Awakening

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Awakening Page 3

by Catrina Burgess


  Before I could ask what was going on, he swung the closest window wide open and headed out onto the fire escape.

  What the heck was going on? I got up and went to take a look. It was raining outside. The water was coming down in sheets, and as I leaned over the windowsill raindrops pelted against my face.

  I could make out a group of guys surrounding a woman in the alley street lights. The woman was lying on the ground with her hands pressed against her head. High pitched screams were coming from her every few seconds.

  Luke was going down there to confront the guys. Were they Triads?

  “What’s going on?”

  I jumped at the sound of Darla’s voice. I had been so focused on the scene in the alley I hadn’t realized she was now standing next to me. We were wearing almost identical outfits, except her t-shirt was pink.

  “A woman’s in trouble. Luke went to help.” My voice came out in a rush.

  I couldn’t stay inside and watch whatever happened like a helpless bystander, not this time. I made my way back to the couch and flipped on a lamp on the side table. I grabbed my shoes lying next to the couch.

  “You aren’t going out there?” Darla sounded scared.

  “Your brother might need help.” Though I wasn't sure what kind of help I could be. I had learned lots of healing arts to soothe and heal, not maim and hurt. I wouldn’t be of much use in a fight. Death dealers might be bullet proof, but I was not.

  “Do you have any weapons?” I asked while slipping on my shoes.

  “Like a gun? No, we don’t have guns in the house.”

  “What about a knife?” I headed toward the kitchen and spotted a baseball bat leaning against a cabinet. It was better than nothing. Bat in tow, I hurried toward the windows.

  “You can’t go out there.” Darla grabbed my arm.

  “He might need help.”

  “Luke can take care of himself.”

  “Against a gang? Stay here and call the cops.” I pulled away from her. Baseball bat in hand, I went out over the windowsill and onto the fire escape.

  We were two floors up. And, if it was possible, the rain seemed to be coming down even harder. I made my way down the metal stairs, bat over my shoulder. If I wasn’t careful, I would lose my balance on the slick surface and do a header over the rails. Slowly I went until the stairs ended, and I extended a section of the metal ladder. Unfortunately, the ladder didn’t go all the way to the alley floor. There was a six foot drop to the bottom. I let my body fall and tried to remember to bend my knees as I landed. It wasn’t a graceful descent, but I made it in one piece. As I hit, I pitched forward and lost my balance, ending up sprawled face-first in the mud.

  I scrambled up, grabbed my weapon, and headed with more resolve than courage toward the alley entrance.

  Luke stood at the edge of the group of guys.

  “Leave her alone,” Luke said, the threat in his voice unmistakable.

  The guy closest to him was big, much older and dressed in dark jeans and jacket with an orange and black bandana tied around his right arm. The guy turned and laughed, “Or what, man?”

  “I’m only going to say it one more time. Walk away now before you get hurt,” Luke demanded.

  “Who’s going to do the hurting? You?” Someone else from the group shouted.

  I had no idea what I planned to do once I made it to Luke’s side, but I kept putting one foot in front of the other and hoped to God a police car would cruise by any minute.

  I didn’t make it far. I had only taken a few steps forward when another guy, even bigger than the last, rushed in and stepped right in front of Luke.

  This was it. The fighting was going to start. My breath caught in the back of my throat. But before the guy could lay a hand on him, Luke spun around, took his forearm and smashed the guy in the side of the head. The guy went down, hard.

  The group turned in unison, all attention now focused on Luke. It was then that I realized they all sported orange and black bandanas. Luke must be facing down the Triads. The situation had gone from bad to worse. Maybe, if it was a general mugging, or a bunch of hooligan teenagers out for a little mischief, Luke might have a chance of scaring them off, but this was an organized gang that spent most of their time looking for mayhem. From what I read in the papers, they weren’t above murder.

  One of them shouted out, “You just signed your death warrant.”

  Luke stood his ground. “Death. Now that’s something I know a thing or two about.”

  Luke raised his hands and started to speak the words of a spell. Light flickered from his fingers, and his eyes shone as if lit from within. His voice suddenly took on a lower, deeper tone, until he didn’t sound like himself at all. Then a slew of words flew from his mouth and the light moved from his hands, floating out and surrounding the gang.

  I watched in horror as one face formed within the lights and then another. Luke was calling on the spirits. A chill ran down the length of my body. I wasn’t the only one to realize what was happening.

  Someone cried out, “The dude is a black wizard!”

  The gang began to scatter, and I didn’t blame them, the visual of lights swirling around in a circle carrying whirling formless faces were a freaky thing to behold. Make that heads and partial bodies now forming inside the lights. The expression on each face inside the swirls was full of pain and terror. Then the noise started, an ear-splitting screeching. Luke was calling up the unsettled dead--he was bringing forth banshees.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and my arms were suddenly covered in goose bumps. Banshees. I reached for the protection pouch I wore around my neck. Used to wear, I reminded myself. My hands grasped at nothing but air. I had stopped wearing the pouch when I had stopped being a healer.

  There was no place to go as the banshees filled the alley. I took quick steps backward until I felt a brick wall at my back. They had me cornered like a rat in a cage.

  The banshees moved faster and faster around the men. Bodies were fleeing, and as they fled the lights followed, surrounding them, circling them. Men’s voices full of panic filled the air. I looked toward the woman. She’d thrown her whole body onto the ground, and her hands now covered her head.

  I should have been doing the same thing, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Rain streamed down my face, my hair clung to my cheeks and fell into my eyes. I pushed it aside and watched as blue streaks of light broke off from a guy standing not far from me and began heading in my direction.

  “Don’t ever look into a banshee’s eyes.” I heard the voice inside my head. It was a warning that had been instilled in me from childhood.

  “What’ll I see if I look in its eyes, Pa?”

  “Death. And when you look at death, child, it can take a hold of you and suck you into the ether sea.”

  And remembering my father’s words, I dutifully closed my eyes, but I felt the energy swish around me. It surrounded me, and as it did a loud screech filled my ears. And then, to my horror, I realized something was touching me. A chill ran down the length of my body. The thing teased my hair and slid across my skin, and where it touched me I felt a sharp pain, followed by a burning sensation. It crawled across first my right forearm and then my cheek. I cried out in pain. The compulsion to open my eyes and see the nightmare that surrounded me was very strong. Suddenly the world went still. Another high pitched, bone-chilling cry sounded, but this time it seemed farther away. More silence and then another screech. I counted the seconds in between the screeches and willed whatever was near me to disappear.

  A minute, maybe more, passed, and there was no sound. No movement my ears could detect. I decided to risk it. I opened one eye and then the other. Three long, ugly scratches ran across my forearm. I raised my hand to my cheek and felt raised welts. The banshees had actually touched me. I didn’t know they could to that. I had heard of the screeching, of their soulless cries, but I hadn’t actually been up close and personal with a banshee before. If this was the type of magic the
death dealers could wield, it was powerful. They could raise the dead. The thought of it sent another shiver down my back.

  The alley was now empty except for Luke. I looked up the alley and made out the back of the woman fleeing in the darkness through a sheet of rain. She was making her way onto a well-lit side street. The gang members were all long gone. Luke was down on his knees in the mud on the alley floor.

  I pushed myself up and made my way to his side. “That was some show,” I said, not hiding the relief in my voice. Thank God it was over.

  When Luke didn’t answer, I put my hand on his shoulder and watched in horror as he slumped forward.

  It took my mind a moment to catch up with what was actually going on. A pool of blood was forming from underneath him--it streamed out onto the dirt. I pushed his body over and looked in horror at the gaping hole on the left side of his abdomen. I sat staring, unable to move. Blood, people screaming in pain--the images flashed before me. I covered my hands over my ears to keep from hearing the screams. They were dying--they were all dying, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I don’t know how long I stayed immobile, the images keeping me frozen, but Darla’s voice crying out broke the spell.

  I looked up and watched her making her way down the ladder. She was crying out her brother’s name.

  I sat shaking, rain pouring down my face. Luke, I had to help him. The blood had become a river, snaking its way down the pavement. He was dying, and I was doing nothing to help him.

  I rushed forward, my hands going to his wound and causing him to moan. His face was ashen, but his eyes flickered open for just a moment. He could feel pain, which meant he was still alive.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Goddess divine. Mother of the earth. Thee, who brings forth all life, hear my plea. Help me.” I repeated the mantra over and over in my mind.

  Nothing happened.

  I could do this--I could heal him. I took a deep breath and concentrated. I waited for the familiar feeling of healing power to come into my body. A power I had been born with and trained to use. I waited. I took another deep breath, and another. Nothing happened.

  You can’t do this. You can’t help anyone anymore. The words whispered across my mind. I knew they were true. There was too much fear, too much anger coursing through my mind and body. I couldn’t find the serenity I needed in order to heal. You can’t help him. The words screamed inside me, but I pushed them back. I wouldn’t let him die. No one else would die.

  I focused and said the words out loud, with more determination this time, my voice pleading with Mother Earth to help me. Over and over I said the words and, as I did, my mind reached out for the energy that used to come so easily to me, energy that swirled around in the ether sea. And still I was powerless. He was dying. There was no one to help him but me.

  The words turned from a plea into a sob, and as I sobbed, a small tingle of energy finally flowed through my feet. It crawled its way slowly up my legs, through my body and into my fingertips.

  Thank the goddess. I pushed my fingers deep into his wound. I didn’t say the next word. Instead it seemed to resound from the very depths of me. Heal. As the word grew louder in my mind, as it took root in my body, the small bit of energy I had summoned flowed through me and into Luke. Time stood still, and for a long moment nothing existed but the sound of my shallow breathing.

  I felt something graze my cheek. I opened my eyes and realized I was lying on the ground. Luke kneeled over me, one hand held against his side. I could see blood making its way through his fingers.

  “Are you okay?” He asked.

  I realized the rain had stopped. I pushed myself off the ground.

  Darla was by his side, tears streaming down her face.

  “I thought you were no longer a healer.” He took away his hand and looked down at his side.

  He was bleeding, but not like before. I had stopped the gushing river of blood. He wouldn’t bleed to death in front of me.

  Relief filled my body. I resisted the urge to slump back in exhaustion. “I’m not. You’re still bleeding.”

  “Yeah, but I’m alive and kicking, and that’s only because of you.” His voice sounded weak.

  “What happened?” I whispered.

  “The woman, she had a knife,” he said, a grim expression on his face.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “The woman stabbed you? But you were trying to save her.”

  “Life gives you curve balls sometimes.” He stood up and reached down and helped me to my feet. “We better get out of here before those guys decide to come back. Darla, stop crying, I’m okay.”

  But he wasn’t, and he slumped forward again as he moved. Darla reached out and slid her body under his arm. His weight was too much for her. I scrambled around to his other side and lifted his arm around my shoulder.

  We staggered out of the alley and to the front entrance of the shop.

  “Anyone think to bring keys?” Not bothering to wait for a response, Luke pushed himself away from us and supported himself against the door. He leaned over and picked up a nearby rock and broke a panel of glass. He reached in and unlocked it. I waited for him to move, but he slumped to the ground.

  Darla and I, as if on cue, moved to either side of him and propped him up. Darla pushed the door open, and we made our way inside. I kicked the door shut behind me, but the broken glass provided little protection. Anyone could follow us into the store.

  “We need something to block that broken window pane.” I was exhausted, and helping him inside had taken most of my energy.

  We eased him down to the floor.

  “Worried someone might steal something? Normally our reputation keeps people at bay.” His voice was laced with pain.

  Sometimes a reputation was a double-edged sword. The hatred for the death dealers was widespread. He’d almost gotten killed a few minutes ago because of it. The very nature of his powers had horrified the woman he’d tried to rescue, enough so she’d actually stabbed her savior. I didn’t worry about thieves--I worried about gang members looking for payback.

  “We need a board or something to cover the opening. We need bandages and any medical supplies you have, and we need to get dry and out of these wet clothes,” I said, stomping my feet and rubbing my arms. I was trying to keep myself moving by sheer force of will. I felt completely drained of energy. If I sat down now, I was worried I would never get back up.

  Darla unwound her braid and started to wring out her hair. She was drenched, and I realized she wasn’t the only one. A shiver ran down my back and goose bumps covered my arms. We were all soaked, and it was a chilly night.

  Luke looked up at me. “You can find what you need to fix the pane in the supply room, through the hall to the left of the stairway.”

  “I’ll get blankets, and there’s a medical kit behind the counter,” Darla said, moving swiftly across the room to the doorway behind the counter.

  “Bring towels or blankets, anything we can use to get dry and keep warm,” I yelled after her.

  “Do you have any medical skills beyond the magic kind?” Luke asked.

  “Keep pressure on the wound. What kind of medical kit do you have?”

  “It’s a basic kit with bandages. But we do sell some salves and herbs.” He pointed toward the back of the shop.

  I nodded and made my way to the back. I wandered around, picking up bottles and pouches, looking for names I recognized. I found a few things I could use, but I couldn’t treat anything serious with the things he carried in his shop. He had some ointments to rub on your chest for colds, and some remedies for stomach aches and joint pain.

  I did find something I could use to clean the wound and something I could give him that might help with the pain, but what we needed was a proper healer.

  A healer. I used to be a healer. A sob escaped my mouth. I touched my cheeks in surprise and realized tears were streaming down my face.

  I had panicked out there. He’d almost died bec
ause I had froze. I had to keep it together. I forced myself to take a deep breath and then another. I wiped the tears from my eyes and made my way back to his side.

  I uncorked a brown bottle and passed it to him. “Drink half the bottle.”

  He looked at me. “Are you sure? You’re not trying to poison me are you?” His voice was weak, but he sounded amused.

  “It’ll help with the pain. I’ll be right back. I’ve got to fix that door. We don’t want any unwelcome company.”

  He drank from the bottle and nodded.

  In the supply room, I found a board, a hammer and a handful of nails. I made my way back to the front of the store.

  “How are you doing?” I asked as I passed him.

  “Still alive and kicking,” he answered. His voice sounded a bit stronger.

  I stood in front of the door and held the board across the broken pane. I put a few nails in my mouth and then concentrated on pounding them into the board one after the other. The hammer missed its mark a few times, and I slammed my thumb twice, but I managed to cover the hole. I slid the deadbolt into place. It wouldn’t keep out anyone who really wanted to get inside. All they had to do was break down the door. It was not a comforting thought. I went to the front window and looked out. The street was deserted. It had started raining again.

  We needed to get upstairs and put a few more locked doors between us and any bad guys.

  Darla came bounding back into the room--her arms piled high with blankets.

  I grabbed one from her and went over and wrapped it gently around Luke. “Hang in there.”

  I looked up at Darla who was busy wrapping herself up in a pink and white afghan. “The medical kit?” I asked.

  “Behind the counter. I’ll get it,” she answered.

  Luke reached out his hand and touched my arm. “You’re shivering.”

  I pulled my arm back. “I’m okay.”

  “Last thing I need is the person saving me succumbing to frostbite.” He was joking. It seldom dropped below freezing in this part of the country. But he was half-right. Hypothermia was a distinct possibility. I was chilled to the bone, my clothes were drenched, and I was covered in mud.

 

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