a crying child in a blue shirt
the gun pointed at the child in the blue shirt
the Credit Union sign above the bank inside the store
Panic seized my heart. An armed robbery was going down in the bank, and a child was going to be in the line of fire. I dashed through the front door and charged towards the bank. Fortunately, I still had time. There were three customers awaiting service but no children or men with baseball caps were in sight. Heaving a sigh of relief, I played with the possibility of telling Jason about my premonition. Maybe he’d believe me. Why not?He already thought I was an Amethyst, and that seemed more implausible than an ability to see the future.
As I turned to leave, a lady carrying a screaming toddler, who was having a full blown tantrum, entered the bank behind me. My mouth dropped in alarm, because the blue-shirted toddler was the one from my snapshots. I must have looked sympathetic, because the mother walked up behind me and started rambling on about the terrible twos. While listening to her, I started playing peek-a-boo with the little boy, and he stopped screaming. Meanwhile, in my head, I was trying to formulate a plan. The little boy seemed to be enjoying sticking his tongue out at me, and I contemplated how I was going to get them out of the bank.
Thankfully, the little guy solved that problem for me when a minor blast exploded in his pants, and instantly it was like a stink bomb had gone off in the bank. Exasperated, the mother asked, “Do you know if the store has a changing station?”
“Sure does,” I replied with relief and gave her directions to the bathroom. “You might stop by the bakery afterwards, and they’ll give your little boy a free cookie,” I suggested.
Her nose crinkled, and she waved her hand in front of her face. “Thank you so much,” she said and hurried out of the bank.
Happy to have them out of harm’s way, I plopped down on a soft, red chair and buried my face in my hands. A couple minutes later, my head popped up, and I carefully studied my surroundings. By normal standards, the bank was small. The waiting area was only about 16 feet across by 12 feet deep. One blonde teller was working the desk, and her line held two customers besides the one she was waiting on. Grasping a mustard yellow purse, the little old lady at the front of the line tapped her walking cane against the flat weave carpet. The second customer, an older gentleman with a big pot belly kept checking his watch. Neither one looked like they’d be of any assistance in an armed robbery; I could only hope they’d be gone by then.
Uncertain about my next move, I rose from the chair and stopped to readjust my hairclip again. Mumbling to myself, I nearly choked on my own breath when a man with a black windbreaker and green baseball cap walked right into the bank and stood directly behind me. Every muscle in my body went rigid. His thick, bushy eyebrows narrowed and touched together in the center of his forehead and his beady, black eyes sized me up. Immediately, I turned and faced forward. Compelled to maintain a place in line, I hoped to be a buffer between the man and the people in front of me in case he pulled out his gun.
Since I hadn’t seen myself in the snapshots, I determined I wasn’t in danger of dying – I hoped. With my hands clasped together, tapping incessantly against my chin, I looked around for a possible weapon but was quickly discouraged. I didn’t think jabbing an ink pen into Mr. Beady’s eyes or shoving deposit slips down his throat would stop him; the gun was likely to misfire in that situation.
My whole body jerked when an arm slid around my shoulder and a raspy voice said in my ear, “Don’t make a sound and don’t move, or,” I felt something jab into my left side, “this here gun is likely to go off. Do ya understand?” I nodded, and he said roughly in my ear, “You just keep facing forward. Act normal, and follow my directions. Any funny business and I pull the trigger. You cooperate and do what I say, and I’ll let you walk away. Now nod your head if you understand.” I was trembling but managed to bob my head up and down again. His rancid breath clung to my nose, and I gag-coughed as he pushed the barrel of the gun a little deeper into my side and said, “Good.”
Beads of sweat dripped down the small of my back, and blood coursed through my veins. I was trying hard to remain calm, and even though my body was totally paralyzed, random thoughts zipped through my head a mile a minute. First, I glanced up at the bank clock and realized my 10 minute break was over. Would Jason start paging me to the front end when I didn’t return? Second, I wondered where the guy with the red baseball cap was. Lastly, there was the question of whether or not he also carried a weapon. The customer at the counter said good-bye to the teller, and we moved forward one spot in line.
I heard Jason’s voice calling me from the entrance of the bank, and I almost cried out a warning. Tilting my head, I said in a low, wavering voice, “My boss is calling me.”
Mr. Beady Eyes said roughly, “Turn around and answer him, but make it good. If he comes in here I’m taking you out first and him second.”
With a shaky smile, I turned and made direct eye contact with Jason. As airily and as sweetly as I could, I said, “I’m sorry Mr. Walker.” Jason’s head snapped back a few inches, and his eyes narrowed, so I said hurriedly, “I needed to deposit my paycheck, and I ran into my…uncle here.” I smiled and glanced up at my captor, or rather, my would be uncle.
He gave Jason a brief nod and a muffled, “Hi.”
Then I added, “I shouldn’t be much longer. Can you just give me a couple more m-minutes.” My jaw dropped open, and I stuttered, because my eyes landed on a red baseball cap. A bearded, monster of man had just walked into the bank; he was maybe 6’ 5” or taller. As the gun poked into my rib cage with increased pressure, my eyes drifted back to Jason.
Perceiving my failed attempt at a smile, Jason took one step forward like he was about to pounce. Calmly, I pursed my lips together and shot my eyes downwards where the gun was settled against my hip, hoping to send him a message.
Jaw set rigid, Jason gave the barest of nods and blinked hard, twice. In a fiery but unwavering tone, like the one he’d used on Madison when he’d been furious with her, he said, “Lexi, you have five minutes.” He gazed at the bank’s clock and nodded. “I’m glad you ran into your uncle, but I need you back in the check stand ASAP. Max is off in five minutes and needs to get to his Dojo, so hurry it up.” With that he nodded, turned on his heel, and exited the bank.
Okay, he definitely knew something was up. Not only had he called me Lexi, which he never did, but he’d also said I’d be replacing Max, who didn’t work at this store. Besides that, he’d used the word Dojo. My adrenaline raced into hyper-speed as I glanced at the clock; it was exactly 9:30 a.m. Jason was up to something, and I figured whatever it was would become apparent in another five minutes.
“Good job Lexi,” a patronizing voice leered into my ear. Smoker’s breath inundated me, and I tried not to retch. “Let’s just hope for your sake,” he snorted, “I don’t have to take you as a hostage.” His body shook with laughter next to mine, and I prayed he didn’t accidentally pull the trigger.
After what felt like an eternity, the old lady ambled away from the counter, fiddling with the clasp on her old-fashioned purse, and the pot-bellied man stepped forward. We were next.
Mr. Beady Eyes shoved a folded piece of paper and a reusable, cloth grocery bag into my hands. “When we get up there you hand this note to the teller. After she reads it I want you to put the bag up there too. Got it Lexi?”
“Y-yes,” I choked out. We stood in silence for several minutes. Eventually, I looked at the clock which read 9:34 am. If I was right, in one minute the… That’s when I heard little footsteps pounding across the floor behind me.
I whipped around as a loud, squealing toddler shouted, “Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.”
My captor and I watched, as the toddler in the blue shirt, dodged away from his mother and ran towards us with his little fingers pointing directly at me. I was astonished to see them already back inside the bank. That diaper mess should have taken days to clean up. How could they be marching straight into da
nger once again? Fearing for his little life, I knew it was time to act.
Mr. Beady Eyes jerked, and I felt the gun shift against my side. Seizing the opportunity, I jumped away from him while swinging the grocery bag into his face. Momentarily stunned, he clawed at his face with his free hand. I tried to kick his arm so he’d drop the gun, but I missed and kicked him in the groin. I never had been a good aim. A loud roar burst forth from his mouth as he doubled over in pain, but his gun-wielding hand whipped into the air. I lunged sideways taking the toddler down with me.
The gun went off, and all pandemonium broke loose. Everyone in the bank hit the ground. People in the store started screaming, their footsteps slapping the tile floor as they ran in all directions. The toddler’s mother fell to the floor screaming, “My baby! My baby!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man with the red baseball cap pull out a gun. Swinging his arm wildly around the bank, he seemed undecided on a target. Before he could take aim, a body in a white shirt knocked him over with some sort of spinning roundhouse kick. The force of impact knocked the gun loose and sent it spiraling all the way over to the pot-bellied man who was lying face down on the floor by the teller’s window. He lifted his head, grabbed the gun, and slid it under his belly before resuming his defensive position. Okay, I’d judged wrong; that man had great instincts.
The criminal with the red cap was trying to stand up, but Jason thrust his knee into the man’s back and pinned him down. The little toddler was squirming underneath my body and crying loudly. His mother managed to slide her way over to me, and I passed him into her protective arms. With her back towards the gunmen, she covered her child with the rest of her body.
I rolled over in time to see Mr. Beady Eyes stagger his way to a standing position. He held his groin area with one hand, his red face contorted in pain. When we made eye contact his thin lips curled into an evil grin. Growling, he raised his shaky hand and aimed directly at me.
Jason yelled loudly, “Alex move!”
The sound of his voice propelled me into action. Tucking my head under my arm, I managed to slide a couple feet towards the front of the bank and further away from the mother and child. I heard the bullet whistle by and “thunk” loudly as it lodged itself in the wall above me. Fear rose sharply from my gut, and my teeth slammed together. I whipped my head around and Mr. Beady Eyes shot me a venomous look and aimed again.
Splitting his lips apart, he snarled, “Say good-bye to Lexi.”
My mouth dropped in horror, and my eyes sought out Jason. In a split second, he rendered the red capped man unconscious with a lethal blow to the neck. I watched in shock as he came hurtling towards Mr. Beady Eyes with incredible speed. Flying through the air in another kicking position, his foot made contact with Mr. Beady Eyes’ upper torso, but not before the gun fired.
I didn’t know where the bullet landed, but no one screamed in pain. Jason’s fist connected with Mr. Beady Eyes’ face, knocking the low-life flat on his back with blood spurting from his nose. Petrified, I watched as Jason landed next to him in a rough heap.
Sirens screamed from afar and people continued shouting and running around in a panic. I crawled over to Jason and cried out in alarm. His white shirt was blotched with bright red spots and his sleeve was absorbing blood faster than the Magic Sponge. I almost fainted in relief when he moved. Reaching over with his right hand, he applied pressure to his left shoulder where the last bullet had found a home.
He opened his brilliant eyes, flashed me a grin, and said breathlessly, “Thank God you’re okay Alex. Where’s the gun?”
Hurriedly, I searched the area and spotted it on the floor next to the circular table. “There,” I said and pointed.
“Good,” he said. “Go get it, and bring it to me.” Following his instructions, I lifted the gun off the floor like it was a rattlesnake ready to strike. I’d never held one before, and it felt vile. Carefully, I carried it back to Jason. He opened the chamber with obvious know how, took out the bullets, and crammed them into his pocket.
“We make a good team.” Wincing, he covered his shoulder and closed his eyes.
“Jason,” I cried out, and grabbed his face. “You’ve been shot, and there’s blood everywhere.” I rested one hand under his chin and gripped his leg with the other. Loose hair hung in my face as I’d lost my clip somewhere along the way. “That bullet was meant for me, not you.”
Flinching, he said, “Alex, just calm down and look at me.” Tearfully, I looked into his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Listen, you’ve healed me before with your touch; you just didn’t know it. After the truck hit me--”
“What?” I interrupted, backing away. “No, no. Ally and I gave you CPR and…”
“No Alex. You saved me with the power of your touch that day – your Essence. And you can heal my wound now, before the paramedics arrive.”
I shook my head fiercely in disagreement. “No, that’s not possible.” My voice quavered.
“Listen. I think the bullet went all the way through my shoulder, because the back of my shirt feels wet. Can you reach back and check?”
Chewing my bottom lip almost raw, I reached my hand around and found that his shirt felt soggy. When I pulled my hand away it was covered in his blood. Tears pooled in my eyes, clouding my vision.
“Alex!” He demanded my attention. Quickly undoing the top buttons, he pulled his shirt away from his shoulder, exposing the wound. “Place your hands on my shoulder and focus on healing. I know you can do it.”
Compelled to obey him, I carefully placed one hand over the point of entry and the other over the exit wound. Closing my eyes, I shut out the world around me: the yelling, the blaring sirens, the footsteps racing around the store, and the scent of gun powder mixed with fresh blood. I focused solely on Jason. My fingertips started to tingle, and my palms felt warmer. I willed my body to pass along its energy so I could heal his injured shoulder.
My heart pounded wildly, battering my chest as if trying to break free. Blood pumped madly through my veins, sending my pulse into an erratic, unpredictable tempo. Completely in tune with my vitals, I suddenly became aware of another streaming current – only this one was stronger, much more formidable. Gasping in surprise, I jerked and almost toppled over backwards. I could feel my Essence flowing – strong, like a tidal wave emanating, gushing through, yet also around my body! My eyes opened wide with shock, and excitement tore through me as I gazed into Jason’s eyes.
Jessica was right, my Essence felt like an energy force to be reckoned with. It flooded throughout my entire body in a steady, vibrant rhythm. My Essence was like a natural life-force, one continuous ball of power needing no physical organ to make it produce and perform. I couldn’t believe I’d never felt it before. Now it seemed so obvious, so present, and so accessible.
Excitedly, I put a hand on Jason’s cheek and gushed, “I can feel my Essence! It’s incredible. And I think I can help…I mean, I know I can heal you.”
He smiled weakly and said, “I’m ready Alex.”
And with that, I directed the flow of my Essence into his body, flooding him with its power and regenerating capabilities. He closed his eyes and relaxed. I could feel his Essence, weak but ever present, until it began to strengthen. No more than a minute later, he opened his eyes and nodded. I withdrew my hands and saw that the bleeding had stopped, but the wound still looked nasty.
“It didn’t work,” I cried out.
He sat up, put his hand under my chin for a split second, and said, “Alex, you were awesome. It worked; I promise.”
Looking at him with confusion and frustration, I said, “No Jason, it still looks awful.”
He chuckled and responded, “Alex, an Amethyst heals the afflictions on the inside of the body – where it matters most. The outside must heal on its own, over time. The paramedics will bandage me up, and my skin will have to go through the normal healing process with ugly scabs and bruises, but I’ll be just fine.” He paused and pulled his
shirt up. “You’ve repaired the tissues, the tiny blood vessels, and any shattered bone fragments inside my shoulder. It’s like you’ve given me natural sutures that have already dissolved away. I feel good Alex, a little sore, but whole again. You were amazing! Thank you.”
Interrupted by a team of paramedics and police officers rushing into the bank, I had no time to inspect further. I was pulled away from him and assessed for injuries along with everyone else. I watched as the red-capped criminal was carried out on a stretcher. Handcuffed and belligerent, it took a whole police escort to move Mr. Beady Eyes towards the exit. As he turned his bloody face around and caught my gaze, he hollered numerous, descriptive expletives. One officer gave him a hard shove, and that was the last I saw of him.
A short, pretty EMT determined Jason was stable but should be taken to the hospital on a stretcher. He griped and groaned, but I had to agree with her – better safe than sorry.
As he was being carried out of the bank he called out, “Alex?”
“Yeah?” I answered, pressing my red-stained hands against my pants.
“I believe I owe you a bowl of African Peanut Soup.” He smiled and added, “And please don’t call me Mr. Walker again.”
I grinned. “Fine, but I don’t want you calling me Lexi either.”
“Deal.” A smile played upon his lips as he placed his head back down on the stretcher.
I heard someone say the store would have to close for a few hours while the officers took statements and investigated the crime scene in the bank. Meanwhile, the bank would be closed indefinitely pending an investigation. An hour later I’d given my statement to the police and had spoken with the mother of the toddler. We hugged each other tightly and then parted ways. Merrick insisted I go home, even though I argued extensively that I was fine. He said I needed to get cleaned up and recover, and even arranged a ride home for me in a police car.
I arrived to an empty house and immediately took a long, hot shower after which I collapsed on the couch. I left Jessica a message that I’d had a major breakthrough with my Essence and told her to call me immediately.
Amethyst - Book One of the Guardian Series Page 18
