of water everywhere. Hoards of people continued to flock to the area, but I wanted nothing more than to run away. The guilt was intolerable. Another man was dead, and if I’d been quicker I might have prevented it.

  On the way home, Ally wrapped her arm securely around my shoulders for support. “Lexi, the mother and children are safe, and so is that crazy guy who ran into you. I know you’re feeling responsible for the driver’s death, but you couldn’t have prevented that. Your premonition was for the mother and children, right?” I nodded. “See, and they are safe.”

  I groaned. “I took too long to react. Maybe I could have saved the driver.”

  Ally seized my face. “Lexi! The driver was not part of your premonitions. You are in no way responsible for his death. You’re not meant to save everyone. You know that, and you know that we did everything we could. Now let’s just get out of here and get home.”

  Ally, bless her bossy heart, spent the rest of the day comforting and distracting me. Thank Goodness for best friends.

  CHAPTER 3 – WORK

  An early morning phone call had me scrambling out of bed and heading for work. Since I was wide awake and needed a diversion from my so-called life, I readily agreed to cover a sick shift. After arriving at work, I shoved my purse and cell phone into a metal locker and slid my badge through the time clock at exactly 6:59 a.m.

  I’d recently started working for a family owned grocery chain and was relieved to have a job – one with benefits and flexible hours. Many of the other employees were college students as well, and I hoped to make some new friends. Actually, I was surprised I’d gotten hired at all. I figured my previous employer Mr. Olson would have told them I was great with customer service but that my behavior was erratic and he wouldn’t recommend me for rehire.

  When I was a senior in high school, Mr. Olson, a friend of my parents, had offered me a job at his burger joint: Angus Burger Bistro. Unfortunately, after a month on the job I had a premonition during my shift and went AWOL from the drive-up window during a Saturday night rush hour. Apparently, when no one could explain my absence, Mr. Olson’s clean, Christian mouth had transformed into a polluted fountain of profanities. I think it was his lack of control, rather than my desertion that really sent him over the edge. Needless to say, he fired me, and my parents lectured me for days about work ethics.
In my heart I knew I’d done the right thing, because I’d stopped a toddler from wandering onto the busy highway. Of course, no one knew that bit of info. I’d learned early on that premonitions did not gel well with steady employment.

  I glanced around the store, feeling lucky to have this job. The store was unusually quiet, and I could hear the soft music playing overhead and the buzzing ceiling lights. Several check stand lanes were cordoned off with spiraling, black cords. I walked on my tip-toes to get a better visual advantage of the aisles and spotted a couple night crew workers throwing freight in the freezer section. The only other activity came from the coffee shop up front, where a small line of caffeine addicts waited patiently for their morning fix.

  Jessica Nelson, the PIC (person in charge), was standing in check stand #9 intently studying the front end sheet. The front end sheet denoted every checker’s scheduled shift, break, and lunch. The person holding it was the supreme ruler for the day, responsible for happy customers.

  Although petite and shorter than me by a couple inches, Jessica’s attire looked much the same as mine. With our black slacks, white blouses, and colorful scarves, we epitomized standard dress code. Her shoulder length brown hair, although much shorter than mine, was also pulled back into a ponytail. She was chewing on a pencil eraser.

  “Hi Jessica,” I called out, so I didn’t startle her.

  “Lexi!” Her face brightened as she glanced up. “Thanks so much for coming in. Nothing like the CSM calling in sick and leaving me with all her duties. Lucky for me, you were up early.” She flashed a grateful smile and tucked a few wispy strands behind her ear.

  As I approached, I tripped over a shopping basket and fell to the floor. She reached down to help me up. “Customers are always leaving baskets everywhere, except where they belong, of course.” When our hands locked, her fingers tightened around mine, and her emerald eyes rounded. Gasping, her mouth opened wide and her eyes lit up like Christmas lights. She looked like she’d just found out Santa Claus was real and was heading her way with a sleigh full of loot. Pulling me to my feet, she smothered me with a huge hug. Just to make things even weirder, she started giggling – louder and louder, tears pooling in her eyes. “Lexi,” she managed to say in between laughs, “I’m so glad I found you. I just can’t believe it.What are the odds?” She clapped her hands together once. “It’s gotta be fate.”

  I stepped back, puzzled and unsure what to make of her bizarre behavior. “Jessica, what are you talking about?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” She grabbed a tissue off the check stand, dabbed the tears at the corners of her eyes, and blew her nose loudly. “What I meant was – oh, never mind. I’m just all hyper-stressed this morning.” Her smile and nod were not very convincing. “I’m behind on cleaning, stocking candy, and a million other things. When you tripped, it was just the stress reliever I needed. Forgive me?”

  “No worries. I’m glad you got a laugh out of it. I’m sure I looked like a total idiot.”

  “Oh, no, it’s not you,” she said, “I’m the idiot. Sometimes the littlest things set me off, and I can’t stop laughing. I can so relate with the Energizer Bunny.” I bit my lower lip to suppress a smile. Grabbing my hands, she added, “I feel like we’re long lost friends, and now that we’ve found each other we’re destined for many adventures.” She lifted her hands and waved them in the air. “Reminds me of when Anne of Green Gables met Diana for the first time and knew she’d found her kindred spirit. I have a feeling that we’ll be best of friends, too.”

  I couldn’t help but shake my head and chuckle. The girl was totally bizarre. “How much coffee have you had?”

  “None. Nada. Zilch. You’ll learn quick enough that not only do I laugh a lot, but I’m also a little bit crazy and a lot scatter-brained. It doesn’t take caffeine to get me going. Ask anyone who knows me, like my cousin Shelby, who works back in the bakery. She’s seriously serious, but you’ll love her. She’s gonna be shocked when she meets you.” I gave her a funny look, and she waved her hand. “Oh don’t worry, I mean it in a good way.”

  I frowned but nodded. “Okay. Well, I’d like to meet her. I don’t know many people here yet – other than you and my roommate Ben, who just started working in produce.”

  “I know Ben,” she said delightedly. “He’s hilarious. I didn’t know he was your roommate. Are you a couple?”

  “No,” I laughed. “He’s engaged to my best friend Ally.”

  “Oh, got it. That’s cool.” She swung around, picked up the front end sheet, and put one hand on her hip. “Well, we better get to work. Lots to do and I still have to set up the produce test.”

  As she paused for a breath, I said, “P-produce test?”

  “Oh, don’t stress out about that,” she said, smacking the clipboard. “I’ve seen you carrying around your produce codes; you’ll do fine. I’ll make it easy this week. Speaking of which, have you ever eaten a cherimoya?”

  “A what?” I said with a shake of my head.

  “You know, that green Peruvian that has funny little indentations on the skin.” She winked and handed me the front end schedule. “You should try it sometime; it’s really sweet.” She pointed at me with her pencil, looked at it oddly, and giggled before handing it to me. “I’ll gather items for the produce test. You’re on check stand #8, and it would be really helpful if you could clean check stands in between customers. Page me if you need back up.” She scooped up the green basket and bounced towards the produce department, only pausing long enough to slam-dunk the basket onto a tall stack by the front entrance.

  I signed on to my computer and was greeted with an array of beeps as the receipt tape advanced in the printer. Sporadic small orders consisting mostly of muffins, doughnuts, and fruit kept me busy. During lag times I disinfected the check stands and thought about Jessica. She was a riot – one of those people who made you feel good no matter what your mood. She’d probably been voted Most likely to make people laugh in high school.

  A customer approached and banged his green basket onto the belt. He narrowed his pale, brown eyes accusingly through his glasses and scowled. I knew the signs of an irate customer when I saw one, so I braced myself for the onslaught.

  “Listen here Missy,” he said gruffly, wagging his crooked finger in the air. “I don’t know why you people have to saturate the produce with water. That sprinkler system needs to be shut down. I’m sopping wet.” He stretched his arm under my nose.

  My first irascible old crank of the day had arrived, and good customer service dictated it was my responsibility to set things straight. First, I would shock him by being agreeable; then I’d apologize and find a solution. Not that I’d admit it publicly, but I’d actually read the entire employee manual front to back. I felt confident in my conflict resolution abilities and launched into a “the customer is always right” counter attack.

  Moments later, he scratched his chin and studied me as I rang up his order. “Little lady, one thing you are, is perceptive, and you have more spirit than half the employees in this store.” After he paid, he assured me he’d see me again and shuffled away.

  “Wow!” Jessica commented behind me. “You handled old Dr. Fisher really well.” She glanced over her shoulder. “He’s known as the store grump, but we love him. Besides that,” she winked, “he’s related to the owners.” Her pony tail flipped around as she gazed at me again. “Looks like you can handle the best of ‘em, or the worst of ‘em,” she giggled.

  “Thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically. “But seriously, if you’d grown up around some of my uncles, you’d think old Dr. Fisher was a kitten in comparison.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got some stories to tell,” she said, picking up the clipboard. “All the more reason we need to hang out. Sooner rather than later,” she said adamantly, poking me with the pencil.”

  “Sure,” I replied. That probably wasn’t the best idea, because that would be about the time for another round of snapshots, and then what?

  “Gre
at,” she said, not picking up on my lackluster tone. “The produce test is on the first check stand. Good Luck. I’m sure you’ll pass with flying colors.” Merrily, she shooed me away.

  “Wonderful,” I muttered in an undertone.

  Almost all the test items were easily identifiable until I reached the last one. Strangest looking thing I’d ever seen with spoon-sized indentations… Shaking my head, I looked towards Jessica and held it in the air. As soon as she saw me, she tilted her head back and laughed uproariously. She was a riot.

  The next couple hours passed quickly. At one point a man with a screaming toddler hurried into Jessica’s lane. Pointing to a goose egg on the girl’s head, the man explained how she’d tripped and banged herself on a display rack. He wasn’t sure if he should take her to the doctor or not, because she wouldn’t stop wailing.

  Explaining she had first aid training, Jessica took the little girl’s hand and spoke in a soft, soothing voice. Gently, she rubbed her other hand over the girl’s forehead. Almost instantly, the little girl stopped crying and started smiling. Totally impressed, the father and I exchanged amazed looks. Jessica peered into the girl’s eyes and said warmly, “She looks like she’s going to be just fine. Her eyes aren’t dilated, and that’s a good sign. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. However, you should watch for drowsiness or abnormal behavior over the next few hours.” Jessica offered him a reassuring glance, then pulled a sticker out of her check stand drawer and gave it to the little girl.

  After expressing his gratitude, the man and his blissful toddler went on their way. I was commending Jessica on her uncanny ability to calm the little girl when our third checker, Tori, arrived. Her eyelids were heavily coated with sparkly shades of gold, and her fruity perfume blasted through the front end like a bad, air freshener. Jessica immediately sent Tori down to take the produce test.

  “She’ll drive you nuts,” Jessica warned under her breath. “She’ll talk continuously about make-up, fashion, and her secret admirers.”