Talisman

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Talisman Page 46

by S.E. Akers


  A trauma team was waiting gowned-up & good-to-go as the paramedics carried his body out of the ambulance. I tried to get as close as possible but was quickly ushered back by one of the hospital security officers. Restrained, I watched the man who was the closest thing I had left to a father disappear behind the double doors. Again, I felt helpless and utterly alone.

  I had to get in there to find out how he was. I used a bit more of my reserved strength to break free from the officer’s hold. No sooner than my hands had wrapped around the door handle, the officer yanked me back towards him.

  “Let me go! I have to see how Samuel is!” I snapped.

  “You’re not going anywhere until you calm down, Miss. How do you know the patient?” the security officer questioned in a commanding tone.

  They wouldn’t just let anyone in there with him, let alone disclose his condition. Samuel didn’t have any biological family members around these parts or anywhere else to my knowledge. I was the closest thing.

  “I’m his daughter!” I cried out as I whipped around, without giving our obviously opposing skin tones a second-thought.

  I looked up to see the hospital security officer, who I now recognized was Jack Patterson, chuckling. The stocky, middle-aged man took his finger and ran it down my cheek.

  “I know who you are, Shiloh Wallace. You don’t have to trick me into thinkin’ you’re Samuel’s kin.”

  I didn’t understand what the heck he was talking about — not until he extended his finger towards me, the one he’d just swiped down my face. It was covered in coal dust. Yuck! I could still hear him laughing as I checked my reflection in a nearby window. My face was as black as coal and actually much darker than Samuel’s natural mocha shade. Ugh… And my hair was just a nasty shade of soot gray.

  Jack Patterson took my hand and escorted me through the entrance. All of my senses went haywire as soon as I stepped inside. My eyes were squinting from the glare of the bright fluorescent lights… A strong whiff of alcohol and disinfectant sent my nostrils into a foul twitch… My ears pounded with the rattling sounds of drawn-out “BEEPS” and announcements blaring from the intercom… And of course, my brain had a field-day processing all the random hospital employees whizzing past me every which way, darting in and out of various doors with no answers to be given. Needless to say, my impatience had already kicked into overdrive.

  “Go and get cleaned up,” Jack Patterson instructed. “I’ll call for a nurse to give you an update. The restrooms are right over there.”

  I followed his orders, and when finished, I emerged from the women’s restroom clean-faced, hair rinsed, and smelling like a citrus orchard. I spotted Jack Patterson talking to a tiny woman sitting behind a glass cubicle off to the side.

  “Here she is,” Jack Patterson said as I approached. “Ethel, this is Shiloh Wallace. She’s a family friend of Samuel’s. You can tell her anything she wants to know.”

  I smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Patterson. I appreciate that.”

  Jack Patterson patted my back. “You’re welcome. I’ve gotta go make my rounds, but I’ll come back to check on you a little later. Don’t worry. They’ll take real good care of him back there,” he assured with a stout nod and then headed off down the hall.

  Ethel, the tiny woman sitting behind the glass, asked, “Do you know who Mr. Clark’s next of kin is?”

  The way she phrased the question alarmed me. “No,” I snapped. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Calm down. I need it for my paperwork. I can get most of his information from the mine, but I do need to know if Mr. Clark has a DNR.”

  “A what?” I asked.

  “A DNR . . . A ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ directive. Does he have one?” she asked casually.

  Stunned by yet another question I didn’t want to hear, I scoffed, “I don’t know?!? But PLEASE — Let’s make sure y’all DO ATTEMPT to resuscitate Mr. Clark!”

  Judging from the puckered look now souring Ethel’s face, I’d obviously ticked her off, but right now, I really didn’t give the first flying flip.

  “Please, just find out what’s going on, and how he’s doing. PLEASE?” I pleaded.

  The tiny brunette shot me a glare as she slowly rose from her seat. After a testy pivot, she finally headed off through the double doors that led into the Emergency Room. I paced around the front waiting room nervously, never stopping for a second. Twenty minutes later, I was about to start climbing the freaking walls. It was taking FOREVER for her to return.

  It wasn’t until another five minutes had passed when Ethel finally reappeared through the doors, sauntering at a snail’s pace back to her cubicle. I raced over to the window.

  She slid open a portion of the glass. “The doctor will be out here momentarily to discuss Mr. Clark’s condition with you.” Then without warning, she proceeded to slide the window shut and sat down in her chair, whirling it well away from my open-mouthed stare.

  “That’s IT?” I appealed through the glass. Ethel didn’t even look up. She just kept her head down and dove right into some paperwork lying on her desk, totally ignoring me. I spun around angrily and shook my head. What an insensitive little witch!

  I stormed off and grabbed a seat near the television in the waiting room. I shifted around in a vinyl-padded armchair, trying to find a comfortable position…and believe me, there wasn’t one. Then I resorted to flipping through a stream of outdated magazines hoping to kill some time. I was well on my way to blow-my-brains-out miserable when I finished them all in four minutes flat.

  It wasn’t until fifteen grueling minutes later that a doctor finally stepped into the waiting room. “I’m looking for the young lady who came in with Mr. Clark?” he asked.

  I almost hit the ceiling I sprang to my feet so fast. “That’s me!”

  “Please, Miss . . . follow me,” the tall Indian doctor requested.

  I’d noticed his name stitched on the white lab coat he was wearing, but I didn’t have a clue how to pronounce it. Nervously, I followed the doctor through the massive double doors that led into the ER. We weaved through a maze of stretchers, machines, and desks scattered all throughout the cramped space. Several nurses and technicians were running in and out of a section of the room that had been sealed off with a beige curtain hanging from a track in the ceiling. It was the only area getting a lot of attention, so naturally I assumed Samuel was the unlucky contestant lying behind Curtain Number One.

  The doctor motioned me into a rear office. “Ms. Wallace, I’m Dr. Kupasami. I’ll be performing Mr. Clark’s surgery.”

  I figured Samuel would be going under the knife, what with all the blood I’d witnessed. However hearing my suspicions officially confirmed scraped my ears with the grate of 40-grit sandpaper.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I asked nervously.

  “The ultrasound revealed that Mr. Clark has a lacerated spleen. Most likely, it will have to be removed during surgery, but he can still live a long life without it. The nurses are going to take him across the hall to do a few more CAT scans, just to reconfirm the diagnosis and to make sure there are no other internal injuries. Once we get the results, we’ll address any other concerns and prep him for surgery. The x-rays revealed that Mr. Clark has several cracked ribs on his right side. We will tend to those once he’s out of the operating room. Both of his tibias are broken, as well as his right radius. Luckily, the fractures are closed, so we can reset them while he’s here recuperating. Aside from that, Mr. Clark has a few second-degree burns and several minor cuts. The spleen is the worst of his injuries, but I’m confident from what we’ve seen so far that the surgery will go smoothly. Do you have any questions?”

  I stood there silently trapped in an abyss of conflict. Even though the doctor seemed positive Samuel would pull through the surgery, I decided to delve into his mind just to make sure he wasn’t trying to bullshit me. He wasn’t. The doctor was one-hundred-percent certain Samuel would
pull through just fine, but it was all I could do to restrain myself from running over and ripping back the beige curtain to heal him myself.

  But how on earth would he explain getting up and walking out of here a “healed” man? His injuries were much more than a few cracked ribs and a broken nose. Not only would I have to brainwash everyone who had come in contact with Samuel since he was rushed from the mine to the hospital, but most likely, half the damn town. Surely most everybody knows by now. The news had to have already spread through Welch like wildfire. I was a Talisman who possessed one of the most powerful stones capable of unimaginable physical and mental healing abilities and yet, I felt completely powerless. I couldn’t risk my secret being exposed. I was ridden with guilt over what I thought was a selfish decision. Sadly, like any other distraught loved one, I felt uncomfortably vulnerable, human, and regrettably “normal”.

  “Where can I wait for him?” I asked, broken-hearted.

  The soft-spoken doctor smiled. “There’s a waiting room around the corner reserved for family members of our patients in surgery. I’ll have a nurse escort you there. I’ll update you once he’s out of surgery.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Kupasami.”

  “It’ll be a couple of hours,” he insisted with a nod and then exited the room.

  I ran to the doorway at the urging of my superstitious gut. “PLEASE take good care of him,” I implored. I may have aimed my request to the good doctor, but I wanted it on-record with the cosmos as well. Dr. Kupasami simply smiled back at me and then headed off down the hall.

  I guess that’s good enough, I assessed, feeling a tad more hopeful.

  A statuesque, bleach-blonde nurse came strolling along a few minutes later. I caught several of the males on staff following the woman with their eyes as she passed them, and she carried herself in a way that let you know she was well aware of all the stares she was attracting too. I’ll admit the nurse was quite striking, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she looked strangely familiar. Then like a hard slap to the face, it finally hit me who she was.

  Beverly Rhodes… Charlotte’s former-best friend, I confirmed. No wonder I didn’t recognize her at first. I’d seen bed sheets that hadn’t been pulled as tight or tucked as much as what her face had been. And that wasn’t the only thing new. Two more blatant & bouncy things were sizably evident upon her approach.

  If that nametag of hers was any higher, I swear she’d poke out her eye.

  “Shiloh? Is that YOU?” Beverly asked in a sticky-sweet southern drawl.

  Still stunned by her transformation, I smiled and nodded. She leaned in and gave me quick, tight squeeze.

  “It’s my first day back to work, and I get to run into you. This is a treat! I took a little time off to visit some relatives out west for a couple of months,” Beverly clarified.

  Relatives — My ass, I giggled to myself. Who’s she kiddin’?

  “Shiloh, I haven’t seen you since the party last—”

  “Christmas,” I interrupted. “When Mom stormed out? Cursing the ground you walk on?”

  “That’s right,” Beverly laughed and flipped back her hair. “I really need to call her. Is she still upset?”

  “Of course, she is. We’re talking about my mother, remember?”

  I wasn’t quite sure what had started their little tiff. Knowing now about Charlotte’s extracurricular endeavors and that Beverly was a divorcée who had been playing the field (entire state) for the past several years, I could only assume it had been over some guy in town they were both carrying on with. Even though they always claimed to be ‘close friends’, they were more like rivals, who kept their enemies close.

  Beverly shook her head and sighed. “It’s almost been a whole year. Maybe I should give her a call? You know, be the bigger person.”

  “No . . . You should just drop by and surprise her,” I insisted as I scoped out the new & improved, buxom Beverly Rhodes from head to toe. My mouth crept into a sly smile just thinking about the look on Charlotte’s face when she laid eyes on Beverly. A younger-looking and fresh-faced “bigger” person would surely send her shooting through the roof.

  “You’re right. I’ll stop by. I need to . . .” Beverly stopped and jerked me into a heartfelt embrace. “Pass along my condolences,” she sniveled.

  Beverly continued to express her sympathy as she swayed me back and forth, locked in her arms and uncomfortably pinned up against the twins. When she finally did release me, I was astonished to see only a slightly red, dry-eyed and expressionless Beverly Rhodes standing before me. I could sense she was genuinely saddened by Daddy’s passing but bless her Botox-injected, paralyzed & puffy little heart; she couldn’t have shown it on her face if her life depended on it.

  “Beverly, are you the nurse who’s supposed to take me to the waiting room?”

  With her face still as blank as a whiteboard, Beverly replied, “Yes. Come on and I’ll show you where it is. I’m so sorry to hear about Samuel. But he’s in very good hands. Dr. Kupasami is one of the best surgeons around. He’ll be fine.”

  Beverly led me to the surgical waiting room and insisted she would keep me updated. I curled up in one of the beige leather chairs and prepared myself for what I knew would prove to be the mother of long and punishing waits.

  Waiting here is going to be worse than down in that cave…

  Roughly an hour later, Beverly stopped by to drag me off to the cafeteria for a bite to eat, her treat. I reluctantly accepted her offer. I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but I knew my body needed something. She stayed and chatted while I ate. Even though her outsides had changed, her insides were still the same — just as bubbly, sweet, and kind-hearted as ever. Beverly was the only friend of Charlotte’s that I actually liked, and she was always friendly towards me — which reinforced my longtime claim that they were as different as day and night.

  Beverly informed me that Samuel was still in surgery, but it was going well. They did have to remove his spleen. She said he was lucky that none of his other organs were punctured. Beverly assured me that Samuel would be in the hospital for several weeks recuperating, what with his surgery and all of his broken bones that needed tending to. It wasn’t long before she was giving me another one of her smothering hugs, along with a firm promise that she’d be around with another update a little later.

  I wandered back to the waiting room, mentally noting that I’d managed to kill off another forty-five minutes. Dr. Kupasami came strolling through the double-doors before too much longer. He told me the surgery went extremely well and that Samuel was in the recovery room. I was beyond relieved. Without thinking, I lunged at the doctor, locking him in an embarrassing, hysterical hug while I thanked him repeatedly. The somewhat timid man was very gracious and humored my dramatic display with a few pats on my back.

  I continued waiting there for another hour. With Samuel now out-of-the-woods, my thoughts returned to the unnerving reality that a duo of supernatural-stalkers were out there somewhere, still on the hunt for me. There was no way around the predicament I was in. I would be leaving Welch — for good. I couldn’t understand why Tanner didn’t just come out with it and say so. He’s been brutally honest about everything else this past week. Why stop now?

  There was still a very mysterious, secretive side to Tanner Grey and what he chose to reveal about the nature of Talismans. He didn’t seem to believe the old adage, “knowledge is power”, that was certain. He tended to have a “less is best” perspective. Since I hadn’t heard a single word from him telepathically so far, I could only assume he thought I was still waiting for him down in the cave. I looked over at the clock on the wall. Almost 11:00 AM… I still had plenty of time to get back there. He’ll be none the wiser. And anyway, I couldn’t leave until Samuel woke up. I wasn’t about to run off for what could possibly be forever without telling him goodbye.

  Tanner will just have to get over it…

  B
everly Rhodes came bouncing in to get me a little past noon. She ushered me up to the third floor, where Samuel had been taken to a private room in the ICU wing of the hospital. When we arrived at room 321, Samuel appeared to be resting comfortably with the sounds of beeping monitors and the subtle whistling of oxygen lulling him as he slept. I had to admit he looked a heck of a lot better than when I’d found him lying amongst the coal rubble and covered in blood. Beverly informed me that he was still somewhat groggy from the anesthesia and the pain medication he’d been given, but he should be wide-awake in a little while. She also let me know that an orthopedic physician would set all of his broken limbs tomorrow morning, but in the meantime, they would make sure he wasn’t in any pain whatsoever.

  Beverly started to head out of the room, but she abruptly stopped in the doorway and then spun back around. “Oh, Shiloh, before I forget . . . When the nurses come in here, keep your head down and don’t tell them your name. Okay?” she urged.

  That’s an odd request, I thought as I pulled one of the chairs closer to Samuel’s bedside. Am I hiding out from the whole freaking town now?

  Slightly offended, I inquired, “Why not?”

  Beverly bit her bottom lip. “Well . . .” she sighed and then hesitated. “ . . . Most of the employees had already placed bets in the football pool for next week’s game. I heard the pot was a little over five thousand dollars. Only one person chose the other team. With Mike Riverside not playing, a lot of people are . . . to put it in a nice way, kind of ‘miffed’? Are we clear?”

  I slumped down in my seat, ashamed my actions had indirectly pissed off more people than I could have ever imagined. “Crystal,” I mumbled remorsefully.

  Beverly spied the shame written all over my face, which prompted a sympathetic smile. “Oh now, Shiloh . . . Don’t feel so bad about it. That’s what cocky little pricks get.” With that said, she shot me a sly wink and closed the door behind her.

  As I curled my feet up in the chair, I thought, Add that to my “To-Do” list. I know I have to leave town, but I’d hate to be run out of Welch being chased by angry rednecks waving their shotguns.

  Within a few minutes, the repetitive rhythm of the machines had worked their magic on me as well. I dozed off, exhausted from worry, with my head propped uncomfortably on the corner of the low-back chair.

  I roused suddenly to a strange “beeping” sound. Startled, my eyes flew open instantly while my brain began processing where I was. Samuel’s hospital room… The first thing I spotted was the clock on the wall. What seemed like only a couple of seconds later was more like a couple of hours.

  I rubbed my eyes and thought, Two-thirty? That CAN’T be right.

  I looked over at the hospital bed to find Samuel sitting up, wide-awake and grinning.

  “I can ask them to bring in another bed if you want?” he chuckled.

  “Samuel . . .” I jumped up and leaned over to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. I was dying to hug him, but in light of all his ailments, I felt the peck would have to suffice. “How do you feel?” I asked as I pulled my chair closer to his bed.

  “High as a kite, baby girl,” Samuel said cheerfully.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the goofy smile stretched across his stoned face.

  Curious about how much he recalled about the accident, I probed, “Do you remember what happened?”

  “Not too much. I remember talking to that guy, Ferrol . . . And when I turned around, there was an explosion. More than one of them, I think.”

  Samuel confirmed my suspicions. Yep, definitely sabotage, I thought quietly.

  “Did he cause the explosion?” I asked.

  Samuel paused to think. “He was with me when it happened, but I’m not sure. I don’t remember much,” he admitted, his voice sounding dry and raspy.

  I rubbed his cheek and gave him a consoling smile. I couldn’t help but feel relieved to hear him say that. I knew Ferrol was responsible for the explosions, but I was more concerned about what Samuel remembered about his “rescuer”. Now that would be a tough one to explain.

  I spotted a plastic pitcher and cup sitting on a tray bedside his bed. One of the nurses must have brought it in while I was asleep. I grabbed it and quickly poured him a glass of refreshing ice water.

  “Here, Samuel,” I said as I plopped in a straw and then held the cup up for him to take a much-needed drink.

  “Thank you, Shiloh,” he replied softly.

  “Well, I wait on you at the Drive-In. I guess I can do it here, too . . . especially in your condition. After all, I can’t use the old, ‘what’s wrong with you, is your arm broken’ — because it kind of is,” I joked while I watched him practically inhale his drink in one solid and lengthy sip. As soon as he had finished, I placed the empty cup back down on the tray and began to pour him another.

  “I wasn’t thanking you for the water,” my surrogate father said gratefully.

  Instantly, my stomach flipped. He remembers, I concluded as my eyes stayed focused on the pitcher still hovering over the cup. Slowly, I placed it back down on the tray. The silence filling the room was so stifling I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

  How on earth am I going to explain THIS?

  Samuel let out a sigh. “I told you, Shiloh. Your father and I didn’t have any secrets.”

  I slowly turned my head around to face him. Samuel’s gentle eyes looking back at me sent my walls crashing down immediately. Relieved that I could finally confide in someone close to me, a myriad of emotions overpowered every cell in my body. Then without thinking, I hugged Samuel around his neck while tears of joy and heartache poured from my eyes. If he was in any discomfort, he never showed it. My surrogate father just patted my back with the only limb he had that wasn’t broken and kept telling me, “Everything will be okay.”

  I spent the next hour revealing everything that had happened over the past eight days. Samuel knew about the diamond’s existence through things Daddy had disclosed but insisted he had never actually seen the wand in person. The only thing Daddy had shown him was the rough diamond stone he wore around his neck for protection. He also knew Beatrix Sutherland’s secret identity. Samuel had promised Daddy he would never let on to her or anyone else that he knew she was a supernatural. My surrogate father’s suspicions about me were confirmed when I roughed up Chief Roberts and Officer Ryan at the house last Sunday morning. He wanted to say something to me then, but he hated to “interrupt the show”.

  I asked Samuel if he thought Daddy was crazy when he first told him about Talismans and the Wand of Adamas. Samuel answered with a heartfelt but stern, “I never doubted him for a second.” When I asked him how he knew Daddy was telling him the truth, Samuel simply stated, “I saw it in his eyes. That’s what true friends do, and then they listen with their heart. What you choose to believe will come from your soul.”

  It felt good to finally get this burden off my back. Thankfully, I was able to let someone from my old life into my new one, without the fear of them trying to have me committed. Most assuredly, Daddy would have done his damnedest to keep me safe from beyond the grave. He knew Samuel loved me like his own daughter and would protect me, just the same. That was one of the things fueling my desire to surrender to my destiny. This was something that was important to him, too. Daddy had died for it, and for me. Even in his death, I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him.

  “You don’t have to leave, Shiloh. You can stay with me. I’ll protect you and keep you safe,” Samuel insisted. I smiled and raised my brow as I scanned his wounded body from head to toe.

  “Really?” I questioned humorously. He acknowledged my reservations with a laugh of his own.

  “Oh, Samuel . . . That reminds me. I want to give you something that will keep you safe — for your protection.”

  Samuel’s eyes followed me around the room as I closed the window blinds and then flipped the lock on the door. I sat back do
wn beside him, pulled off my jacket, and rolled up my sleeve. I grimaced as I dug my nails deep into my skin. Once the pain had subsided, I pulled the rough diamond from my arm and cupped it in my hands. With my eyes closed, I did what Tanner had instructed. Since Samuel was a human, I blessed the gemstone with the only ability it allowed—protection—for his mind and soul. As soon as the light radiating from the stone had faded into a soft glow, I knew the incantation was complete.

  I laid the diamond on the tray table in front of him. He stared at the rough little stone in silence for a moment. “You’re giving this…to me?” Samuel questioned curiously.

  I nodded.

  “It looks just like Caiden’s,” he added somberly while traces of tears in his eyes glistened like fresh morning dew.

  “Please keep it with you at all times, Samuel.” I stared at his weakened, crippled body. “The Onyx has already possessed Mike and Coach Hayes to get to me. It’s just a matter of time before he hops into the body of someone I care about. I don’t ever want that to be you.”

  Samuel looked up at me and grinned. “Will do,” he promised.

  Suddenly we were startled by several loud “bangs” on the door. I snatched the diamond off the tray and tucked it in the drawer of his bedside table.

  “It’ll be safe in there . . . for now. Don’t ever let anyone see it or know you have it,” I warned.

  Samuel nodded. With that taken care of, I threw on my jacket to cover my bloody arm and ran over to open the door. There in the hallway stood one seriously ticked-off lab technician.

  “We don’t lock doors around here!” the man barked, like he was scolding a toddler. The grouchy lab tech stormed into the room and practically slammed his carrier of glass vials down on a nearby table.

  Well, excuse me, I thought with a cock of my head.

  “You’ll have to step outside while I collect Mr. Clark’s blood for his lab work,” the man snapped.

  “That’s okay,” I replied sweetly as I looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to be going anyway.” I returned to Samuel’s bedside and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Bye, Samuel. I hope to see you . . . soon?” I announced uncertainly.

  “You will. You can’t get rid of me that easy,” my surrogate father insisted.

  “Take care,” I called back as I stepped into the hall and closed the door behind me. The look on his face was comforting. It was like any other time we’d parted — no more and no less emotion.

  I hope he’s right, I thought quietly as I headed for the elevator. A week ago, you couldn’t have kept me in Welch, not even if someone had glued my feet to the floor or tied me to a chair. Now, it was all I could do to keep from going. Never in a million years would I have dreamed that leaving this small hick-town nestled in the mountains of southern West Virginia would be tearing at my heart in such a way. My one and only desire was to stay.

  I pressed the “down” arrow button on the elevator as I emerged from my thoughts. After about a minute of waiting, I glanced back up at the lights above the shiny stainless-steel door. The elevator hadn’t moved. It remained parked on the first floor. Impatiently, I resorted to the ole two-punch tap and waited a few more seconds. It still didn’t budge.

  It’s only three floors, I thought, so I turned to head for the stairs. As soon as I spun around, I found myself face-to-face with Officer Pete Ryan.

  The corners of his mouth turned down into a nasty scowl. “Just the person I’ve been lookin’ for,” Officer Ryan announced arrogantly.

  By the look on his face and the tone of his voice, I knew this wasn’t a happy coincidence.

  “Why’s that?” I asked curiously. Samuel had said that Chief Roberts wasn’t going to press any charges for the other day. Surely he hasn’t changed his mind? Crap! Maybe he found my purse at the football field?

  Officer Ryan swiftly removed his handcuffs from his belt. I stood there and watched totally stunned from his brash move. The next thing I knew, the officer had grabbed my wrist and whirled my disbelieving frame around, slamming me into the wall beside the elevator. The blow didn’t hurt, but he’d shoved my face into a large metal cross hanging on the wall that was pressing against my cheek. I was willingly pinned, simply because there were too many people around for me to resist like I wanted.

  Officer Ryan leaned over and grunted into my ear, “You’re under arrest for assaulting Mike Riverside.”

  Well, part of my first assumption was correct. Right charge, wrong victim.

  “Coach Hayes has already punished me. I’ve been suspended,” I replied defensively. He’s lost his freaking mind.

  “You’re eighteen now, right?” Officer Ryan questioned snidely.

  I froze, completely freaking wide-eyed. Damn!

  Immediately, he slapped his cold nickel cuffs around my wrists. When he pulled me back towards him, the large metal cross fell off the wall and hit the floor, causing a loud “clank” to echo throughout the hall.

  A hospital security guard came running up the hall towards us. It was Jack Patterson.

  “What’s going on here, Pete?” Jack Patterson demanded.

  Officer Ryan straightened his back with a jerk. “This doesn’t concern you,” he bellowed. “She’s wanted for assaulting Mike Riverside — a minor — at school the other day.”

  A MINOR? I could feel my eyes rolling. That’s a bit of a stretch, to say the least. As soon as Officer Ryan had announced officially “who I was” and “what I’d done”, the entire staff of nurses and technicians who’d been watching erupted in cheers for my apprehension. Several of them clapped, and one little bitch even came strutting over and shook Officer Ryan’s hand.

  Jack Patterson seemed a bit skeptical. The stocky security officer tilted his head. “Did the Riversides’ press charges against her?” he asked.

  “No,” Officer Ryan snapped. “I’m an honorable officer, and I have to uphold the law. I can’t just let a violent crime like this go unnoticed. Especially when there was a room full of witnesses who will attest to what she did.”

  Jack Patterson stood there shaking his head. “That’s WHY you’re arresting her? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the ‘honorable’ bet you placed on the last game, now would it? I heard you gave Terry Cobb an even grand the other day.”

  I listened quietly while Mr. Patterson accused Officer Ryan of placing an illegal bet with Terry Cobb, a shady dirt-bag who was a notorious small-scale bookie and moonlighted as the town’s resident pimp.

  Officer Ryan’s brow rose. “You don’t know jack — Jack! I’m taking her in!” Not even a second after Officer Ryan pressed the button, the elevator began to rise towards our floor.

  Oh, NOW it comes! I lowered my head, disgusted by the recent turn of events. I wasn’t so much concerned about Officer Ryan, or even the fact that I was being hauled into jail. My only gnawing thought was placing my “one phone call” with a magic purple rock.

  Ughhh! He’s going to be SO pissed…

  While we waited for the elevator, my gaze casually drifted down to the large metal cross lying on the shiny terrazzo tiles. Jack Patterson picked it up off the floor. He handled it in a rather unusual way — grabbing it by its small tip, rather than by its much longer end. Almost involuntarily, I tuned out all the random sounds and noisy chatter as a strange feeling overwhelmed my mind. My eyes were fixated on Jack Patterson as he presented the metal cross to one of the women at the nurse’s station. The way he was holding it upside down, it looked like…a sword. Suddenly, a memory surfaced about what Mike had revealed when he’d driven me to the mine after the dance. About Lazarus chanting to some sort of cross he kept in a chest. The “ding” from the arrival of the elevator mirrored the bell that was going off in my head.

  My eyes shot open. The HILT! It did resemble a cross! Tanner was right. That had to be what Lazarus was chanting to… It makes perfect sense. It did lead him here. It’s been here all along!

&nbs
p; As soon as the stainless-steel door opened, Officer Pete Ryan shoved me into the elevator. I crashed into an empty stretcher parked idly inside.

  “You don’t have to be so rough with her, Pete!” Jack Patterson blasted.

  “Trust me . . . She can handle it,” Officer Ryan sneered.

  I have to find that hilt…but first, I need to take care of a little “police business”, I noted quietly as I watched him enter the elevator.

  “This will be an arrest I won’t forget,” Officer Ryan announced smugly as the elevator doors closed.

  Not if I can help it…

  “Alone” arrived a lot quicker than I’d anticipated. With no one else in the elevator, Officer Pete Ryan spun me around and pinned my hips against the stretcher, just for kicks.

  “I have to frisk all violent criminals,” Officer Ryan guffawed.

  As he patted me down, I could tell he was taking a lot of enjoyment in this standard procedure. In fact, his enjoyment was pressing against my rear.

  Ugh! I’m going to puke… Mental note — Change of plans.

  Officer Ryan paused and tapped several times on the front pocket of my jeans. “What do we have here?” He reached in and pulled out my two little stones — the tumbled amethyst and the rough serpentine. He held them up in the air. “Hmmm… Rocks could be considered dangerous weapons.”

  You have no idea, I grumbled as I turned around, glaring.

  Officer Ryan was standing there casually tossing my stones up and down in the air like a reckless fool. “I’m surprised,” he chucked, “I figured you just had ’em in your head. I didn’t expect to find ’em in your pants, too.”

  “You’re an asshole,” I replied flatly.

  The cocky officer grinned. “Sticks and stones.”

  This time, I laughed with him — sarcastically, of course. I waited until his eyes were looking up at the stones in mid-air and then I used my head to cold-cock the arrogant bastard. One quick blow to the front of his skull was all it took for him to drop to his knees. Though it was hard (mentally), I did manage to keep a lid on 99% of my strength. I even caught my stones behind my back before they landed on the floor. Quickly, I snapped the chain connecting the handcuffs. I bent down and felt his wrist for a pulse. I shook my head and giggled. What do you know? He does have a heart after all.

  I glanced up at the digital numbers above the elevator door. We were almost at the first floor. Without a second to lose, I hoisted him up and threw him on the vacant stretcher. The broken cuffs were dangling like bracelets from my wrists. I’d succeeded in yanking one of them off, but I had to stop abruptly when I heard the sound of the elevator “dinging”, announcing the arrival to our destination. Not knowing whom (if anyone) would be standing outside when the doors opened, I quickly yanked the white sheet over Officer Ryan to conceal him from anyone’s sight and tucked my stones back inside my pocket.

  From out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the doors were now open. I looked over to see Beverly Rhodes standing there, her eyes stretched just as wide as the doors.

  She stepped into the elevator. “Shiloh? What are you doing?” She spotted the shiny handcuff still locked around my wrist.

  I’d tried to hide my hand behind my back, but I was too late. Beverly gazed at the stretcher suspiciously and then whipped back the crisp white sheet.

  “Pete Ryan?” Beverly questioned, confused. She glanced down at the dangling cuff on my hand. “Did YOU do this?” Before I could say anything, she waved her hand in the air in a shushing motion. “Don’t tell me,” Beverly insisted and grabbed his wrist to check his pulse. Once she had discovered it, Beverly leaned over him and gave his forehead a hard “flick” with her fingers.

  “Shiloh, honey . . . I’m going to show you what cocky ‘big pricks’ get,” she announced with a devious look igniting her eyes.

  Beverly motioned me out of the elevator as she covered Officer Ryan back up with the sheet. While she guided the stretcher out into the hall, I whispered to her “why” he was arresting me. She was instantly outraged. Then Beverly hurried over to a nearby desk where she grabbed a chart and began jotting something down.

  Beverly hugged me and instructed, “Run along now, Shiloh. I have to take our patient down the hall. You wouldn’t want him to be late for his procedure, now would you?”

  “What procedure?” I asked curiously.

  Beverly flipped the chart around. “His colonoscopy, of course. And don’t you worry . . . After I pump him full of Rohypnol, he won’t remember a thing,” she added with a wink and then shooed me away with her hands. “Bye, Shiloh.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched Beverly Rhodes bounce down the hall with a noticeable pep-in-her-step.

  Thank you, Beverly, I praised as I ripped the other cuff off my wrist and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. I’d planned on compelling the good officer, but her plan had a nicer ring.

  I’ve always liked her, I thought as I bolted out the door and then dashed into the woods, headed in the direction of the Riverside estate. My next stop — the guesthouse.

  Chapter 24

 

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