Book 1 of “The Catalyst” Series
Chapter 11: A New Perspective
In my role as Alex’s biographer, I chose to write it in first-person in order to portray the conflicts and situations he faced. I’ve managed to convey Alex’s shock and awe; well, his shock at events at least, and the awe of those surrounding him. But there are some specific limitation in first person narrative, and with this chapter, I found I’d written myself into a bit of a corner. So I’m switching to third-person in this chapter in order to better reflect the awe of his followers as the first perceived him and his energy—which is hard to convey from his perspective. Although it’s awkward switching like this, this won’t be the only time I do it, as there are a few other instances where I have to convey things that Alex simply was never fully aware of. Again, the events and discussions were gathered both from personal experience and from consultation with the others involved, so I’m sure I’ve done a good job of covering what happened. Much of this will be familiar to those who have grown up hearing of this particular aspect of him from those in our community. Many of you who haven’t had access to those that were amongst his chosen few won’t have heard it, and that’s who this is directed towards.
“So I said, ‘Look, it ain’t who you know, it’s who knows you that’s important,’” Brooke said, delivering the punch line with a dead-on delivery, causing Clark to burst out laughing.
Clark almost always laughed at Brookes many ridiculous stories. They were silly, but they hit a nerve they both shared. In this case, they both considered Frank, the subject of the story, an idiot, so the fact he gets his comeuppance in it struck both as being richly deserved. In fact, Clark laughed so hard that Brooke grew nervous about his ability to maintain control of the ambulance as they drove through the crowded streets on the way back to their station house. But she repressed that response. She had always trusted Clark to get them where they needed to go and she really needn’t have worried. Clark took his responsibilities seriously, and he’d never risk his truck, either of them, or one of their patients.
“Unit 4, unit 4,” the radio blared, interrupting their momentary reprieve, “you’ve got an apparent heart attack on Baronne Street between Poyndras and Peridido Streets.”
“Unit 4 responding,” Brooke answered, since she was riding shotgun and had her hands free. “Are you sure you should be calling us? We’re a hell of a ways from there. We’re just returning from a call way out on the Westbank Expressway and it’ll take us quite a while to get there.”
“Understood,” the dispatcher relayed before explaining the reason for the odd call. “The other ambulances are all occupied with a big pile up out on the Interstate. You’ll have to cover this one for us. The police should be there when you arrive, so just look for the flashing blue. But try to step on it if you can, this one sounds bad and it’s already been awhile.”
“Jesus,” Clark swore, nervously combing his short hair back with his fingers like he often did when stressed, “that’ll take us another fifteen to twenty minutes to get there. I sure hope a couple of the cops on the scene know enough first aid to keep whoever’s hurt alive until we can get there.”
“I don’t know,” Brooke said doubtfully, biting her lip in her own tell-tale trait much like her partner’s, “most of them know basic CPR, but that’s about it. It might be enough, but it might not.”
“Unit 4 acknowledging, Base Unit,” Brooke radioed back, acknowledging the call. “Please be advised we’re estimating a twenty minute response time.”
“Understood Unit 4,” the dispatcher responded wearily, already knowing the difficult situation he was putting one of his best units under. He knew that putting undue pressure on good people was an almost guaranteed way to burn them out, especially if you set them up where they’d feel guilty if the patient died through no fault of their own. But the pair had come through many times in the past, and he hoped they’d continue to do so. “Please do the best you can. If the local cops have any questions, I’ll relay them through to you. Over and out.”
“Yeah, over and out,” Brooke acknowledged, swearing to herself as she did so.
“Wouldn’t you know it,” Clark said, straightening his black metal frame glasses while trying to control his anger. “They pull this knowing everyone’s out of range. Why don’t they just let the cops throw him in a car and drag the guy’s sorry ass to the hospital? Waiting for us will likely kill him,” he stated as he turned the siren on and pulled out into traffic, changing lanes as he added speed.
“It’s because of that mess a couple of months ago,” Brooke reminded him, the wind from the open window blowing her long light brunette hair aflutter around her face. “You remember, they tried that and killed a guy. Now they’re all gun-shy, and won’t approach anyone until they kill someone waiting for us. This may very well be that case. I hope not though, ‘cause so far we’ve had a fairly good record.”
“Yeah, well if we do, it’s because of you, Brooke,” Clark replied, glancing over at his 37-year-old partner, trying to ignore her signature nipples pressing against her shirt. Why she couldn’t wear a bra like everyone else, he never knew. “You always seem to know when and where to go in order to get to trouble before it’s reported. I don’t know how you do it, but you just seem to have a knack. It’s managed to save a lot of people and it’s improved our record in the process.”
“Hey, don’t be telling any lies,” she cautioned him self-consciously. “I just get lucky. Sometimes I just get a hunch and it pans out. There are times when my hunches are wrong as well.”
“Well, I don’t seem to remember many of those,” he replied, staring at her to demonstrate that he didn’t buy a word of it without having to explicitly say it, “but I remember plenty when they were dead on.”
“Anyway, let me look up what might be in the way,” she said, hoping to end that topic. Her ability to anticipate things was something that unnerved even her. She’s never understood it, but she’d come to rely on it. “It’s a pretty busy area at this time of day. It’s a one way going north, but we’ll just rely on the lights and turn in off of Poydras. I guess once we get close we’ll figure out where to turn. They didn’t even give us a specific address this time.”
“Probably because they figure the guy’ll be dead by then,” Clark snorted, smiling unhappily. Brooke had to concede he had a point.
Brooke Knowles had been an Ambulance EMT for a fair number of years. She had been riding with Clark Straus for the last five. He was a good partner. He sometimes cursed and could definitely say the wrong thing on many occasions, but he was reliable and knew what he was doing. She was always glad to have him around whenever trouble hit, and in a field like this, trouble hit with amazing regularity.
She held on as he took a corner at a high rate of speed. It seemed like blind luck that kept them from colliding with that cab, but she knew she could always rely on his excellent driving to pull them through something like that. He had steady hands, even when hers would get all sweaty when things got tough. Still, they were both tough old birds. The bosses kept threatening to put them both with the young kids, but so far they kept them together simply because their numbers were so good. True, they’d frequently put a newbie in to ride with them, but they’d allowed the two of them the freedom to ride together, which was a blessing in itself. Brooke knew that no one else would listen to her intuitions as Clark had eventually learned to. It had taken a long time before Brooke could even mention them to him.
Both Brooke and Clark were EMTs, Emergency Medical Technicians, and it was their job to handle emergency care in cases where they were usually the first responders. It had many drawbacks, the stress of never knowing enough—either of their patients’ conditions or of the necessary medicine, not being the least of them—but it had its advantages as well. One was that it was very satisfying to be able to rescue dozens of people a day. Sure, many never made it and that was a bummer, but those that did more than made up for it. They served a purpose and were making a significant improvement in the lives of those they served. That plus a good paycheck made a difference. The extra bonuses they earned for their high survival rate certainly didn’t hurt either.
Careening through traffic at a breakneck pace, Clark distracted them both by droning on about his troubles with his newest girlfriend. He never managed to keep one for very long, and Brooke could certainly understand why. The guy was a good friend and a trusted partner, but aside from that, he was a real pig. While he was berating the newest conquest’s physical attributes, Brooke let her mind wander. Today was a beautiful sunny day and that always spelled trouble in a city like New Orleans. Although they had a lot of warm days here, it always brought out the crazy tourists or the local rowdies. Someone would, inevitably, try something crazy and all hell would break loose, thus the sudden increase in accidents this morning.
As they drew near the city’s business district, Brooke got another feeling like she’d traditionally get—guiding her towards something significant. Only this seemed to be starting sooner than normal. It wasn’t alerting her to something about to happen, like how it usually occurred, this seemed to be farther away, possibly where they were heading. She didn’t usually get warnings this far away. She kept patient, not saying anything yet, but it seemed to be the case, the feeling gradually grew stronger the closer they got. She guessed it had something to do with the emergency they were heading towards, but these feelings had always been immediate in the past. Just short warnings based on an immediate need, like warning them not to turn at a particular time, or to expect trouble at a particular location. This new feeling was growing stronger the closer they got, but they were still quite far away.
Since it was so steady, she actually had time to analyze it. Something she’d never been able to do before. Usually it was just a brief flash and would be gone before she was even fully aware of it. She knew from experience to trust her instincts. That’s about all she could call them because they were always so brief. Now she could feel it as if it were an old shirt, familiar and comfortable. It told her that what they were approaching was significant in a way she hadn’t experienced before. Usually she’d get a brief glimmer of trouble, a momentary warning when something was about to go wrong, or a quick nudge to help her decide something on time, but this was constant, and increasingly powerful.
“You’d better give it a bit more speed,” she warned her partner, glancing at him with a particularly worried expression. “I don’t know what it is, but this one feels significant. Somehow this one is more important than the others.”
Clark took her warning seriously, nodding to her acknowledgement. She had a knack for always knowing just what to do and when to do it. But he could also tell that this time she was a bit unnerved. There was just something odd this time. Since they both had such obvious tells, they’d given up playing poker together long ago, and she was biting her lip again, as well as drumming her fingers against her thigh. It seemed the stars were aligned on this one. First, the call way out in the boondocks, then the unexpected pileup out on the interstate, now this problem back in the heart of the city with no one there to respond in time. Something big was brewing and he didn’t like it at all. This many unlikely events, all piling up on one another, portended something momentous, and momentous wasn’t something you looked forward to serving as an EMT, since it usually involved multiple deaths.
Brooke had always been in tune with nature in such a way that she could frequently anticipate accidents or unexpected illnesses. It was part of what made her so successful in this occupation. She’d often guess at a diagnosis based on nothing more than a hunch and very often it would bear out. Sometimes something would happen at the scene of an accident and she’d be ready for it when it occurred. She’d learned to trust her instincts as a result. This time it wasn’t just an inkling, it was a full on assault on her psyche.
She seemed to not only be able to sense its direction but also its distance. She thought she could tell Clark just how far away they were without looking at the onboard GPS unit, but she resisted the impulse. Instead she checked the display just to be sure. It was spot on. She now knew that what she was feeling was where they were headed, and was likely the source of the incident. However she didn’t worry about how she could know such things, she was much more concerned with finding out what it was that was directing her.
“Come on, Clark, this is REALLY important,” she told her partner, stressing just how unusually vital this information was in a no-nonsense tone of voice.
“Yeah, you and that damn woman’s intuition thing you have going,” Clark playfully groused, watching Brooke’s mood grow steadily worse. “How come my dates never have enough intuition to know I don’t like shopping and watching some damn play? You tell me that and maybe I’ll trust these damn hunches of yours,” he told her he applied yet more gas and continued weaving through traffic, cutting dangerously close to cars that couldn’t get out of his way fast enough. Brooke was used to Clark’s varying moods. His driving and his dedication were reliable but his moods were anything but. He’d praise you for making his career one moment, and then tell you the thing that achieved it was shit the next.
“Ambulance four, this is car 3020,” announced the authoritative voice of a police officer over the radio.
“Unit four reporting,” she answered back, anxious to hear anything she could about the accident they were approaching—not necessarily for professional reasons either. “What’ve you got for us?”
“I’m at the scene. We’re attending the man down. He was out when we arrived but the woman who was with him reported he was still active and responsive before we arrived. We’ve begun CPR on him, but so far he’s completely unresponsive.”
“Understood, Officer, keep up the CPR, we’re still a fair distance away. Hopefully you’ll get a response soon and we’ll be able to carry him to the Hospital for you.”
“Affirmative,” the voice responded, sounding distracted and worried. Brooke didn’t recognize him offhand, but that wasn’t surprising. There were lots of officers and she could hardly know all of them. Even more, many officers didn’t have clearly recognizable voices over the staticky service radios.
As Clark careened around another curve, Brooke could feel more of what they were driving towards. They were still a couple miles from the site, but she felt she could tell Clark how far away it was to the very foot. However, now that they were getting closer and the feelings grew stronger, she began to realize these weren’t the same sensations that had always warned her of danger in the past. No, she could feel a sense of power. There was something very strong there and that was what she was feeling. It’s not likely the victim, but probably the cause of the emergency, she realized. When images of an alien invasion or a huge psychic attack flashed in her mind, she purposely fought them down and considered the more realistic options. Maybe the victim suffered a shock from what she was picking up, which produced the heart attack? No, again she could feel that wasn’t likely. For some odd reason, she felt she could trust the source of these feelings. However, she no more understood why than she understand the feelings themselves.
Clark slowed down as he took the last couple of turns while Brooke held on, partly to keep from being thrown, but also just to steady herself from the onslaught of these sensations. She wasn’t used to these feelings. Previously the warnings she got were just fleeting impulses, something that was very easy to rationalize, to tell yourself it was simply your intuition and nothing more. But this was clearly overpowering. There was something ahead which both terrified and fascinated her, and she had no clue what it might be or what it represented. However, as they rounded the last curve with a police officer out directing traffic, she swallowed and decided she couldn’t let these feelings dissuade her. She had a job to do and possibly a life to save. Getting distracted by anything else would be detrimental to everyone. She’d deal with the emergency and then try to figure out what was guiding her later. Surely it wasn’t associated with the accident if she wasn’t getting any indication of what to do.
Flashing blue lights indicated the location of the victim and Clark drove as close as he could. They both knew they were very late by the large number of onlookers standing around. Brooke grabbed her kit and jumped out, rushing to the cluster of people surrounding a reclined form she was all too familiar with. One officer was kneeling over the figure working on him. She rushed to his side.
“We’re here,” she called, realizing the police would be anxious to be relieved. “We’ll take over.” The chances are there was little anyone could do since the victim had been unresponsive for so long.
“Thanks,” the burly cop responded, a bit breathlessly from having labored over the prone figure for so long. “‘Bout time you guys showed up. The guy’s been down for some time now.” The big cop shifted over, allowing Brooke to take over without much of a delay.
“Yeah, we had problems with logistics this morning,” she informed him, not really knowing why she bothered. “We had a call way out in the burbs and all the other available trucks were at an accident scene,” she said as she began pumping the man’s chest, hoping to trigger the heart to start again, even though it was highly unlikely. However, even as she did so, her attention was drawn away from what she was doing, and she found herself glancing into the crowd staring at her from a relatively short distance away.
She knew she had little chance of saving someone who’d been down for so long. If there was any chance of saving him, there was only one possible alternative at this point. She zeroed in on a single figure she saw lurking behind the barricade, the people beside him saw her looking and quickly began whispering to each other and trying to look inconspicuous. The figure was a clean faced young man looking down, apparently trying to hide within himself. He briefly glanced up at her, but quickly looked away again before she could lock eyes with him as if afraid of being recognized, but she knew him for what he apparently was. There was no other sensible answer for the radiating power pouring out of him.
The source of this power she felt had to be a person, she’d realized, and she was absolutely sure that it was coming from the young man trying to hide behind the row of people behind the police tape. Then an awful realization struck her and she felt as if her heart had just dropped out of her chest. This power was WAY too strong, much too personal, and yet no one else seemed to notice it beside her. She’d been around powerful and important people before and they never gave off waves of anything. She’d dealt with Senators, Congressmen, Mayors, and was even there when the leader of the free world had visited Orleans. None had seemed any more than just an average guy in a nice suit surrounded by lots of security. No, this single unobtrusive individual held a palpable energy that was anything but human. It had to be otherworldly, but she simply didn’t believe in little green men. No, this would have to be some kind of spiritual energy. She felt herself easing back, forgetting her efforts to save the man as these realizations swept over her. She slowly pieced one piece after another together as she unraveled the mystery. She had to shake her head to refocus her energy, to begin again, but she managed to separate her thought processes from her mechanical actions, since she knew these motions so intimately. The only thing she could think of that could account for such an amazing spiritual power was an angel. Actually one specific angel, the angel of death! And if she was the only one able to detect his immense power, that surely meant that he was here for her—the only one who wouldn’t be able to tell anyone else about it. He couldn’t look at her because it wasn’t yet her time, but she knew in her heart that it was only a matter of seconds until it was, since she’d felt drawn to this time, to this lone figure, ignoring everything else going on around here. That was clearly why he refused to look at her, she knew that as soon as their eyes met, that his power would wash over her, and then she’d be gone, done for, lost to the eternal blackness of death. He wasn’t here for the man she was trying to save, but for her.
Despite this terrible realization, she wasn’t afraid. She kept working, feeling her body taking over for her as her mind danced around these concepts. She was nervous, assuredly, but the character didn’t seem to bear her any ill will. Whatever it planned didn’t seem to be personal in any way. She quickly considered that. No, although the angel of death had always been pictured as a scary skeleton bearing a sickle, he was always there to take people away when it was their time. He had nothing invested in punishing them. When it was a person’s time, it was simply their time. We all worked to pull people back, but when you couldn’t—like the person she was working on—then they simply passed. In fact, she felt such a sense of comfort from the powerful figure, she thought of the words she so often heard from religious figures when faced with unexpected deaths. ‘No one knows the will of God’. She’d always thought it a copout before, but maybe they had something. Maybe he was here to save her from something far worse than death. Maybe by remaining beyond her time she would face an even worse future.
What’s more, she could feel that this angel of death was kind and generous, and bore her no ill-will. He was here to help guide her, to take her from this mortal coil to the next world, and she grasped that concept as if it was a lifeline. It certainly made no sense to fight such an awesome power, especially when it was clearly trying to help her through this difficult process.
Just then Clark came sliding in beside her, lugging the defibrillator. As he started it up, she had to focus on what she was doing or risk getting shocked. While she doubted she’d die from that, she certainly didn’t want to be stricken unresponsive moments before her death. No, she wanted to know more about this powerful angel that had come for her.
She heard the call of “CLEAR!” and pulled back as a powerful shock jolted the unmoving body off the ground, but he remained impassive as she resumed her CPR.
“Increasing charge,” Clark warned. Brooke wordlessly acknowledged the caution as she continued to think about the powerful being standing so near her. Now that she had time to consider it, she couldn’t quite figure out what it was here for. If it wanted to take her, it could do so at any moment, and alerting her that it was there would only alert everyone else that something strange was going on. It seemed to just be standing there, waiting for something. It wasn’t even acting like the rest of the onlookers, trying to get a look at the activity taking place under her hands. No, chances are it already knew the fate of the individual she was working on. Either it already knew his fate, or it was waiting for something else entirely.
The second call of “CLEAR!” surprised her, and she just managed to pull her hands free before the inert body jumped again. In either case, whether it was here for her or for something else, she felt no fear. It held no malice, it was simply doing what it had to do, whatever that was. It was then she decided she had better watch herself, as it may be watching what she was doing and passing judgment on her feeble attempts to save a life. Still….
“Clark, take over for me,” she commanded.
“But I’m—” he started to protest before she cut him off.
“I know, but don’t worry about that now, it’s not having any effect. Just take over and keep up the CPR.” He quickly moved in beside her and resumed the compressions as she moved her own hands aside.
“Keep up the CPR,” she repeated, as she climbed to her feet and began walking away from the victim, her partner, the cops and her responsibility. “Don’t stop,” she called back distractedly, “I’ve got to go see about something.”
“What the fuck?” Clark called out after her. “There’s not much sense if he’s already coded!”
“Just keep it up, I think I might be able to get some help,” she called, hoping to reassure him. She was quickly moving toward the figure she’d seen lurking behind the barricade. When the people surrounding him saw her, they quickly began whispering with each other again, but they quickly pulled back. The clean faced young man still avoided looking at her, but it was obvious he was clearly aware of her. She could literally feel his embarrassment at being caught in the fact, but she refused to allow his concern to cloud her own judgment. Even if this was her very last act, even if he was here for her, she had to do this.
“What are you—?” asked the portly policeman manning the barricade as she approached it, looking like he was approaching his own heart attack with no holds barred.
“Never mind,” she said, cutting him off dismissively with an idle wave of her hand, refusing to even look at him and take her eyes off of this lone solitary figure hiding amidst so many others. “I need help with the victim.” The cop looked at her strangely, but gave way as she moved around him.
Approaching near enough to get a clear look at this angel of death’s face, he reluctantly raised his head and finally looked her in the eyes. It hit Brooke like a sledge hammer to the face, one minute she was marching forward, the next she was reeling back, staggering, with her legs threatening to collapse under her.
“Hey, are you OK? What the hell did they do to you?” the nearby cop yelled, rushing to her assistance.
“Nothing,” Brooke called out, idly waving the man away, still trying to figure out just what had happened to her. There had been a brilliant burst of light, as if the young figure had suddenly burst into a massive ball of flame so bright she had trouble seeing anything else. She struggled to figure out exactly what had transpired. “He didn’t do a thing, at least nothing that didn’t need to be done,” she answered, intuitively knowing that whatever he’d done, it had been necessary. She could feel he wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. She tried to steady herself, veering as she tried to find her sense of balance again, the hand of the patrolman on her side not helping at all. As her eyes refocused, the bright glare still almost blinding her, she was shocked at what she saw all around her. Instead of the faces of people surrounding the supposed angel, she now saw the figure for what it was, a real, damn ANGEL, shimmering in a light which reflected all the power she’d been feeling emanating from him. She had to shield her eyes, his glow was so overpowering. She couldn’t even make out the figures around him he was so bright.
As she tried to protect her eyes, moving them to the side and away from his mighty glare, she suddenly noticed that everyone else also had a lesser glow about them all as well, except instead of being overpowering she could see they were all clothed in a whole array of new colors she’d never seen before.
“What the…?” she started to say before considering who she was speaking to and what their opinion on profanity might be, especially considering the role she had so recently assigned to the figure.
“It’s OK,” a young woman nearby assured her. “He strikes all of us that way.”
“What, what is it I’m seeing?” Brooke asked hesitantly. The figure before her suddenly moved forward, stepping confidently around the barricade. Whatever he’d been waiting for, apparently now was the time he’d been waiting for. Brooke was almost afraid of what else he may have in store, but again, she couldn’t afford the luxury of waiting for her future to be revealed to her. Whatever befell her, she had at least one last task she simply had to take care of.
“Hey, get the FUCK back behind the—” the cop behind her warned. Brooke held out her arm.
“No, I need him. He’s the one I came here for,” she informed him, her voice calm but her words unmistakably firm.
“Don’t panic, it’s nothing unearthly. What you’re seeing is people’s life force, essentially their souls,” the bright figure explained as he moved up beside her and grasped her side to steady her. “The colors you’re seeing are a reflection of their personalities; the varying colors around the edges are the various emotions that play on their personalities. It also shows their health,” he continued explaining. “The dark patches are unhealthy organs, anything lacking light is probably dead.”
“Oh,” she answered stupidly, considering his words which washed over her like his energy did with the force of a mighty wave. “Oh!” she responded a bit more responsively when the meaning of his words finally hit her. She grabbed his arm and spun around, pulling him behind her. “Then we’ve got to get back. Maybe you can help me save the man over there if it’s not already too late.”
The towering figure of light hesitated. “Uhh, I really—” he started to say, resisting her pull.
“Don’t listen to him,” one of the women that had been standing beside him told her. “He doesn’t realize his own power and doesn’t remember what he used to know. We’ve got to help him remember so he can—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Brooke cut her off. “I’ll listen to the rest later. Right now we’ve got someone to save.”
She considered the cop, the roll of fat around his waist looking a very unsightly color. “Let her through as well, and any of the others who feel they can contribute.” The officer started to protest but she was already past him, dragging the hesitant angel behind her.
Looking ahead, she saw the cluster of figures around the prone man. Clark continued to work on the figure but without enthusiasm, but all the officers surrounding him were busy watching her and not what he was doing.
“You can’t—” the officer nearest her started to argue.
“Yes I can, he’s going to help me save a life,” she told him assuredly as she reached her partner and the unconscious figure beneath him.
“I don’t think there’s much to be done,” Clark informed her, not turning to look at what she was doing, instead concentrating completely on the helpless figure he was still struggling to save. “I think this one is already gone.” She examined the body of the prone form with her newfound vision. It indeed didn’t look good, his whole body had gone quite dim, but she could still see a fair amount of the energy the angel had said produced the lights she saw. She knew she had to move quickly. She pulled him around the laboring form of her partner and sat him beside the man’s head.
“The problem when someone’s been down for this long is long term brain damage,” she quickly explained. “It won’t do any good to save him if there’s nothing left to save.” She examined the man’s head, making a quick evaluation.
“Look, I don’t know anything about—” the angel began protesting, sounding more like a little lost boy afraid of getting into trouble than the self-assured angel sweeping in to set things right that she’d originally expected. But she wasn’t going to let his nervousness hold them back.
“I know, your friend already told me,” she said in a no-nonsense tone of voice, letting him know that she’d brook no disagreement. “You don’t know what you already know. But you’re going to help me save this man’s life.”
“I don’t know anything about medicine,” he tried to weakly protest.
“You don’t have to, that’s what I’m here for,” she insisted. “That’s why you chose me.”
She gripped his hands and placed them strategically on the victim’s head. “OK, I want you to take all that energy you’re giving off and put some of it where I put your hands. Just put it where it’s needed.”
“Sorry, but I can’t see the visions like you can. I apparently trigger it in others, but I don’t have any of those abilities myself.”
Brooke sighed, man, dealing with angels was more difficult than she would have thought!
“Fine, just keep your fingers placed right about here,” she instructed, making doubly sure his fingers were placed appropriately. “Now give him a very slight but steady flow of energy. There’s a lot of delicate tissue in there and we don’t want to fry anything, so go VERY slowly.”
Alex was about to protest but already knew it would be futile. He remembered Anh’s words about knowing more than he was aware of and hoped it was true. Without having a clue what he was doing, he tried applying a very limited amount of energy but couldn’t feel anything.
“I don’t—” he began to argue when she interrupted him.
“That’s it, just the right amount. Now, WAIT! Don’t stop. Keep it going, nice and slow like you were doing. That’s right, that’s perfect. Keep it up.”
“Brooke, what the hell are all these people doing here and what the fuck are they doing to our patient?” Clark demanded sharply, as if only noticing them for the first time. He, like everyone else standing there, realized what involving a civilian could mean. The man’s relatives could then claim that by involving an untrained civilian that Brooke had compromised the man’s health, and that the city would be responsible for whatever damages a judge could be convinced they deserved.
“Yeah,” warned one of the nearby officers. Brooke seemed to remember his name was Paul Sinclair or something similar. “They shouldn’t be involved in—”
“Shut the FUCK up!” she shouted at the officer, shocking everyone around her. She quickly turned to the angel seated beside her. “Not you,” she cautioned, “keep doing what you’re doing. You’re doing good.” Turning back to the others she gave them her instructions. “You all have no idea what’s going on, so just shut your fucking traps. If ANYTHING is going to save this man, it’s going to be this young man here, so just let him do what he needs to.”
“Alex, just do what she says. You’re doing just what you need to,” gently instructed the black woman she’d spoken to earlier.
The angel Alex, Brooke reflected. Man, they just don’t name angels like they used to. At least it wasn’t Angel Bob, she told herself.
“OK,” she instructed him, turning to watch exactly how well he was progressing. “I think that may be good for now. I’ll let you know if he needs more in a minute. Keep up the energy with your left hand. Chances are his best chances of regaining functionality are to the areas on the left side of his brain. Now, when I count to three, Clark, you’re going to move aside and Alex, you’re going to put your hand over his chest where Clark is currently working and you’re going to give him a slightly stronger burst of energy. OK?
“Fine. 1… 2… 3!” she called out and everyone jumped into action.
“God, no!” she called, not even stopping to consider her unintended blasphemy. “Not that much. What, do you want to fry his whole damn heart?” she asked Alex as he stared at her dumbfounded. However, such looks were lost on her, since all she saw was a glowing visage of power and might that contrasted with the meek and confused young man she heard complaining. “Keep it gentle. Here, try it again,” she said, shifting his hand a bit.
Alex still had no idea what he was doing, and wasn’t even aware that he’d done a thing to the man. However, at her urging he tried to lessen whatever he’d just done, and suddenly there was a loud gasp and the recumbent figure under his hand lurched up, trying desperately to draw air into his lungs as he sat up. Everyone around him immediately jumped back except for Brooke.
“No, you’re not done,” she instructed Alex once again. “Put your hands back where I showed you and keep up the energy to his head. And use both hands, I’m sure you remember where I showed you,” she told the silly, easily spooked angel, moving his hands for him. He easily complied and held the man’s head as he continued trying to get his breath.
“Take it easy, sir, we’re paramedics and I think you’re going to be alright. You’ve been down for quite a while so it’ll take a bit to adjust,” she explained, as if this kind of thing happened to people all the time and being brain dead for fifteen or twenty minutes was just a normal state of affairs.
“Holy Crap!” muttered one of the cops.
“Shut up and get us the gurney from our truck,” Brooke told him. After getting over himself, he and Clark rushed to do her bidding.
“Now, Alex, is it? I think you can let him go, his color is returning and his pupils seem clear and responsive. I think he’s over the worst of it. We’ll see what damage has been done to all the components we couldn’t help with, but it looks like he’ll be OK.”
“What the hell did I do?” Alex asked, as unbelieving at the cop who’d just sworn a moment ago.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to say that?” she asked, laughing at the strange paradox. “Here I was sure you were going to fry me for saying everything I was saying.”
“I’m not an—”
“Not now, Alex,” cautioned the woman behind him. Suddenly someone started yammering in a foreign language and Brooke had to glance back and see just who was involved with them now. She noticed a collection of six women of various nationalities, ages and races. The one who’d spoken was apparently an older, graying Asian woman, who looked like she was lecturing the poor angel. When she glanced back, Brooke saw that he held his head down, apparently slightly embarrassed at whatever she’d just said to him. Just then the officer came running up with the collapsible gurney they kept in the ambulance.
“Alright, everyone back up, we need access,” Brooke said, snapping back into command mode. “OK, all of you angel watchers, we only have room for Alex and maybe one other on this trip.” She noticed Alex’s sudden panic in his shuffling hesitation. “Yes, you’re coming with me. This isn’t over until I’m sure this man is going to make it.”
“OK, on three,” she instructed the people who were familiar enough with the job to be in ready position. They lifted the still dazed man onto the gurney and they all moved to lift it and roll it back to the ambulance. Brooke didn’t have time to watch what the angel Alex was doing, but she heard someone behind her state, “OK, Anh’s going to go with him. The rest of you all move back.” Brooke was by then entering the ambulance, walking backwards guiding the gurney in behind her.
“Get your ass in here, Mr. Angel,” she commanded. He turned around and spoke to the other women who surrounded him.
“Don’t worry. Cate, call the parents. The rest of you, see if you can get Allison’s car and come pick me up, I’ll let you know where I am.”
“Tulane University Hospital,” Clark shouted out. “It’s the closest facility to here.” At least he isn’t fighting against Alex’s presence anymore, Brooke thought to herself.
“Get in quick, whoever’s going,” she called as she strapped the passenger in. She realized she hadn’t even gotten any information on their patient.
“Did you get any—?” she called into the front.
“Yeah, got it,” Clark answered as he swung into the driver’s seat. “One of the officers was nice enough to fill all the information in after you left me sitting over a dead body,” he complained. “Damn, I didn’t think there was any way he would ever recover!”
The fallen man attempted to say something then, but Brooke simply laid a hand against his chest. “Don’t try to talk,” she insisted, placing a mask over his face and turning on the air while strapping him in.
“Do you need a phone, Alex,” a young girl called as the brilliantly glowing angel started towards the awaiting ambulance bay.
“Nah, I’ll contact everyone in the usual way, it’s faster and more reliable,” he assured her. Just as he was taking a step up some woman burst out of the surrounding crowd and ran up to reverently touch his arm. He looked confused for a moment then glanced embarrassedly at Brooke.
“I’ve got lots of people fascinated with me,” he explained. “They don’t quite have the capacity for the whole vision thing you got, but….” he said, letting his voice trail off as if unsure just what their purpose was.
Brooke got up from the man’s bedside and stuck her head out the door to consider the woman who was staring up at Alex. She came to another snap decision that she just intuitively knew was right.
“Go forth,” she called. “Tell everyone what you’ve seen. This is a damn miracle if there ever was one. That man should be fuckin’ dead by now.” The woman looked up at her, as if just now seeing her, but then smiled knowingly and backed away.
“What was that about?” the angel Alex asked her. She couldn’t see his face, but the colors dancing around him shifted from one unbelievable hue to another, and she figured it must signify something, but she didn’t have time to ponder it.
“Never mind, just get your ass in here and let’s get going.” She figured if he could say hell then she could very well say anything as long as it wasn’t outright blasphemous. As she was helping him into the truck, the older Asian woman started to climb in as well, so Brooke just naturally helped her in also.
“Just grab on to anything you can,” she told them. “There’s not much in the way of seating in here. You can sit on the edge of the gurney if you need to,” she told the Asian woman. She started talking in a language Brooke couldn’t comprehend, but Alex cut her off.
“She doesn’t understand,” he stated patiently as if she’d understand him despite the language difficulty. Just then Brooke heard his voice in her head, despite the fact his lips never moved. ‘Ok, you should be able to hear her now. Go ahead.’ Brooke was about to ask him what he was talking about, not even getting to the point of asking how he had done whatever he had done, when the older woman started speaking in perfect English.
‘Thank you for taking charge,’ she said, Brooke only belatedly realizing she wasn’t actually speaking English but that she was hearing her as if she was. ‘In an emergency you’ve got to be willing to take charge because you never know who’s going to be capable of acting independently,’ she explained. ‘Although Alex is capable of a great many things, he doesn’t yet trust himself, and he needs our guidance.’ The Asian woman turned to Alex as Brooke returned to looking after the patient, feeling Clark pull back onto the street.
“So what is she, one of you disciples or something? I didn’t know angels had disciples.”
“I’m not an angel,” he protested, but without any real conviction.
‘Ignore him,’ the Asian woman told her, ‘he’s only partially aware of what he is and what he’s capable of. That’s what we’re all here for, to help him along on his journey.’ Brooke was confounded to realize that she could hear the woman speaking in a foreign language, but she intuitively knew what the woman way saying before the words were even out of her mouth.
Brooke considered the woman for a moment as she grabbed the paperwork from Clark and started reading it over. “And just where is this journey supposed to take him?” she asked.
The older woman sighed, “None of us know, he hasn’t revealed that to us yet.”
“Wait,” Brooke asked, once again confused by the things everyone was busy trying to tell her, “you’re telling me that he’s supposed to tell you what his mission is so that you can explain it to him?”
The woman smiled, her wrinkled eyes shining, ‘That’s about it. He doesn’t know much about himself yet. That’s what’s protected him as a child, not knowing what he was capable of. He’s only now coming into an awareness of himself.’
Brooke considered that as she quickly ran through the paperwork in front of her. That simple explanation, while hardly clear, explained a few things at least. Otherwise Brooke couldn’t figure out how someone could be unaware of what power he held or not know what to do with it. Still, there seemed to be hope for him if he’d collected these people to help him. Maybe the old woman actually knew what she was talking about.
“Man, I can’t believe the shit I’m hearing back there,” Clark called out from the front. “How the hell can you be speaking to her when you don’t understand Chinese?”
Brooke briefly glanced at the woman but Alex filled her in. “Vietnamese, and her name is Anh.”
“You hear that, you old lummox?” she called forward. “I don’t understand Chinese, but apparently I can converse pretty freely in Vietnamese with a little assistance.” Just then they hit a bump hard and everyone was thrown.
“God damn it, Clark, watch where the fuck you’re going! You’re likely to kill us all back here,” she shouted once she’d managed to recover herself, suddenly finding herself kneeling on the floor, the clipboard now beside the Vietnamese woman she now knew was named Anh. The woman bent over and picked it up, handing it to her.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Clark called back. “I’m in such a state of shock over everything that’s happening I’m having trouble watching what I’m doing.”
“Well get your ass in gear, we’ve still got a life to save here.” When she finally stopped shouting she considered all that she’d just said.
“Excuse me for the language, I’m not sure what’s allowed and what’s not but—” she began to apologize before Alex waved her concerns off.
“No offense taken. I know the occasion asks a lot of you. I expect you to handle it just like you normally would.” Anh smiled knowingly at him and seemed pleased at his words for some reason.
“OK, since I’m allowed to speak honestly, how the fuck can I understand her?” Brooke asked.
‘Simple, its telepathy. It’s another little ability I’ve somehow granted you,’ he explained.
“Holy shit!” Brooke swore.
“What’s going on?” Clark yelled from the front cab. “I want to know the answer as well and, if it isn’t any great difficulty for you, how the hell is the damn patient?”
“He seems OK, but I haven’t had a chance to talk with him yet,” Brooke explained, quickly checking him over once again, distracting herself from the bigger mystery occurring around her. “The Ang… Alex just informed me I can now communicate telepathically.” She shifted her gaze from the man’s vitals and saw he was looking around wildly, clearly more overwhelmed at what he was hearing than he was for his own health. She pulled the mask from his face.
“He WHAT?” bellowed Clark from the front.
‘Actually you can’t speak telepathically with anyone other than him,’ a mental voice she recognized as belonging to Anh replied to her.
“How can you be speaking to me, then?” she asked.
She spoke in heavily accented Vietnamese, but her meaning was perfectly clear. ‘Because we all communicate through him.’
“Oh,” Brooke replied dumbly. The gentleman on the gurney grumbled so she turned to consider him again.
“What … what’s going … what’s going on?” he asked.
“I have no fucking idea,” she stated. “But you had a massive heart attack. You were as good as dead for a long, long time, until this young man happened to revive you. I also got him to intervene in preventing you from suffering any obvious mental decay, but we won’t know for sure until we can examine you,” she explained patiently, expecting him to understand everything despite the traumas he’d recently experienced, both medically and being exposed to what was happening in the ambulance.
Brooke looked him in the eyes and moved her finger around in front of him. He tracked her movement well so she was encouraged. That plus he didn’t show any confusion over her previous sentence.
“Can you tell me who you are?” Brooke asked, her voice suddenly calm and soothing, as if someone had thrown a switch and flicked her personality from commanding and argumentative to helpful and caring.
“Steve, Steve … McCullough,” he answered with difficulty around a dry throat. She reached for some water so she could pour him a small cup.
“Here, drink this but drink it slowly,” she instructed, and he seemed perfectly capable of following the simple instructions.
“Can you tell me what day today is?” she asked him and he answered clearly and succinctly.
“I think he’s going to be fine after all of that,” she said, turning and addressing the glowing angelic form before her.
“Damn, that’s amazing!” Clark shouted back from the front cab. “How the hell did you all pull that off?”
“We’ll have to explain it later,” she told him. “I think I’ll have to figure it out before I can ever hope to explain any of it.”
“Well, we’re here if anyone’s interested,” he called back as they slowed and proceeded to make a few turns.
“Where … Where’s my daughter?” Steve asked. Brooke looked at him questioningly.
“Clark?” she called, her voice taking on a bit of an edge at the idea they’d forgotten an essential bit of information.
“Oh, sorry, something else you missed while you were out gallivanting,” he replied. “She had apparently gotten carried away, insisting the police do something so they had an officer take her aside and watch over her. After everything started getting crazy I didn’t think it wise to bring her back, in case she thought the events strange enough to warrant a … uh, a suit, if you know what I mean.”
“Even … Even I know what you mean,” Steve rasped at him, but doubted he’d been heard as Clark was busy pulling the ambulance into the bay.
As everyone started going through their motions, Alex nervously stated, “Look, it looks like he’s OK and there’s really not much I can do—”
“Nothin’ doing, buddy,” Brooke told him. “You’re a part of this, and until I clear you, you’re involved.”
‘I think he wants to avoid any more attention being focused on him,’ Anh diplomatically explained.
“Ah, yeah, I can see that. Still, I’d think the best way to avoid attention would be to stop radiating energy and glowing like a damn sunspot.” She shook her head and someone threw the doors open, so she climbed out and helped Clark pull the gurney out while she briefed the attendant on what they had.
Alex followed along nervously, several paces behind as they entered the emergency room, Anh striding along beside him like she owned the place, as Clark pushed the gurney and Brooke rattled off his various stats. Still, it didn’t look to the onlookers like the people she was informing had any medical expertise.
Looking up, Alex saw another of those vacant, fascinated stares looking back at him, and signaled the nurse it was attached to over to them. She took off like a shot, hurrying over to him.
“Yes, sir?” she asked, sounding like he was a visiting hospital administrator.
“We need this man looked after. He had a heart attack, apparently he wasn’t breathing for a very long time,” Alex informed her, taking control of the situation from those assigned the task. The hefty woman Brooke was giving the information to just stared at him. When she began to speak to him, Brooke reached out and restrained her.
“Yes, sir,” said the woman, a nurse with a nametag that stated her name was Rebecca Boles, seemingly happy to accept orders from someone off the street. She directed Clark to accompany her as she hurriedly shoved people aside and made room for the new arrival in a section by himself. Once again Alex hung back, but Brooke grabbed his arm as she passed and pressed him forward.
“OK, what stats do you have for me?” Rebecca asked, and she and Brooke started speaking rapidly together. As they were doing so the injured man, Steve, who’d just been transferred to one of the hospital beds, looked up at Alex. Seeing him, Alex reached over and held his hand. Pulling his mask off Steve addressed him.
“You really … really did all the stuff she said you did?” he asked him.
“Well…,” Alex hesitantly replied.
“He do,” Anh replied.
“Well, thank you then, for saving my life. And don’t worry about my idiot daughter trying to sue you. I managed to keep her in line when she was an insane teenager, and I can keep her in line even after a heart attack.” He tried to laugh but it broke into a cackling, coughing fit. Alex slapped him lightly on the back.
“Is it OK?” Rebecca asked the young man, requesting Alex’s permission before she even attempted helping her patient. Alex simply nodded his head and stepped away, and Rebecca proceeded to take care of Steve like he was the center of her life, for that moment at least. It was clear she was trying to impress Alex for some reason. Brooke figured she must be like she was, and was able to detect just what Alex was. Anh simply smiled at her.
‘She like woman outside ambulance,’ she stated. ‘She detect strength, but not ready for vision or other abilities. Cate has a good explanation,” she explained in halting and heavily accented English.
“Cate?” Brooke asked, confused and curious who she was referring to. She’d decided she wanted to learn as much about this young man and all those around him as well. She was especially interested in knowing who could explain what the hell was going on.
“Alex sister,” Anh explained, keeping her answers short so she could answer verbally so that Rebecca could listen in.
“Really?” Brooke asked in wonderment. “I didn’t feel anyone like Alex there.” Anh laughed gently.
‘She’s not like him,’ Anh answered, giving up on her haltering attempt to answer in English. ‘She’s normal but very, very smart. She keeps trying to explain how Alex does what he does, but the rest of us know it’s because he’s a mighty spirit who’s come to the mortal world to do great things.’
“Anh!” Alex stated warningly, despite the fact that no one else could hear their conversation.
‘He doesn’t like me to talk about his being anything other than a typical high school kid,’ she explained to Brooke.
“You said he was down and not breathing for HOW long?” Rebecca asked, looking at Brooke but continually sneaking sidelong glances at Alex.
“Nearly 36 minutes,” Clark stated. “His daughter stated he was responsive and coherent, but we couldn’t get any confirmation of that from anyone else, so we’re not real sure just how long he was like that.”
“But he seems fine. His heart sounds strong and he’s perfectly coherent,” she said, a bit unsure about what she was seeing.
“That’s all his doing,” Brooke stated simply, nodding at Alex while pointing to him.
“SHHH!” Alex hissed, looking like he wanted to melt into the wallpaper.
“Oh yeah, don’t put his name down on any paperwork, and don’t mention him to anyone in a position of authority,” Brooke stated calmly.
“Oh no, of course not,” Rebecca answered, as if it was the most natural request in the world and one she’d be remiss if she didn’t follow to the letter.
“Look, if we’re not needed anymore,” Alex said, starting to edge out of the room.
Brooke suddenly realized she was about to lose her chance to show this angel just how appreciative she was. Here, he took the time to save this guy, and then he did whatever he did to her. Hell, she was glad she wasn’t dead right now. Whatever else he had going for him, Brooke simply knew she wanted to be a part of it somehow. She knew it was important, knew it deep in her bones. She also knew she’d do whatever she could for this … for Alex. She knew that whatever it was he might need, she’d do it for him without hesitation. Not because he’d spared her life, not even for giving her this vision but simply because she could feel he was destined for great things and she wanted to help him achieve them. She simply knew that, from this moment on, this was the whole purpose of her life.
“Wait a minute,” Brooke told him before turning to Anh. “How can she reach him?” she asked, indicating Rebecca. Anh rattled off some Vietnamese and Brooke translated the hotel name and address as well as Cate’s phone number. Alex was shaking his head. Steve managed to sit partially up and give him a thumbs up, smiling at him as they all turned and headed out of the room.
“Look, I’m still on duty,” Brooke explained to Alex. “I’d love to hear all about these abilities and about you and everything, but I’ve still got a few lives to save. Can I come see you when I get off?” she asked.
“Yeah, me too, I’m anxious to hear all this crap you’re spouting,” Clark answered with a half-smile, letting them all know he wasn’t too serious. “Look, if you can perform another miracle and produce a legitimate driver’s license I’ll even buy you a beer,” he said, laughing.
“Careful,” Brooke cautioned him, “piss him off while he’s drunk and he’s likely to turn all your wine back into bloody water.” It was clear they’d been partners for a long time and they both shared the same sense of humor.
“Yeah, yeah, get the information from my interim social secretary,” Alex replied. “Now let me get the hell out of here before someone notices me and calls the cops.”
“An Unknown Attraction”, and the sequel, “Trying To Be Normal”, are available at:
smashwords.com.
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