REMEMBER JAMIE BAKER

by Kelly Oram

  Ryan folded his arms across his chest and gave me a look that suggested he meant business. “You kissed me back. A lot. I figured that was a yes.”

  Willing myself not to blush, I matched his stance. “Well, it wasn’t.”

  “So was too.” He looked at all the people with cameras and gave them a confident nod. “We’re totally a couple.”

  They all laughed.

  I fried the traffic light.

  Traffic came to a stop when the lights blew out, and I took advantage, stomping across the street without waiting for my self-proclaimed boyfriend or his new fan club. Their laughter followed me all the way to the main entrance of the hospital.

  “Take a breath, Angel,” Johnny G muttered, having fallen into step next to me when I’d left Ryan behind. “You don’t want to fry the power in a hospital.”

  I sobered immediately. Johnny G was right. There were a million things that could go wrong if I lost control here. I did not want to short out any machines that happened to be keeping people alive. “Thanks.” I let out a breath. “Has he been that annoying the entire time?”

  Smut, who was glued to my other side, laughed. “Worse.”

  I sighed.

  “Have to admire his tenacity, though,” Johnny G said as we rounded a corner, passing the reception desk without stopping. Apparently he already knew where we were going. “He’s been relentless since the moment we met him.”

  “I thought he was crazy,” Smut admitted. “After hearing Carter’s story and seeing the crater you left in Nevada…” Smut whistled and shook his head. “Everyone thought you were dead, but he refused to accept that. We were looking for Donovan. He was looking for you. And, ultimately, he’s the one who found you. Ryan was the one who thought of talking to Edwards and got him to give up the names of Donovan’s possible partners. We wouldn’t have found you without him.”

  Johnny G nudged me with his elbow. “He’s a good guy, Angel, and he’s crazy about you. You should give him a chance.”

  Becky’s teasing voice rang out behind me. “Oh, she will. Ryan has a gift for getting his way.”

  When we all glanced back, Becky and Ryan were walking right behind us. Ryan winked at me, obviously having heard most, if not all, of our conversation.

  We turned another corner and I stumbled to a stop. In front of us was an ominous-looking pair of doors that needed a badge to get through. Even though I knew the doctors probably wouldn’t be able to help me, that today was all just a ruse to draw out Donovan, I still felt as if my fate waited on the other side of those doors.

  A soft gasp drew my attention to a small waiting area on my left. I recognized the couple that’d risen to their feet and were holding each other as if they were both at risk of collapsing from photos Ryan had shown me. The other ACEs were waiting with them and gave me smiles, but I couldn’t look away from my parents.

  “Jamie,” the woman—my mom—croaked. She held out her hands to me but I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place, my legs unwilling to cooperate. I couldn’t breathe, either. Time seemed to stop as we studied each other from across the small area.

  My father was a giant—a tall man with huge, broad shoulders; scruffy gray hair; deep blue eyes; and a neatly trimmed beard. My mother was a tall, thin blonde-haired blue-eyed wisp of a woman. She looked delicate, an older version of the beauty queen Ryan told me she had once been.

  I was a good mix of the two of them. I was tall and thin, like my mother, but not at all wispy. Though I had an excellent figure, I was still sturdy, like my father—toned and athletic. Looks wise, I’d say I resembled my father more, but judging from the tears streaming down my mother’s face and her quiet sobs, I was still my mother’s daughter.

  Ryan grabbed my hand, breaking the stillness that had settled over the entire group. It was brave of him. I was upset enough I could have hurt him. But it was as if my power was more aware of him than I was, as if I subconsciously needed him and my power knew that and would never hurt him. Maybe he understood that, too. He gave my hand a squeeze. “Come on, Jamie. I’ll introduce you.”

  “Jamie,” my dad whispered. “It’s really you.”

  When I heard the emotion in his voice, I finally realized there were tears pooled in his eyes as well. I swallowed a lump of emotion and willed my voice not to shake. “I guess so. That’s what everyone keeps telling me, anyway.”

  My father’s eyes finally spilled over, and my mother’s sobs stopped being quiet. As I watched my father pull my mom into his arms, comforting her, I wrapped my arms around myself. The woman was heartbroken because I couldn’t remember her.

  A soft hand fell to my back, and then Ryan said, “Jamie, this is Linda and Stan Baker. You knew them better as Mom and Dad.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I held my hand out. My mom ignored it and threw her arms around me, crushing me in a fierce, desperate hug. She was a good deal stronger than she looked. “Oh, sweetheart!” she cried. “You’re alive. I can’t believe you’re alive. We’ve missed you so much.”

  My father stepped forward and wrapped his giant arms around the both of us, squeezing as if he planned to never let either of us go ever again. He said nothing, and I suspected that was because he couldn’t. His whole body was shaking as he held me. Finally, trapped in this group hug, I realized that whether I remembered them or not, these were my parents. The joy they felt at having me back in any condition was undeniable. Their love for me was unconditional, and it broke my hardened heart. Cracked it wide open. “Mom. Dad.” I unleashed a flood of tears that rivaled my mother’s. “I’m sorry I can’t remember.”

  “Don’t be sorry, baby girl,” my dad whispered, voice thick. “We don’t care. We’re just glad you’re safe.”

  “We love you, Jamie,” Mom said. She pulled herself out of the hug and wiped her eyes. “We’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this, too.”

  When my mom let me go, my father pulled me even tighter, squeezing me in a bear hug that would have probably hurt a normal person. But I wasn’t normal, and this man knew that. He didn’t care how hard he squeezed me. Oddly enough, the fact that he wasn’t gentle comforted me.

  Resting my head on his shoulder, I squeezed him back—though I had to be careful not to hurt him—and breathed in deeply, memorizing his scent. My mother started sobbing again, and I turned just in time to see her drown Ryan in motherly affection. She was squeezing him just as hard as she’d clung to me, and though she was whispering quietly, I had no problem hearing her weepy expressions of gratitude. “You promised me you’d find her, and you did. You brought my daughter back to me.”

  “Of course I did,” Ryan whispered back. “I couldn’t live without her any more than you could.”

  “I know, sweetheart, I know.”

  The soft way they spoke to one another made me feel guilty for eavesdropping on their private moment, but I couldn’t pull myself away from the conversation. My mother clearly loved Ryan. Though, I wasn’t the least bit surprised by that. Who didn’t love Ryan Miller?

  “And don’t worry about her memories,” my mom said, once again regaining control of her emotions. “We’re not going to let her forget you. You’re a part of her as much as we are.”

  For once Ryan didn’t joke. He didn’t even crack a smile. His face was as serious as I’d ever seen it when he replied, “I’m not worried about that, Linda. I didn’t find her just to lose her.”

  My mom gave Ryan a watery smile and then kissed his cheek and hugged him again.

  My father squeezed me, snapping my attention back to him, and he smiled down at me with a teasing glint in his eyes. “I bet he’s been a little overwhelming, huh?”

  Surprised, I snorted a laugh. “Just a bit.” But then I watched him hug my mom again and I sighed. “Believe it or not, I think he has tried to restrain himself. But he’s not very good at it.”

  My dad chuckled. “Go easy on him, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s trying. He loves you as much as we do.”

  “Yes, he d
oes,” my mom agreed, she and Ryan joining us once again.

  Ryan gave me a cheesy grin that I simply had to roll my eyes at. He enjoyed being championed by my parents a little too much.

  Major Wilks broke up the family reunion. “I know you haven’t had much time together, but it’s best if we get moving.”

  I nodded, and Dr. Rajeet finally stepped forward to greet me. After a quick introduction, we were escorted through the ominous locked doors to some kind of operating room that had an observation window above it. Behind the window were a few rows of seats. Dr. Rajeet pointed to the glass. “That room is usually for medical students to observe different procedures. Your family and military escort are welcome to watch everything we do from there. They will also be able to hear us.”

  Before I could say anything, Major Wilks stepped in to argue. “I want at least two of my men in the same room as Miss Baker at all times, Doctor.”

  After a wary once-over of my small band of armed escorts, Dr. Rajeet forced a smile and nodded. “With the tests we plan to do today, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  My heart sped up at the dreaded T word. “What kind of tests do you plan to do?”

  Um, yeah, my anxiety was obvious. My dad squeezed me tight, and Dr. Rajeet’s face softened, his eyes conveying understanding and sympathy. His soft-spoken and gentle nature was very comforting. If I didn’t fear lab testing so much, I’d probably like the man. “Because of your unique brain activity and tissue damage, we would like to do an extensive neurological examination. We want to make sure that the abnormal amount of electrical impulses in your brain isn’t what caused the tissue damage. We want to make sure you don’t end up with any more.”

  Wow. I hadn’t considered that possibility. I didn’t think that was the case considering I’d been fine before the explosion, and I didn’t seem to be getting worse. But if it was possible that my electricity was capable of frying my brain without having to pull in the nuclear amount I’d used to blow up Visticorp, then I wanted to know. Still, an extensive examination sounded bad.

  “What does a neurological examination involve? Like what kinds of tests are we talking about?”

  Dr. Rajeet smiled again. “All risk-free and painless tests, for the most part. Some of the neurological tests may cause a bit of discomfort, but nothing painful. And you can have your parents—or whomever you trust the most—with you if it will ease some of your apprehension.”

  “I want Ryan to stay with me.”

  The words flew out of my mouth before I’d even thought them—blurted so fast that every single person in the room smirked or laughed. Ryan’s chuckle was soft, but the cockiness in it was unmistakable. I met his smirk with my angriest glare, but his confidence never wavered. “You’re acting like a girlfriend right now, Jamie. You know that, right?”

  He was relentless. And frustrating. And so right. Finally willing to admit to the inevitability of a future with Ryan, I gave in. I was tired of fighting it. But my pride wouldn’t allow me to take my defeat gracefully. “Ugh, fine! Call yourself my boyfriend, if you must. Just come with me and make sure I don’t freak out in there.”

  A cheer rang out around us as all the ACEs hooted, cheered, clapped, and whistled. So much for them keeping a professional demeanor while on assignment. I reached new levels of embarrassment.

  I waited for Ryan to gloat, but his arrogance disappeared for once. When he tugged me away from my father and pulled my face into his hands, he was all gentleness. The only thing I saw in his expression was joy. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, and then gave me a short, soft, sweet kiss. “You’ll be fine today. I promise.”

  When I realized that I believed him, I sighed in defeat and laced our hands together. “Thanks.”

  And we were back to the stupid cotton gown. I sat on the table—at least this one was minus the crinkly paper—and Ryan stood at my side. There was a chair for him along the side of the room, but until they told him to get out of the way, he wasn’t going to let go of my hand.

  Dr. Rajeet returned with seven doctors, whom he introduced as esteemed colleagues and the absolute best in the world in neurological care. All of them gave me the creeps, but that could have been because one of them was most likely a crazy mad scientist in cahoots with James Donovan, desperate to capture me for his lab experiments. Thankfully, Dr. Rajeet would be the one actually administering my tests. The others were only there to assist, observe, and throw in their two cents when needed.

  They started with the simple stuff—blood, urine, and DNA samples. I didn’t know what they hoped to find in my blood that would help me get my memory back, but I kept quiet and let them have their fun. Ryan and I had both held our breaths when they’d pulled out the needle. I was strong, but thankfully I wasn’t impenetrable. No Man of Steel skin for me. I hadn’t been sure until then.

  Next came another MRI, CT scan, and EEG. Those didn’t scare me since I’d already had them done before. But after that, they got a little more creative.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is that?” I asked when one of the new doctors handed a syringe to Dr. Rajeet. “Taking a blood sample is one thing, but you’re not injecting anything into me.”

  All of the doctors jerked back at my outburst, especially the doctor who’d brought over the unidentified liquid he wanted to shoot into my body. Dr. Rajeet paused. “Miss Baker, I assure you this is safe. We’d like to perform a simple PET scan.”

  “Meaning?”

  He held up the needle. “Meaning a standard medical test that we use to highlight tumors and diseased tissue. It can also measure cellular and/or tissue metabolism, and show blood flow in your brain.”

  I sighed. He said it was standard, but I still didn’t like the look of that needle. I eyed the man who’d given Dr. Rajeet the syringe. Was he Donovan’s partner? Had he swapped needles when no one was looking and replaced it with something else that could harm me?

  As if reading my thoughts, Ryan squeezed my hand. “It’s okay, babe. Let the doctors do their job. That’s why we came.”

  Not that what he said was convincing in the least, but he said it with such surety. And who could say no to that face? Seriously, who? Reluctantly, I held my arm out to Dr. Rajeet. I watched silently as he sterilized my inner elbow, and I held my breath as he pumped the liquid into my body. I felt its cool foreignness travel up my arm. “What is that stuff?”

  Dr. Rajeet’s eyes brightened. “It’s a mix of special radioactive isotopes that will bind with certain chemicals that flow to your brain. Here, lie back.”

  Ryan started to help me lie back, but I snapped up. “Did he just say radioactive?”

  Ryan pushed me back. “Babe, lie down.”

  “He just pumped me full of radioactive material!”

  Dr. Rajeet smiled as he adjusted some kind of machine above me. “Completely harmless, I assure you. These scanners will be able to detect the gamma rays—”

  “Gamma rays!” I shot up again. “Oh, hell no.”

  “Miss Baker, please try to relax.”

  Ryan placed his hands on my shoulders.

  “Gamma rays, Ryan. The man just said gamma rays.”

  The doctors in the room all chuckled at my reaction, but I didn’t find it funny. My life was already comic book enough without radioactive isotopes and gamma rays.

  “It’s perfectly safe, Miss Baker. We use this test to evaluate patients who have seizure disorders that don’t respond to medical therapy, and for patients with certain memory disorders. It can help us determine brain changes following an injury. We might learn more about your condition. Why it happened, how, if it’s still happening, or if it’s likely to happen again.”

  That gave me pause. It sounded like medical mumbo jumbo, but at least it was about my memory. And I did not like the possibility of any more brain damage, thank-you-very-much.

  Ryan took advantage of my hesitation and gently pushed me back until I was once again lying on the hospital bed. He pulled my hand to his lips. “You’ve got to tr
ust him.”

  I pulled him down to me so I could speak in a whisper. “Fine, but you said I was cooked in toxic waste. What if I’m already radioactive? What if the gamma rays they detect aren’t normal? What if they figure out my secret? Or what if whatever they just pumped into me reacts badly with whatever’s already in my system?”

  I could see I had him stumped. His brow furrowed with concern. But before either of us could make any kind of decision, Ryan was pulled away from me and I was pushed into the large white tube of a machine that they’d used to do my CT scan and my MRI.

  I could have climbed out. I could have forced them to stop. But that seemed more suspicious than anything else, so I tried to relax. There were a few moments of silence, and then people began to gasp. “What on earth?” someone asked while another whispered, “Would you look at that.”

  Every medical person in the room quickly gathered around some monitor to gawk and stare. “It’s impossible,” someone said.

  “Any more impossible than her brain activity?” Dr. Rajeet challenged.

  “What happened to this poor young woman?”

  “How can she be alive with this much radioactivity in her brain?”

  “It’s not just her brain,” the man who’d given Dr. Rajeet the needle of radioactive junk said. “Look. It’s everywhere.”

  They were monitoring my entire body and not just my head. Under the scanner, my body was ablaze with pulsating color. My theory must have been correct. I was a walking, talking vat of radioactive toxic waste.

  While the doctors continued to marvel at my scans—comic book pun totally intended—I started to freak out. This was so not good. My panic attack was interrupted by another loud gasp. “It can’t be.” Someone dashed to a computer and began typing away. Ryan muttered a curse just as the doctor gasped again. “It’s her. I don’t believe it. This young woman is Chelsea’s Angel!”

  Echoing Ryan’s curse, I scrambled out of the scanning machine. The doctor had pulled up pictures of me on the Internet as Chelsea’s Angel. The hair color and eye mask really didn’t do much to conceal my identity. It was obviously me. “Time to go,” I said to Ryan.