Cait entered her assailant’s mind and spoke—yelled—at him, her sharp words tearing a hole in his consciousness: “No! You’re the one who’s going to die today. But first I’m going to play with you. Enjoy the pain.”
Cait was floating, moving between the normal and the paranormal, disassociated from her physical self, aware of everything around her. Her alter ego was gliding, floating six inches off the floor. Staring at the large door at the end of the garage, it opened of its own accord, revealing a world outside that was full of beauty and color. The sparkling evening air moved in wafts as if the earth was breathing. Cait took in the heartbeat of the large oak tree sitting in the shadows, the deafening flutter of a bird’s wing as it flew past, the spirits living under the big rock just outside the door . . .
Snapping her eyes away from the perfect world outside, Cait returned her glare back to Boss-man, speaking in tongues in her head as she held his startled gaze.
“I spit on your soul and damn you for all eternity. May you float forever in a world of pain and misery,” said Cait with an incantation—her first bricht—that came out of nowhere. It was as if she was on automatic pilot, controlled by a hidden, unseen force.
Boss-man’s eyes bulged, almost popping out of their sockets. He heard, understood, but couldn’t react. His world was crashing in around him and he was unable to do anything about it.
Cait grounded herself, staring at the pathetic creature still lying on the hard concrete floor, motionless, virtually comatose, the only sign of life being his darting, terrified eyes. She glided over to him, standing over his prone body, and gave it a nudge with her foot.
No response.
“This one’s for Rishi,” she said in a veiled, dangerous voice as she lifted her foot high in the air and with the strength of ten men, stomped hard on his leg, smiling at the sound of smashing bone. Boss-man’s femur agonizingly compounded, two inches of white bone still attached to some bloody muscle tissue breaking through the skin and sticking out of his right thigh.
Still no movement bar screaming eyes, yelling out in pain.
“And this one’s a gift from me,” Cait said as she kicked Boss-man hard in the ribs, feeling her foot disappear inside his body, past his rib cage, and attack him from the inside.
A vengeful smile graced Cait’s lips. She felt no remorse. Only satisfaction and a sating of her anger.
“No, a quick death is far too good for you,” said Cait at the last minute, withdrawing her foot from his chest, all physical signs of her invasion of his body immediately closing over, bar the pain of four shattered ribs and a punctured lung.
Cait moved away from her victim, drawn by the serenity outside: the trees, the pleasant evening sky, the infinity of the universe above her, the twinkling stars, the safety of the normal world. She’d finally found some closure of the events of the last nine months.
Her kidnapping, Rishi’s murder, Kylie’s cat and car . . . I’ve got the bastard, she said to herself.
“Mum, I just tried calling Dad but his phone’s not answering. Oh God, tell me he’s okay, please.” Cait was so wired from the events of the last few hours that she didn’t even consider that her family would be worried sick about her, let alone consider her own injuries.
“Oh Cait, it’s you! Are you okay? Where are you? What’s happened?” Jools had so many questions—was almost physically sick with worry and concern for her daughter—that she didn’t know where to start.
“Yeah, I’m okay, Mum. Dad. What about Dad? And Mia?”
“Cait, thank God you’re okay. And your father’s going to be fine. He’s got a nasty cut on his cheek that’s been stitched up, and his jaw’s broken, but luckily not badly. He’s also got a black eye and a few bruises, but he’ll be all right. They’re keeping him in the hospital overnight for observation, then hopefully he’ll be home tomorrow.”
“I’ve been so worried about him. And Mia. How’s she?” Cait breathed a sigh of relief.
Thank God that Dad’s okay, Cait thought.
“Mia’s going to be all right. She’ll recover. The poor dog’s got two broken ribs. She’s home and very sore.”
“When can I speak to Dad?”
“He’s sedated at the moment apparently. But I’ll call the hospital and see if we can get through. But first, where are you? And what happened?”
Cait proceeded to tell Jools about waking up in the garage and gave her a brief rundown of the ensuing events. She ended with Boss-man lying glued to the floor, but left out the full details of the retribution that she had just meted out to her assailant. She needed to communicate with her grandmothers first.
“Do the police know yet? Have they been called?” said Jools, concerned that Cait was by herself and still in danger.
“No, not yet. I don’t even know where I am,” said Cait, suddenly focusing on the immediacy of the moment.
“Cait, you’ve obviously got your mobile phone. Go to Google Maps and click on locate. Do it now. We need to get this sorted out straightaway. And call the police.”
“Hey, that’s a good idea. I’ll check Google Maps now. But don’t worry about Boss-man. He’s going nowhere.”
Jools gave an all-knowing smile. Now that Cait was safe and alive, they could finally look at closure and moving on. She instinctively knew that Cait had invoked the powers of the Otherworld, as there was no other way she could have survived.
“We’ll have a debrief when you feel up to it,” said Jools, realizing that her daughter had to process the events of the past twelve hours first.
“Cait, what the hell happened here? You’re lucky to be alive,” said Sorenson. He had been alerted earlier to Cait’s kidnapping and the assault on G by Boss-man and was closely monitoring the situation.
They were both looking at Boss-man as he was loaded into the ambulance. He was basically a vegetable, a blubbering mess, dribbling like a drunk. With a compound fracture of his femur, the end of the bone visible as it poked through his upper thigh, a deep gash on his cheek, and a punctured lung, there were bubbles of blood popping out of his mouth with every strained, painful breath . . .
“He crossed me. I took care of it,” said Cait, almost nonchalantly.
“But that’s impossible. You couldn’t have fought him, you’re just a girl,” said Sorenson, totally amazed at what Cait was telling him. “Who else was here? Who helped you?”
“No one helped me. And look, you’ve got him. I’ll talk about it later. Tomorrow maybe. Now, I’ve got to speak to my father. And go home. I need my family.”
“G’s on the other phone, Cait. He just found out and rang us from the hospital,” said Sorenson.
Cait nervously grabbed the phone from Sorenson, moving off to one side for privacy.
“Dad, is that you?”
“Yes Cait, it’s me,” said G groggily, slightly slurring his words.
“I’ve been so worried. I’m so sorry, Dad. It’s all my fault.” Cait burst into tears. Tears of relief, tears of happiness, tears of joy at hearing her father’s voice.
“Mum told me about your injuries,” sobbed Cait, wiping the rivulets running down her cheeks with the back of her forearm.
“Caitie, don’t cry. Not for me. I’ll mend. I’m made of tough stuff.”
The emotion of the moment finally took over. “Dad, we got him. I got him. He’s been taken away by ambulance under police guard,” was all Cait could say. She was suddenly totally drained. A mental, physical, and emotional wreck, surviving purely on adrenaline and good news.
“That bastard. I hope he rots in hell for what he’s done to you,” commented G.
“Don’t worry Dad, he will. I made sure of it.”
“Dad, Mum, I have to see him. To get final closure I need to view Boss-man one last time.”
G had been released from the hospital the day before and was sitting in their living area with Jools, Dec, and Mia, listening to a debrief by Cait on her kidnapping. Cait needed to offload.
“If you feel that�
��s what you need to get closure on this, then let’s talk to Kylie and see what strings she can pull. Boss-man’s in a coma and under guard in intensive care and not supposed to have visitors. You know that, don’t you?” said G, grimacing slightly with the pain of talking.
“Yes Dad, I saw him in a dream last night. He’s in a stupor, not a coma actually. His soul’s wandering, searching. It tried to grab me.”
“What happened, Cait?” asked Jools, concerned. She picked up on her daughter’s contact. “Did it linger? Did you brush it off?”
“Yes Mum, all’s good. You don’t have to worry. It scattered as soon as I confronted it. I’ve already told you, I have Boss-man’s measure.”
“I’d like to come with you, sis,” said Dec. “I was there when this Otherworld stuff started, and it saved my life. I want be there to support you this time.”
“Dec, I’ve been to hell and back, so I think I can look after myself, but sure, you can come. Let’s try for tomorrow.”
Cait stood behind a glass partition, her gaze traveling over to the handcuffed mess on the bed.
This looks surreal. He’s like a mannequin in a movie, Cait absently thought as she took in the scene playing out in front of her.
What was once Boss-man was now lying motionless on a hospital bed, not more than five meters away. He was just a blob, a far cry from his previous threatening self.
And I did that to him? Oh my God!
Cait smiled.
With one leg in a raised splint strung up at a twenty-degree angle, a large dressing covering his right cheek, and skin the pallor of aging yellow parchment, Boss-man resembled a cadaver. A large tube was disappearing down his throat while another wormlike conduit trailed up his nose, and repeating flapping and clicking sounds could clearly be heard as the ventilator pumped air into his deflated lung. Monitors with red and green LED lights flicked on and off and displayed changing numbers.
Cait thought that he looked like a painting, inert, unmoving and nonresponsive. And that once threatening cobra tattoo? Well, it was no more. It was just an ugly lifeless drawing inked onto a flaccid arm now.
She glared at him and remembered what G had told jokingly her last night: “It doesn’t matter how hard you polish, you’ll never get a shine on a turd.”
Well that thing in there certainly fits that bill, thought Cait. He wouldn’t shine if he was silver plated.
The more Cait stared at the pathetic creature in front of her, the more she realized that she was beginning to connect with him. He may be comatose, she realized, but there’s still something happening between his ears.
Yes! You know I’m here, don’t you . . . you can’t escape me . . . you’re mine. You hear that? Mine.
As Cait communicated telepathically with Boss-man, evil thoughts began to emerge and darken her mind: Now for my final revenge; for you to suffer for all eternity.
“There’s no peace in the death zone—it’s time to die,” hissed Cait with a malevolent expiration of air that would turn a rose to stone, frosting the glass in front of her.
Entering a trancelike state, Cait took control of Boss-man’s thoughts, manipulating them, twisting them, playing with them. She was in his head, looking in every nook and cranny, chasing out the evil, trying to work out what made him tick.
An alarm next to his bed sounded. Then another. His heart-lung monitor displayed a rapid increase in heart rate: 75 . . . 84 . . . 106 . . . 127 . . . 149 . . . 181 beats per minute, the machine flashing urgently.
Cait became aware of a general alarm ringing in the ICU and two nurses rushing into Boss-man’s cubicle. They immediately started checking his vital signs, but she paid them no heed. Cait had other things on her mind. She continued to glare intently at the body in front of her, mesmerized, her head exploding with a pulse that was forcefully beating at her temples, a warmth radiating power and confidence consuming her.
She was controlling him, manipulating his vitals. Cait was inside her attacker, battling with his life force, manipulating his very being.
Boss-man’s fingers and toes twitched, his eyes suddenly springing wide open. His body began to convulse. Violently. He thrashed around on the bed as if he was wired to a high-voltage current on a torture rack. The nurses panicked, trying to prevent him fighting against the restraints manacling him to the bed. Instead, all the restraints did was hold him in one place, preventing him from bouncing off the bed and landing on the floor.
Cait observed it all: the nurses trying to contain their patient; Boss-man’s violent, jerky movements; the sheer terror running around inside his head; the monitors entering the danger zone; the alarms; his vital signs going into overdrive.
But all Cait could do was smile.
He deserves it, she thought to herself. You’re all wasting your time. You’ll never save him.
Then all suddenly went silent. Boss-man sank back into his bed and let out a final sigh as his soul scurried from his body, and it was over. Finished. Cait’s spell dashed back to her through the ether, hitting her with a virtual thwack that knocked her backward a step.
She looked at Boss-man’s life support system and grinned, a sense of relief coursing through her veins. Boss-man had flatlined.
He’s gone.
Cait sent him off with one final wish, her demand chasing his soul as it jumped out of his body, searching for a home: May you rot in hell and your soul be damned forever and a day.
“That one’s for Rishi: revenge in the death zone,” Cait said out loud to herself cogently, a satisfied look transforming her aura from what had been a violent, black power to a shimmering, warm yellow glow of satisfaction and contentment.
Cait spun round, totally exhausted, knowing that her work was done, and walked purposefully out of the ICU and into the waiting room, the beginnings of a radiant, satisfied smile crossing her lips.
“Hey sis, you look like you’ve just had the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders,” said Dec as he unstuck himself from the green vinyl-covered chair in the waiting room that he had been impatiently sitting on.
“Your ear—it’s bleeding, Cait!”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Let’s go Dec, it’s all over,” replied Cait almost nonchalantly as she pulled out a tissue from the pocket of her jeans and patted the small trickle of blood off her cheek that was dripping from her left ear.
A small price to pay for revenge, she thought to herself as brother and sister walked arm in arm out of the ICU.
Cait’s previously predictable, planned, but at the same time slightly chaotic life has been turned totally on its head. The realization that she has the power of The Gift within her—the power to control events, read people’s minds, influence the course of life’s flow—is only just manifesting. Cait is fighting hard to accept and fully realize the potential of the almost limitless arsenal of paranormal powers that her maternal lineage has bequeathed to her.
She is now on a journey of self-discovery. When a new life direction is thrust upon her, it drags her toward it as surely if as an ever-present ethereal magnet is forcefully drawing her in. Her Druidic grandmothers are now her constant companions, whispering to her, guiding her, warning her, protecting her. Cait instinctively knows—feels—that from this moment forward she is surrounded by an all-encompassing cosmic force field that will enable her to view the world through multidimensional eyes.
But will she overcome her skepticism and fully let these paranormal revelations into her psyche?
Like the opening petals of a blossoming rosebud revealing themselves to the world on a sunny spring day, the very layers of existence begin opening up to Cait—both past and present. Cait feels like a bridge, a conduit between the physical and metaphysical world. If only she can find the key to permanently unlock the door, she knows it will reveal a magical world to her.
Like a sleeping giant hidden in the depths of her DNA, the very heartbeat of the earth is gradually revealing itself to Cait: the physical world; the spiritual world; the secret world of
nature, with its trees and plants, its animals, rocks, even the very air that we breathe. As Cait begins to realize that everything has a life and a place in the new order of things, the rich experiential tapestry of her new multidimensional world unfolds in front of her.
But how does she navigate in and out of the paranormal world? Cait is subconsciously aware that she’s on the verge of becoming a shaman, a visionary, a Shapeshifter, a mind controller. Her emerging powers of healing and the ability to move between the two worlds are tantalizingly close.
But how does she know, and how does she fully cross over?
As Cait gradually becomes aware that her mission in life is now to help others while seeking out and destroying evil, she becomes more and more cognizant of the powers her grandmothers can grant her to achieve an end to her chosen quest.
But what quest? And destroy what?
“You know Mum, I’m sure I can help that woman who emailed me after Macillicuddy’s article in the Australian Tribune on the trauma suffered by those not being able to find closure after a missing sibling. Remember it? She lost her son and hasn’t any idea of his whereabouts or whatever happened to him,” Cait said to Jools and G one afternoon during one of their many catch-up chats over coffee in their family living area.
“Her email’s been playing on my mind lately. It’s been like a bad smell; it just won’t go away.”
“So is this you talking, or is it The Gift?” inquired Jools, interested as to where her daughter’s newfound powers of insight would take her.
“Mum, I had a vision last night. A horribly realistic vision. That missing boy in the paper—he was murdered, mutilated.” A cold shiver ran up Cait’s spine as she recounted her vision, replaying the horror in her head of the child’s lifeless body laying on a stone altar, missing its heart.
“I witnessed his murder, and I saw where he’s buried. His death was awful. He was sacrificed.”
The Cait Lennox Box Set Page 50
