AMELIE - Part VIII

 

 

AMELIE - PART VIII

© Tamsin L. Silver 2013

 

(seeing as I missed an episode last week...you get a double one this week...enjoy! And remember...if you are new to the AMELIE story...just scroll down or look to the right and click on January to see where it begins. Tamsin)

 

 

 

Killian thrashed in my arms. “Let me go! Mom! Dad! Oh my God…Dad! Let me go, you winged-freak!”

Paying no attention to Killian’s name-calling, I felt his fear roll off him and slam into my throat. Swallowing it, I said, “We are on the roof. Where would you go?” Without giving him the chance to answer, I said, “Hold on.” I beat my wings once, twice, and took flight, carrying him over to where Pastor Steven had tumbled over the edge of the hill and into the brush.

Killian’s feet hit the ground running, heading down the embankment as if sliding into home base. Once he reached his father under the brush, which had stopped him from rolling down the hill, he found him unresponsive.

Killian shook his father. “Dad? Dad! Come on, Dad, you have to wake up…Dad!”

Kneelling, I pulled my wings into my back to form the tattoo so that they wouldn’t be in the way, and said, "He's alive, just unconscious."

With tears in his eyes, Killian turned to me. “Can you help him?”

I leaned down, turned his face, and saw the glowing cross on his forehead.

“What is that?” Killian asked.

“Seems I already did help your father. Give me your shirt.”

“What?”

“We need to wrap the shoulder wound so he doesn’t bleed out.”

Killian didn’t hesitate before he pulled his long sleeved T-shirt off and handed it to me. His bare chest struck me as fascinating, which I didn’t understand the reason for. In Heaven, we didn’t wear much clothing. I’d seen a man’s bare chest before. Yet, I found myself staring for a brief moment at the lines and muscles that played across Killian’s skin before taking the shirt.

Tearing it to maximize size, I began to wrap the T-shirt around the pastor’s shoulder in a tight field dressing. “Is there a hospital near here?”

“There’s a medical center in town, but it’s not a hospital.”

“That will be fine. We need to get him there now. Help me get him into your vehicle and then collect your brother. We need to hurry.”

“But my mom…she…”

“We’ll be back once he is not in danger of losing too much blood.” Seeing Killian was in shock, I bent down, slid an arm under the pastor’s back and the other under his knees.

“I can help with—” Killian swallowed his offer to help as he saw me lift his father with ease.

“I have him.”

“I…uh…see that.”

“Which car is yours?”

“The Jeep,” he said. When I stared at him he clarified further, “The one without broken windows. Seems it was wise to have them rolled down after all.”

I began to walk toward the vehicle he called a Jeep. “Fetch Davey. I don’t want to leave him here.”

Killian jogged ahead of me, opened the back door to the Jeep, and headed into the church. With utmost care, I lay the pastor in the back seat in a way that put no pressure on his left shoulder. I looked down on the face of Pastor Steven, brushing away hair from his eyes so I could inspect his forehead better, and marveled at the cross I’d put there earlier with the holy water. Invisible to the naked eye only ten minutes ago, now it shone like the sun from his flesh.

“Everything happens for a reason. God must’ve been directing my hand in that room.”

Hearing the sobs of a child, I looked up to see Killian, now wearing a different shirt, carrying Davey, who was in tears. I stepped out of the back.

Killian’s eyes traveled over me. “You’ll need a shirt.”

“Oh! Yes. Davey can ride on my lap. Hold on.”

With the inhuman speed I possessed, I ran to where I’d discarded my shirt earlier. “Esther, come.”

The sword appeared in my hand and I lay her into my skin, picked up my shirt, and put it on as I headed back to the Jeep. Killian started the engine as I eased into the passenger side. I put my arms out to Davey, who allowed me to put him on my lap, where he cried.

Killian didn’t hesitate. The minute I shut my door, he backed up. Peeling out of the gravel drive, he headed down the road that led only to and from the church. “Hold on.”

Turning to look over my shoulder, I stole a glance at the Pastor. His color could’ve been better, but he wasn’t in the danger zone, yet. 

Davey’s sobs slowed down as he hid his face in my shoulder. I pet his head and watched Killian as he drove in a silence filled with words he wasn’t saying. I knew he had questions. I knew he’d ask. It seemed now wasn’t the time. Instead, he just focused on the road, driving double the speed limit, even around curves. This caused my heart to begin to race, which fascinated me both in good and bad ways.

When the silence in the Jeep reached a painful level, I said, “Killian?”

“No. Not now.” He flicked a glance at Davey and then his eyes were back on the road.

I nodded, understanding his meaning. Watching his face, I saw many things: fear, pain, confusion, panic, love, and a hate that very likely could be for me as well as the demon that had attacked his family. The color of his cheeks was a pink that telegraphed to me that even though he wasn’t ranting at me, he was inside his own mind. However, his father’s safety and his brother’s innocence to the events that led up to this moment were more important, so those rants stayed inside, for now.

In the distance, I caught sight of civilization. It appeared to be a small strip of buildings that reminded me of the Midwest towns in the late nineteenth century with a modern touch of cars, cement instead of wooden walkways, pavement instead of dirt roads, and modern building materials. Yet, with a name like ‘Main Street’ and the sight of mom and pop shops on either side of the road, solidified the small town feel.

We drove past a small grocer’s market, a candy store, soda shop, and a movie theater that only listed two movies and I could see why a modern teenager like Killian would’ve been bored and irritable in this area. Thankfully, at the end of Main street, Killian turned right and in the distance I saw what appeared to be a large, one story, modern looking building with a half circle front drive.

Pulling up to the front, I noticed that the doors to the left led to the primary building, which belonged to the medical center, whereas the doors to the right were for the vet hospital. Killian turned the engine off and bolted out of the car as I eased a cried-out Davey from the vehicle to stand on his own two feet.

Killian carefully gathered up his father.

“Do you need—” I began to ask.

He gave me a look that stopped me mid-sentence and lifted his father out of the back seat. He proceeded to carry him toward the building like I had earlier, but with a bit more difficulty. The doors magically slid open for him and he whisked into the facility.

 

I squatted down to look Davey in the eyes. “Do you want to stay out here?” He shook his head. “Okay. Just remember, I’m a cousin from out of town. Yes?” He nodded, so I took his hand and squeezed. “Let’s go.”

The doors slid open for us, causing the smell of sterilization and sickness to slam into my senses, urging me to turn around and walk out. Attempting not to breathe in too deeply, I hustled Davey over to where doctors were removing Pastor Steven from Killian’s arms and laying him on a gurney.

The one doctor leaned in, prying open the pastor’s eyes, using a pen light to look into them. “How long has he been out?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes. It’s about a ten minute drive from the church, Doctor Welles.”

The doctor listened to Pastor Steven’s heartbeat. Hearing what he needed, he took the stethoscope out of his ears and inspected the shirt I’d tied around the shoulder. Turning, he ordered blood, an O.R., and other medical terms I didn't know to the men around him. They, in turn, nodded and left with Pastor Steven through double doors in a hurry. 

Turning, Dr. Welles addressed Killian. “That dressing was expertly done. It very likely saved his life. You?”

“Me,” I offered.

Noticing me for the first time, Dr. Welles’ dark blue eyes scanned me from head to toe. “And you are?”

Jumping in before Killian made up something or fumbled for words, I said, “I’m their cousin, Amelie.”

Dr. Welles seemed to take that in, as he looked me over. “I didn’t know they had any. But this is well done. Can either of you tell me what happened before I head into into surgery?”

“It’s an axe wound,” I blurted out.

Dr. Welles’ eyes grew wide as he rehung his stethoscope around his neck. Giving instruction to the orderlies that had moved the pastor to the gurney, they began to wheel him through double doors into what I assumed would be an operating room.

“How did he get an axe in the shoulder?”

Killian fumbled. The doctor turned eyes on me.

I was unable to lie. Angels can’t. We could omit, but not lie. “Charles. His name was Charles. He wasn’t himself when he did it though.”

Killian nodded. “I believe his last name is Connelly. Charles Connelly. He’s a friend of my mom’s.”

“And where is Patricia? Did you call her?”

“Ummm…” I started to say.

“I’ll call her now,” Killian interjected.

The doctor nodded absently as he signed a paper the nurse gave him. “Okay. Stay out here. I’ll be with you once I’ve worked on your father. Is he allergic to anything?”

“No, sir.”

“Have a seat. Carol? Please help the McGregor family find a place to sit and wait.” Seeing the fear on Killian’s face he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He should be just fine. Go, sit.”

Killian nodded, as if numb, and the doctor exited through the same double they’d taken the pastor.

I took Davey’s hand. “Let’s go sit over there.”

“Killian? I just need you to fill out these papers,” the nurse Dr. Welles had referred to as Carol, instructed.

Killian signed papers and I went to the chairs and couches in the corner where only two people sat. A man stood from a love seat and offered it to me. I thanked him and sat, allowing Davey to curl up with his head on my lap.

Once done with paperwork, Killian came back over with the same nurse at his heels. “Thank you, Carol.”

“Oh, it’s not problem at all. Come on, Davey, we have a room in the back with a comfy couch and snacks. Do you want a hot chocolate?”

Davey wiped the remnants of tears from his eyes and looked to his big brother for the okay. When Killian nodded, he got off my lap, took Nurse Carol’s hand, and was led behind the counter and through a door.

Killian’s green eyes bore into mine. “I have to move the Jeep. Come with me.”

“Is it safe to leave Davey with others right now?” I asked.

“Carol is a Sunday School teacher at the church. She’s fine. I need to speak to you. Now.” He turned on a heel and walked out the front door of the medical center.

I rubbed my face. How much could I tell him? I wasn’t even sure I understood what happened so how could I explain it to someone else? Standing, I pulled the band Patricia had given me for my hair out, put it around my wrist as she had, and let my red curls fall around my face. As I followed Killian out, I found I was more afraid to face this teenage boy than I had been the demon. It struck me as funny but I dared not smile as I exited the building.

The doors whispered closed behind me and I saw Killian sitting in the Jeep, staring straight forward, saying nothing. Attempting to settle my stomach, I crossed around the vehicle and got in. He drove in silence around to the parking lot and turned the car off. He got out, slammed the door, and walked toward a small park filled with paved walking paths, trees, flowers, and benches. Scanning the area, I saw no other humans. Killian must’ve done the same, for as he reached the center of the park he spun on me, rage and furry now engulfing his features.

“Answers. I want them and I want them now! Are you the reason my father may be dying in there?” he yelled at me, throwing his arm toward the center, pointed at it. “Are you the reason that thing attacked my family?”

I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to with all of my being. Instead, since I couldn’t lie, I said the only thing I could. “I don’t know.”