The Cornelius Saga Boxed Set

by Tanya R. Taylor

  12

  _________________

  The community picnic continued although no one dared to venture back into the water – just in case. They had lots to talk about, considering the events which unfolded before their very eyes. They also knew those who were not present would have a difficult time believing that any of it was true, so the bond they already had as neighbors and friends was even stronger now.

  Sara, Mira and Rosie sat on the beach with Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, and Rosie explained to Mrs. Jameson why she had been pin-pointed among the crowd.

  “Oh dear!” She remarked in utter disbelief. “My ancestor was Josephine Gouthro, you say? I’ve never heard of her. And you mean to tell me that menacing girl in the water was her cousin – another relative of mine?”

  Rosie nodded. “While I was speaking to her, I think she started to feel a sense of family, like she was missing something, and she picked you out. Good thing you were here. I think seeing you gave her some peace for the first time since she was lured away by the dark man when she was only twelve. I guess she could relate to me because I'm almost the same age she was when it happened. Her father had walked out and her mother became an alcoholic, so she pretty much fended for herself. She didn't feel like anyone loved her and that’s how she got involved with the dark man.”

  “My, oh my, young lady!” Mr. Jameson exclaimed. “You are truly a natural.”

  “She surely is.” Mrs. Jameson smiled.

  Sara and Mira looked on adoringly.

  A short while later, the older couple got up to socialize with the others.

  “Thanks so much, honey.” Mira gently squeezed Rosie’s hand. “You saved everyone today. If you hadn’t taken the stand you did, most of us out here would’ve been buried in that ocean. You are so brave.”

  Sara was proudly holding her granddaughter closely.

  “I learned from the best, Mom. I’m learning to be more courageous because of you,” Rosie replied.

  Mira couldn’t begin to express how much those words meant to her.

  “Do you believe the others who went missing will ever come back?” Sara asked.

  Mira shook her head sadly. “No one who was taken before the artifact returned to the sea where it belongs, can come back. They’re gone.”

  “How do you know?” Rosie asked.

  “Take a look behind you.”

  Time seemed to stand still as Rosie did just that. She quickly turned around and faced Mira again, whispering: “Who is she, Mom?”

  “An old friend who told me all about it,” Mira said.

  Stefanie nodded stoically in the background. There was no color in her face and no blood in her veins.

  ~ THE END ~

  Death of an Angel

  Cornelius Saga Series - Book 7

  “You can run, but you can’t hide.”

  Sincerely,

  Death

  1

  _________________

  Early that February morning, the ground was still soaked from the heavy downpour of rain the night before. It had brought with it a cold front that was expected to last for at least a few more days.

  Wrapped in her favorite brown sweater which hung all the way down to her knees, and with her white coat tossed across her forearm, Mira quietly shut the front door behind her, then carefully headed over to her silver Nissan. The five-inch square heels she wore were not to be relied upon for staunch support on the wet pavement. She was certain that neither Sara, nor Rosie - both still fast asleep - could lift her up off that carport if she had taken a good slide.

  Fiddling with the keys, she finally inserted the correct one into the handle, quickly opened the door and hopped inside. Sylvia, from work, was still out with the Flu so Mira was left with the responsibility of opening and preparing the clinic for the day’s flow of patients, just as she had done for the past four days.

  The dashboard clock just switched to 6:10 and she released a heavy sigh while staring back at herself through the rear-view mirror. Her brain screamed for a hot cup of black coffee and the temptation to stop and make one before she left home was overpowered by the silent ticking of the clock that seemed to be moving at a faster pace than usual. Nope. That coffee would have to wait until she got to work. Arching her eyebrows, she turned the key and started the ignition, simultaneously hoping the day would end up much more gratifying than it began.

  In less than five minutes, she had turned left on to Well Stevens Drive, now heading north. Well Stevens was a thoroughfare carved right out of a hill adjacent to the main road of Opulom which was met northbound at a four-way intersection. As traffic slowed to a crawl, Mira sat at the foot of the hill while looking ahead at the dozens of vehicles in front of her. A massive edifice of at least six storeys high was being constructed farther up to her left. Rumor had it that it was going to be an entertainment center; a seemingly bizarre venture for such a small town. Definitely, the first of its kind. The owner, Rudy Tratton, was the wealthy snot-nosed son of a senator. His jaw-dropping property was filled with at least a hundred construction workers equipped with hard hats and boots; some operating huge trucks, excavators and cranes. Tratton’s place was at the very end of the thoroughfare and sat atop a formidable rock wall about seventy-feet high—give or take. The surface had been cut and smoothed two years earlier for the ongoing project.

  “What’s going on here?” Mira sucked her teeth. “Traffic this early is unheard of on this road!” It took another couple of minutes before she was sitting parallel to the huge edifice. That same orange excavator was there again trenching near the edge and the same chilling feeling Mira got whenever she passed and saw it, re-emerged. Whatever it was attempting to accomplish up there had been in progress now for nearly a week. Unsettling thoughts flooded Mira’s mind and flashes of horror invaded her sixth sense to the point she couldn’t wait to get to the other end of the hill where she’d be well on her way. She had seen the catastrophic possibility in her mind’s eye every day that week and there was no shaking it.

  “Hurry up, people!” She barked. “You’d think we’re all in a funeral procession to the cemetery just ahead!”

  Grandview cemetery was directly opposite the construction site and adjacent to the roundabout. It was where her father, Michael, had been laid to rest years earlier. At first, passing it every morning on her way to work and again on the way home was terribly difficult for her, bringing her to tears each time. However, as time went on and visits there were many, it got a bit easier. She had finally come to grips that he was in a better place and indeed their guardian angel.

  Suddenly, she saw the tumbling of pebbles and huge blankets of dust which landed as forcefully as gravity would allow on the hood of her car. Then without any warning as to what precipitated it all, everything abruptly faded to black.

  2

  _________________

  Rosie’s hand had slid away from her grandfather’s just before he walked through those beautiful, golden gates. Whenever she dreamed of him, that’s how the dream usually ended, except, this time, he didn’t say goodbye. She was jolted from her sleep by a strange sensation that something was amiss. Not knowing why and not really concerned, she got up and proceeded into the hallway, passing her grandmother’s room that was deathly quiet that time of the morning. Which, in itself, was odd since usually by now, Sara would be up cooking breakfast and brewing coffee.

  Rosie went over to the refrigerator and poured out a cup of water. When she returned to the doorway of her bedroom, she came upon a female figure standing at the window. She was, apparently, looking outside.

  “Mom...” Rosie uttered, softly. “You’re going to work now?” She had no idea that her mother had already left for work.

  Mira turned and faced her daughter. That’s when Rosie saw the huge spots of blood that had sank into the fiber of her attire from the area of the chest straight down to her legs. And what was even more startling was her disfigured face – her forehead swollen to the size of a football; an obviously bro
ken nose as it didn’t seem to be at all in the right place; and her head shifted limply to the side as if her neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Mira said nothing, but only gazed out of the one eye that was not buried beneath the swollen flesh. Although barely recognizable, Rosie knew it was her mother. Frightened and confused, she screamed for her grandmother.

  “Mom!” Rosie’s eyes were fixated on Mira, but her legs felt heavy. “What happened to you?”

  Mira was oddly silent as Rosie forced her legs to move and hurried as quickly as she could over to her. When Rosie went to embrace her, her hands went straight through her and although she could still see Mira, she realized she wasn’t really there – at least not in the flesh. “Oh no! Oh no!” She shook her head vehemently. “Mom...”

  As Sara rushed into the bedroom, Rosie watched the image of her mother disintegrate into thin air.

  “What’s the matter, honey!” Sara exclaimed.

  Rosie flew into her arms. “It’s Mom!” she cried.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Something happened to her, Nana.” The child was now in tears.

  Sara headed to Mira’s room, then went throughout the house calling out to her. She soon discovered her car was gone, and knew she had left for work.

  “What are saying, dear?” Sara pressed, while standing near the front door. “Why do you think something happened to your mom?”

  “I saw her right before you came to my room. She’s hurt really bad.”

  Sara’s heart sank. She could see the candor in Rosie’s eyes, and a sickening feeling suddenly overwhelmed her - similar to what she’d felt when Michael passed away.

  Immediately, she picked up the phone and dialed Mira’s mobile. It felt like hours had passed in the mere seconds she held the handset to her ear, awaiting an answer. The feeling of dread quickly intensifying, she hung up and dialed the number to the clinic. There was no answer there either.

  “Get dressed now!” she told Rosie, before dashing into her room to do the same.

  * * * *

  Sara’s heart pounded relentlessly as they headed up the street. She intended to take the same route Mira always took for work and hoped with everything inside, that they would meet her at the clinic, safe and sound – and that for the first time, Rosie would be mistaken. As she drove, only the worst thoughts crowded her mind. Her hands shook so badly that she could barely manage to keep them on the steering wheel. The way Rosie had described seeing her mother terrified Sara beyond words. She was convinced the girl had been dreaming, but even so, her account was enough for her to take action.

  As a practicing nurse of more than forty years, she’d seen people enter the Emergency Room in the most horrendous physical condition one could ever imagine, and in that precise moment in time, the worst cases she’d ever seen in her career all flashed before her. She dreaded to think that her precious Mira could now be one of those people; never mind what it took for the doctors to try and save them, many of whom never made it out of those four walls alive. And that was the most frightening possibility for Sara.

  Turning left on to Well Stevens, they instantly spotted dozens of flashing red and blue lights. Police cars, ambulances and many unidentified vehicles were all straight ahead. The entire road from the bottom of the hill onwards was sectioned off with yellow barricade tape.

  “My God!” Sara’s hand flew up to her face. “Please, don’t let it be Mira!”

  Terror filled Rosie’s eyes as she knew her grandmother’s hope could not be realized. “Mom!” she cried hysterically.

  Sara pulled to the side of the road as she could not get access to drive up any further. She slammed the brakes and yelled, “Let’s go!”

  Dressed in a long, beige pullover and black slacks, she took Rosie’s hand and they ran as quickly as they could toward the awful scene. That’s when they saw the orange excavator that had toppled over the cliff onto the middle of the thoroughfare. It was on its side, partly crushing two cars beneath it. A couple of other vehicles nearby had obvious damage as well. Sara and Rosie immediately recognized the silver Nissan, the hood of which was practically invisible beneath the giant machine. The only part of the car that was recognizable was the area from the rear-view mirror backwards and it seemed slightly elevated from the ground. Sara released a blood-curdling scream as her eyes widened with shock and her heart pounded even more violently.

  “It’s her!” Rosie exclaimed, making a hopeless glance at Sara. “Mom’s dead, Nana!”

  “No way!” Sara refused to believe it. “There’s no way!” Tears could no longer be restrained even for the sake of her grandchild. “Michael’s gone, but I’m not losing my child too!”

  She rushed past a couple of officers at the scene when a clean-shaven, black detective stopped her a few yards up.

  “Ma’am, I can’t let y’all go any further,” he said.

  “But that’s my daughter’s car! I need to get to her!” Sara demanded.

  Up close, she and Rosie could see the extent of the damage that had been inflicted by the fallen machine. Mira’s car had been destroyed, but the car on the right of hers was completely buried beneath the weight of the machine. Pools of blood were in the road and clumps of flesh had splattered across the pavement. Sara had a sinking feeling that someone or several people did not survive and she prayed that Mira wasn’t one of them.

  “No one’s in that vehicle, Ma’am,” the detective said. “The driver has just been transported to the hospital.”

  “The hospital? Are you sure?” Sara asked. She realized he did say “hospital” and not the morgue.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Is she…”

  “Ma’am, I suggest you just go on to the hospital.”

  Sara led Rosie away and the detective watched as they hurried back to their car. He knew he couldn’t bring himself to say to that poor mother more than he did. That woman they pulled out of the crumpled Nissan was a sight he wished he’d never seen.

  “She’s dead, isn’t she?” Rosie probed. Her little heart felt the weight of the world as she could not imagine an existence without her mother. The very thought of that possibility was a pain too great for her to bear.

  “I… I don’t think so,” Sara’s voice was breaking. “Let’s just go to the hospital; it may not be as bad as we think. Maybe your mom’s sitting up, waiting for us to come and get her.

  Before pulling off, Sara glanced again at the bloody mangled mess straight ahead, then her eyes veered farther off to the right in the direction of Grandview Cemetery where her beloved husband was laid to rest. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what Michael was thinking, seeing his only daughter hurt.

  3

  _________________

  “How is she?” Maggie Knox inquired at the Nurses’ Station.

  “They brought your friend in a half hour ago.” Gloria Eathers said quietly. The women had both graduated from Northshore University decades earlier and had never lost touch. “I must say, it doesn’t look good. They wheeled her right into surgery.”

  “My goodness!” Maggie felt weak. She could feel her knees buckling and held on to the counter for support.

  “Are you gonna stay a while?”

  “Yeah. Doctor Barns is on his way over. He almost crashed his car when he heard the news. Said he ran straight past a stoplight into a busy intersection.”

  “Oh my!”

  “There could’ve been two serious accidents we would’ve had to contend with today.”

  “Well, thankfully, that’s not the case,” Gloria replied, “And I’m praying that your friend pulls through.”

  “She’s really that bad, huh?”

  Gloria sighed. “I’m afraid so. That piece of heavy machinery literally fell on top of her car and she sustained some very serious injuries to her body, including her head. Her legs were damaged pretty badly beneath the weight of it and I don’t know what else might’ve been broken. She’s just in bad shape, hon. We’ll know m
ore after she gets out of surgery.”

  Maggie’s eyes were brimming with tears as Gloria brought her up to speed.

  “Why don’t you go and have a seat over there ‘til Doctor Barns gets here?” Gloria could tell that Maggie was having a difficult time handling the news. “Can I get you some water?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.” Maggie wiped the tears that had streamed down her cheeks and tried to compose herself. “I’ll just wait over there like you said. Thanks for letting me know she’s here, Gloria.”

  Seeing someone so devoted to a friend was something Gloria admired, after not having the benefit of what she deemed a “true friendship” in her fifty-nine years of existence. Every so often the thought of countless betrayals by those she once trusted would cross her mind and silently nudge her that her decision to trust only in God was a wise one. Pastor Clem’s sermons always seemed to convey a different message of allowing vulnerability in the face of past betrayal, and highlighted the “forgive and let go” campaign that seemed to be a common angle for most preachers these days.