by Dale Mayer
Rowan turned and sucked all that confused, depressed, negative energy out of his office and out the door with the young man. Not to attach back to where it had come from but to separate to join the wind and to blow where it needed to go. Something he had to do often but had forgotten about recently.
Until Pelchi walked in, and Rowan got slammed with nasty, negative energy. So much anger and pain and guilt had been in that young man. But now, with Rowan having pulled most of that darkness from Pelchi’s soul, Pelchi should be better.
Finally, with that done, he turned to see Anna watching him. He shrugged and said, “You know what I had to do.”
“I do,” she said with a half smile. “I just haven’t seen you do it lately.” She glanced at Pelchi’s retreating back. “Is he okay?”
“He will be,” Rowan said. “He’s had a rough few months.”
She nodded sympathetically and returned to her work. He headed back to his desk, picked up the phone and made calls about Phoenix’s father. He had a lot of questions now. If only he could get some answers.
*
Interesting that Pelchi looked so much better now than when he went into the police station. Was Rowan doing energy work to help out the village? He was talented. He was powerful, but his power was wasted on the wrong things. Sitting here this past hour, drinking his coffee, the Supplier slowly watched the world go by, wondering what his next step was. Everything he’d seen so far showed him how Phoenix as the sacrifice had been the perfect choice.
But, at the same time, he didn’t understand why Rowan was hanging around Phoenix. The Supplier didn’t like unexpected surprises, and he hadn’t liked to see them over there at Theo’s when he’d barely had a chance to finish his work. Theo had deserved to suffer longer. And then later that evening at the Burning Fires? … That was a sacred place. To see her there was disturbing. And forced a change in his schedule. Something else he hated. He’d gotten greedy and had taken two for himself. That would never do.
The Elders came first.
The sacrifices were for the Elders. The victims were to keep the Supplier’s own soul moving forward so he could keep up his work for the Elders.
He’d been one of the Chosen Ones, and something about Phoenix let him know she was as well. But had somebody else chosen her before him? The supplier could see some of the energy around her. It was how he determined which were his best victims and his best sacrifices. He could see the confusion and the pain, but he also saw the goodness and the light.
Striving to overcome and succeeding was pure gold.
The Supplier could appreciate that. The Elders would appreciate that. To have chosen somebody who had been beaten and had struggled and had risen over all their conflicts and strife was a much better sacrifice than an eighteen-year-old who had never faced a challenge in his life.
No, this woman was definitely his chosen sacrifice, but there was something else about her. Something he just couldn’t put his finger on. The Supplier watched as the young man kept on walking away from the police station. Something was wrong about his walk too. As if a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders, he walked with a little more pep to his step.
The Supplier turned his gaze to the police station and frowned. He easily saw the negative energy flying out of the building, like somebody inside that station had helped this young man. Everybody was out to help people here. The Supplier was getting sick of it. How did he get people to stop being so nice and kind? What the hell was with that? The world was built on pain. How was it that nobody else could figure that out?
The Supplier had to study, understand his sacrifices to make sure they were worthy. Something he had yet to do with this young woman. She’d kept him at bay and he didn’t like that. She was either very powerful with strong instincts … or maybe someone was helping her.
He needed to know more. Maybe he’d run a quick check at the police station and see who was inside.
Chapter 17
When Phoenix woke again, she felt much better. The doctor and a nurse came in, and, after a complete exam, Phoenix was helped to her feet. She walked around slowly and nodded and smiled. The medical team spoke in a mix of English with their native tongue, but most of it was in English.
“So may I go to the washroom now?”
The nurse helped her to the small room, and Phoenix went inside, closed the door, proceeded to use the facilities, then washed her hands. She sucked in her breath and winced when she tried to lift her sore arm.
When she opened the door, the doctor assessed her once more and nodded. “You’re looking just fine,” he said matter-of-factly. “Healing very well.”
She beamed up at him. “I’ve always been a fast healer,” she said in a glib tone.
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
She was grateful he hadn’t brought up the X-rays. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her childhood. That she’d survived a nightmare was obvious. As she made her way back to the bed, she sat down with a groan and said, “I might be feeling better, but my shoulder is still sore.”
“We’ll put it in a sling,” he said. “And we’re keeping you here a bit longer, but there is a good chance you can leave later this afternoon. It will depend on how the rest of the afternoon goes.”
She stared at him in surprise. “Really? That would be awesome.”
“Maybe,” he said. “I’m not promising it yet. We’ll check on you in a few hours.”
She smiled, sank back against the pillows and said, “Thank you. That would be great.”
“As long as you aren’t staying alone,” he said. “I can’t have you reinjuring your arm.”
“Right,” she said. “I was supposed to leave this morning on the bus. So I’m not sure where I’ll stay.”
“Let me talk to Rowan,” the doctor said. “You rest now and keep healing.”
A nurse came over and put her shoulder in a sling. The pain eased. Soon after the medical team left, Phoenix was served a hot lunch. She smiled in delight when she saw the food. “I am hungry,” she said.
“We have orders to give you two dinners,” the woman said with a frown.
As a quick explanation, Phoenix said, “I have somebody coming today.”
The woman’s face cleared. “Okay, good.” She left a small tray with an extra serving.
Phoenix wasted no time. She had soup, a hot sandwich and steamed veggies. She worked her way through the first plate, set the dessert off to the side, poured milk in her tea and drank it. Then she switched out the empty plate for the second one. It was almost identical, and she had no problem polishing that off. With both plates empty now, and the desserts sitting waiting, she sank back on the bed with her tea and relaxed.
The extreme appetite was part of her healing process. She remembered in the past she always used to recycle everything in her mind to help her too—reframing, they called it. She called it trying to make lemonade from lemons. She could further heal herself by doing visualizations; she could heal others as well, by pouring energy out of various parts of her body. But to heal herself or others required energy. A lot of energy. Food was a weak source of energy but was less invasive than others, like taking energy from the people around her. It was the only way she’d survived the tortures of her childhood.
At one point, she had thought about killing herself. Well, if truth be told, she thought about it a lot. The memories were faint, just drifted in and out of her mind as she lay here.
Being only eleven years old had left her with just enough memory to get everything wrong. She hadn’t been mature enough to understand that she’d always been so tormented and so in pain that everything was colored by these earliest of experiences for her.
She wanted to think the shooting was accidental, but she had no real way to justify that. She felt a presence and looked up to see Rowan in the doorway, holding her laptop. She gave him a bright smile. “I ate your lunch,” she said, pointing at the tray with the two empty plates.
He laug
hed when he saw that. “Good,” he said. “I told one of the nurses that I’d be here at lunchtime and to give you double. I knew you would be really hungry after being hurt.”
“That was nice of you,” she said, not sure what to make of his final remark.
“The food here is good,” he said. He looked at her critically. “You’re looking much better.”
“There’s a chance I can leave later today,” she said. “I’m up. I’m mobile. Obviously I have to stay in town longer in order to heal, so no going home yet.”
“And you’re not allowed to be alone, I’m sure,” he said shrewdly.
“No, the doctor made a point of saying that,” she said honestly. “But, outside of the hotel, I have no other place to go.”
“Unless I bring you home with me,” he said. He put his hands on his hips and studied her. “But I don’t know how much trouble you’ll be.”
“And why would I be trouble?” she challenged.
“Because you have been so far,” he said with a laugh.
She wanted to shrug but knew it would hurt. She looked at him and her laptop and smiled. “Good,” she said. “I wanted to research my family. Something I’ve avoided doing all my life.”
“That might help,” he said, placing the laptop on her thighs. “I requested more information on the cult files. They’re being faxed over to me. As far as the original investigators are concerned, there were seven women, all dead, and your father died as well.”
“Okay, well, that would put that to rest,” she said. “What about all the kids?”
“Twelve children were found dead. You were the only one alive.”
She stared at him. “Seriously?”
“You expected some to be alive, didn’t you?” he asked curiously and sat down in the visitor chair. “According to the report, four of the twelve found dead were male.”
“I don’t remember those four,” she said bluntly. “But I do remember there being about a dozen of us.”
“Would you have known though, if they were dressed like girls with long hair?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe not? I don’t know. But it is sad if all of them are dead. That means my entire family is gone, which I’d assumed, but it seems more real now.”
“Yes, and maybe that’s okay too,” he said. “This gives you a chance to start fresh.”
“True,” she said, but it worried away at her. “The day I was found, I could hear children crying.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning forward. “You have to consider all the nightmares and the times you heard children crying mixed up and blended into that night you were released from the compound.”
“Father was shouting out orders, and I know all the mothers were rushing to grab up everybody.”
“Your mother took you into the closet, didn’t she?”
At that, Phoenix gave a bitter laugh. “She tried, but I saw the poison in her hand, and she told me it was time to leave. I knew what she was doing.”
“Did she explicitly say she would kill you?”
“Of course not,” she said. “But then my mother did nothing but follow my father’s instructions.”
“Right,” Rowan said. “So chances are, all the women did die, and you have no way to get those answers.”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I don’t have any reason or any proof, but it does seem to me somebody survived.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I heard somebody calling out,” she said, puzzled. “It’s like I can hear them yelling at me.”
“What are they yelling?”
“You are not alone,” she said, a questioning tone in her voice. Then she shook her head. “I really don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
“That could have been anything,” he said. “It could have been a cop telling you to fight whatever injuries you had. I don’t know if you remember, but you were hospitalized. You were extremely malnourished. You had several broken bones, open wounds, welts all over your body …”
She stared at him, her eyes glazing over, going back in time. “I do remember some of it,” she said. “I’d just had a major argument with my mother. Refusing to go into the closet. Fighting for my life. And she was telling me that I was almost dead anyway. I wouldn’t last much longer, and this was the easiest way.”
“I think she was correct in many ways,” he said. “But the truth of the matter is, you are alive. You did survive. And whatever help you had since then, that helped you to deal with your trauma.”
“I was dealing with the trauma while I was being traumatized,” she said gently. “I kept doing things, energy-wise, to stave off the pain, to stave off the physical damage. I don’t know where or how I learned of it. But it seemed to help, so I kept doing it more and more.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, straightening up. “You mean, like, using energy to heal?”
“Your own doctor just said I’m healing remarkably fast,” she said with a crooked grin. “I could hear a voice in my head telling me what to do. As if I knew it instinctively but had forgotten and needed the nudge to remember.”
“A voice in your head?”
“Sometimes a male angelic voice and other times a woman. Sometimes when I was screaming with agony, and other times when I was lying comatose. Often I’d call out to them, so I’d know I wasn’t alone. Voices kept telling me it would be okay. Only it was never okay.”
Rowan leaned forward. “I’m sorry. Your childhood must have been a living hell.”
“It was.” She gave him a wry look. “Like my father used to tell me. Doesn’t matter what we do to you, you’ll always heal. You will always heal faster than normal.”
“Maybe that was part of his fear and loathing of what he didn’t understand about you.”
“Yes, and yet he would call it love. His twisted version of love.”
*
Rowan didn’t know how to tell her that a bunch of other inconsistencies were in the cult report that were bothersome. Not only had there been four male children found dressed up as females but also signs that another adult male had been around the compound. Just a few little things that the police couldn’t reconcile. As in two shavers in two different bathrooms, both different styles with different shaving creams. No clothing was in one bedroom, whereas the bedroom where her father had slept with his massive king bed—big enough for however many sleeping partners he wanted to have—a lot of clothing had been found. Also a stockpile of arsenic and other poisonous liquids. All guaranteed to take out his entire clan. And yet, Rowan still couldn’t get behind why there had been so much torture of this one child.
And then there was the fire, … something she didn’t seem to remember.
It was one thing to have a case with no closure, but it was another to have a case with closure and a ton of unanswered questions. Had somebody else been involved in this? Had somebody else gotten off scot-free all these years? It was just a little too possible, and that bothered Rowan.
He glanced at Phoenix. She was now sitting up and looking around, getting a sense of time as she went vertical again. The doctor had released her, and Rowan would take her home to his place.
He smiled and said, “It’s pretty warm outside. I’ve got your dirty clothes here. Do you want your sweater though?”
She looked at him, frowning at the bag he carried, and said, “It’s likely covered in blood, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yes, I imagine it is.”
She carefully slipped to her feet and straightened up. When she managed to take a couple steps, she turned to give him a brilliant smile. “See? I’m as good as gold.”
He shook his head. “Not quite,” he said. “I have footwear for you, if you want to get them on.”
She looked at her shoes, sitting on the floor and said, “Tying those things doesn’t look like fun.”
He dropped the bag beside him and bent down, rearranged the tongue, stretching out laces so they stayed tied bu
t open. He lifted one up. “See if you can put your foot in that.”
She slid her right foot in and then took a few experimental steps. “That’s perfect,” she said in surprise. “I’ve never worn them like this.”
“As a kid I wouldn’t wear them any other way,” he said with a chuckle. “Anything to save me the work of tying them up.” He fixed the left shoe accordingly and held it out for her so she could step right into it.
With both shoes on, she took several more steps and said, “I feel almost as good as new.”
“Except for the bandage and the sling on your shoulder,” he said in a dry tone. “Are you hungry?”
She brightened up. “Absolutely,” she said. “Do you have food at home? Or can we pick up something and take it home?” And then she thought about it for a moment. “Depending on how far away you live, maybe we should eat in town.”
He laughed. “I don’t live far away at all,” he said. “And I have food at home already.”
“Good,” she said and walked to the door. “Then let’s get out of here.”
He waved at one of the nurses in the hallway and escorted Phoenix out of the hospital. Outside, she took several long, deep cleansing breaths of fresh air.
Rowan smiled. “I guess you don’t like hospitals much.”
“Hardly been in any,” she said cheerfully. “At least not that I remember.”
“Right.” He remembered the X-rays he’d taken photos of. “Rough childhood. You must have hated the other kids.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Hate is probably too strong a word. I was more concerned with healing and staying alive than expending the energy to focus on anything else.”
“You did say you used energy to heal.”
She nodded. “I know it was something I read. One of the books my father had. I snuck in there one day and found a book on energy healing. I figured if he had the book, it must be true,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “What a fool.”
“Not if it helped.”
“Good point, and it did, as did my virtual friends,” she said and turned to look at him. “What way? Which vehicle?”