Echo of an Earth Angel (The Earth Angel Trilogy: #1)

by Sarah M. Ross

  The boy shook his head and closed his eyes.

  “Don’t you give up on me. Anyone can give up, but it takes true strength to hold out hope. I know you have that strength. I can see it in your eyes. And I have hope. You’re going to be fine, just breathe.”

  The pounding in Tessa’s head was at a roar, like one of those monkeys that clashed symbols was playing between her ears. She blinked a few times to focus and refused to give in to the pain. She wanted to get closer to the boy, but there were too many obstacles. She stood up and analyzed the situation. She studied the objects trapping the boy, measuring in her mind their angles and dimensions before calculating how best to free him without harming him further. It was like a giant Jenga puzzle only with real life consequences; she needed to remove the correct pieces or the whole thing would tumble down and crush him. One false move and a single piece could fall, impaling him. Very carefully, she started with an overturned chair from near the top of the pile. After successfully lifting it away, she let out the breath she was holding and laid it next to her. She went for the magazine rack next, twisting it out from between some metal from the train car and a heavy suitcase. It came free, clearing a large space to step lower toward the kid.

  “Almost there. How are you doing? Can you blink once if you’re okay? Or give me a thumbs up?” Tessa asked, trying to reassure the kid, but no reply came.

  She grabbed for the suitcase next, but before she could change its position, the train car lurched forward. She reached her hands toward the wall for support so she didn’t topple, but all the debris she’d so carefully relocated tumbled back over the boy. After a moment, the train car was settled again and she let go and dropped to her knees.

  “Oh, oh my. Are you okay? You’re not dead are you?” Tessa called nervously to the boy. She could no longer see him, and shoved any object not burdened or trapped by anything aside that she could.

  After moving out a few more things, she could see the boy’s face. His eyes were closed, and Tessa feared the worst. But when she felt for his pulse relief washed through her. He was still alive. The protruding object hadn’t lodged any further into him.

  Loud banging and the sounds of drilling started outside. They must be trying to create an opening, she thought. And they’ll be here soon. She began moving objects again, and after a few minutes, she cleared enough that the upper half of his body was free.

  “I want to take that piece out of you. I’m afraid of the train moving again and something falling on you.” She spoke aloud, but presumed he was unconscious.

  His eyes shot open though, blinking rapidly. “You don’t want me to take it out? You’re afraid? Don’t worry, as soon as I do I’ll heal the wound. I’m not going to let you die, I promise.”

  Again the kid blinked rapidly at her, obviously not trusting her abilities. She didn’t blame him, they still seemed mind-boggling to her too.

  “How about this, can you blink twice if you have any other serious injuries? I need to know what I’m working with. Can you feel your toes?”

  The boy blinked twice, but since she’d asked two questions she wasn’t sure which question he answered. Before she could ask again, his eyes rolled back in his head and he was out cold.

  “You’re just going to have to trust me here, darlin’,” she whispered close to his ear and her hands deftly shifted to his throat. She used her left hand to hold his neck into place and grasped the impaled object in her right.

  “Here we go. One…two…thr--“ she started to say, but before she could finish she heard more voices.

  “Fire rescue! Anyone in here?”

  Tessa debated answering for a moment. She couldn’t heal him if others were around, but at the same time, she couldn’t free him by herself and couldn’t carry him out without risking further injury. She made up her mind and lowered her hands.

  “Back here!” she replied, shining the light back and forth to get the person’s attention. “I’ve got a victim who’s been seriously injured. I need a neck brace and a backboard. And help freeing his legs, they’re still trapped.”

  “Are you okay? Any injuries to yourself?” The rescue worker called back.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Okay, we’re on our way. The car is resting on rubble and shifting weight back and forth is causing it to teeter. We’re placing blocks under it to stabilize now, and as soon as they’re in place we’ll be in.”

  “This kid doesn’t have that kind of time. He has something sticking out of his throat, and I can’t even see his back or legs to know the extent of those injuries. Isn’t there anything you can do now?”

  “Not without risking a total collapse. Just stay where you are and whatever you do, don’t take the object out. It may be the only thing keeping him alive.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If his carotid was nicked, that object may be keeping the blood from rushing out. Just keep his neck stable and keep him still.”

  Tessa paled. I almost killed him, she chastised herself. Half a second more and I would’ve killed him instead of helping him. I’m not helping at all. I’m making it worse. Her bottom lip quivered and guilt washed over her. She put her hands on either side of his neck to keep it stable as the rescue worked said. She smiled down at the boy and focused on healing without taking the object out. Her hands couldn’t budge from his neck to other injured areas, but she hoped the healing would spread. She really wished David were here to teach her, to guide her. She had no idea how much was enough, and she was terrified she would heal too much. She hated knowing once again, she was facing things alone. Yes, Morgan would always be her best friend, but Morgan couldn’t help her with this.

  A tear slid down her cheek, and she raised her shoulder to wipe it away. Her stomach was in so many knots a sailor couldn’t free them and bile stung the back of her throat. Focus Tessa! Stop wallowing. This isn’t about you, it’s about him. So knock it off already, she scolded herself. She cleared the thoughts and put everything into healing this kid. She stared at him, and her glowing hands intently. She could hear the rescue workers outside and knew they were coming, but she didn’t allow her focus to stray again. Before she knew it, the object in his throat began to rise. It was as if something was pushing it out of his body from the inside out, the way your body pushes out a splinter sometimes.

  “Oh my God! What do I do?” Tessa stared down at the object, terrified of her powers. The one thing they told her not to do was happening without her trying. She glanced around frantically, praying they were almost through and trained, medical professionals could take over soon. But no one was around. And when she looked back down at the kid, the piece of shrapnel was almost completely out.

  She removed her hands and slid backwards on her behind, terrified she was killing him. She willed him to live but was afraid to go near him. She rubbed her eyes for a moment, trying to remember if anything from her babysitting first aid course would help in this situation, when she heard a tink, tink sound. She opened her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. The metal object in his throat was now completely out and fell to the ground. Tessa scooted back to him, inspecting the wound. It was bleeding, but she didn’t think his carotid was nicked because it wasn’t gushing. She used a nearby pack of paper towels to put pressure on the wound while she took his pulse with the other hand. It was stronger than before. She hadn’t killed him after all!

  Just as she started doing a mental happy dance, the rescue team, with one final heave-ho, broke through the wall, allowing light to pour in from outside. Squinting against the sudden brightness, several people rushed toward her with medical equipment, but she didn’t want to leave the kid behind. She wanted to make sure he was going to be okay. That she’d made a difference. They were calling orders to each other as they maneuvered around the rubble to make their way to the boy, but no one said anything to her. When they reached her, a strong but gentle set of hands settled on either side of her shoulders.

  “We’ve got this now. You can let
go.” Tessa nodded and slowly let go as the rescue worker’s hands replaced her own. Several people worked to free his legs while two paramedics attended to his neck wounds. She started to slowly back away, realizing they might start asking her questions she couldn’t answer. Like “how did you get here?” or “why are you wearing a police jacket?” She only made it about five steps before the plan backfired.

  “Hey, you. Wait a minute,” the rescue worker called out to her. Tessa weighed her options: flee and look completely guilty or stay and lie through her teeth. She squeezed her eyes together and gathered her resolve before turning around. According to David, she was going to have lifetimes of lying ahead of her.

  “I’m going to head out and see if I’m needed anywhere else,” Tessa said trying to sound as grown-up as possible.

  “Didn’t you say there was an object impaling this kid? What happened?” The guy didn’t look at her when he spoke, instead he focused on the patient. She was glad because he would’ve seen her cringe at the question she dreaded most.

  “I took it out. I’m sorry; I know you said not to.”

  “You could’ve killed him! Do you know how lucky you are he’s not dead right now? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Again, I’m sorry. It happened before you said not to. I was afraid to tell you before you got there, but I kept pressure on the wound and he’s going to be fine. Now unless you need something else, I’m heading out to see where else I’m needed.” She didn’t give him the chance to retort before she made it to the hole they cut and headed back out into the daylight. She didn’t plan on sticking around, but she needed to get out of there before she wound up in jail or vomited on everyone.

  Things progressed rapidly while she’d been helping the kid. There were holes in several of the trains that held trapped people, and they were freeing them more quickly. Tessa slipped back into the crowd of rescue workers, not wanting to get more questions from anyone. Being out in the fresh air—though still heavy with the smells of carnage—did wonders for her nausea and headache. Feeling a bit braver because she was wearing an official jacket, she headed toward the main street instead of skirting around six blocks like she did when she came in. I’ll simply slip out and make it look like I’m going to get something or needed elsewhere. No one will even notice me.

  As she passed by the rows of ambulances and toward the police tape holding the reporters and camera crews at bay, she saw several people with non-life threatening injuries sitting on gurneys or on the steps of the ambulances. Each was plagued with a variety of injuries: cuts, scrapes, bruises and the like. Some were holding bandaged heads or arms in makeshift slings. It was apparent they were treated hastily and told to wait their turn, but studying their faces, Tessa could see most were in a lot of pain. Apparently, they weren’t given aspirin or anything before the paramedics left them to treat those with the most serious or life-threatening injuries. Paramedics from neighboring communities were slow to arrive on the scene due to rush hour traffic cluttering the highways, and until they arrived, a lot of people were stuck waiting and suffering.

  Now this I can help with, Tessa thought as she headed over to the person closest to her. It was an older woman, Tessa guessed in her late sixties. Her clothes were sooty and torn and one shoe dangled from her foot while the other was nowhere in sight. She was holding her arm protectively and blood dripped down her face from a deep cut.

  “Hi there. I’m just here to make sure you’re all still okay. How’s the arm?” Tessa asked, hoping she sounded professional.

  “I think it’s broken. I can’t bend or straighten it at all. Must have happened when I was thrown from my seat.” The woman seemed disconnected to what was happening around her, and Tessa wondered if she was in shock.

  “And how’s your head feel? It’s still bleeding pretty good.”

  “Um, my head?” The woman started to lift her uninjured arm toward her head, but upon attempting it she winced in pain and grabbed the injured arm again.

  “Why don’t I see if I can find a bandage.” Tessa needed to stop the bleeding, but hoped she could use the bandage as a ruse. She stepped up into the ambulance and began to dig through drawers. She found what she needed and jumped back down. When she came up to the older woman again, she stood facing her and away from prying eyes. Tessa opened the alcohol swabs and cleared some of the dried blood from the woman’s face and placed a gauze bandage on her temple where it was still bleeding. Tessa’s stomach eased now that the blood had been washed away, and she kept her hand on the wound and the warmth once again radiated through her. The woman’s eyes were closed, so Tessa wasn’t worried about being caught. After a minute, she took her hands off and removed the gauze to inspect the wound. She needed to make sure she stopped the bleeding. When she wiped more blood away, she couldn’t believe it. The skin around the wound had fused back together. Just a small scar remained.

  “Wow,” Tessa marveled. The woman opened her eyes and blinked a few times, reminding Tessa she needed to keep up the professional decorum. “Oh, um, are you feeling better now?”

  “Yes. I am. My head’s so much less foggy. How did you do that?”

  “Oh, I just wiped the blood away. How’s the arm? Still in a lot of pain?” Tessa very gently placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder and her hand began to glow. She kept it there for a few seconds to take the edge of the pain until a doctor could get it set and cast. The woman didn’t say anything, just sat there in stunned amazement. Tessa smiled and threw away the bloodied bandages. “I think you’re going to be fine. Wait here until someone can take you to the hospital to look at that arm.”

  And with that, Tessa made her way to the next person waiting. She refrained from skipping, but she was so giddy she had done something to help. Daddy would be so proud, she thought. She came up to a man in his mid-thirties dressed in a business suit who sat perched on the steps on the back of an ambulance, his head leaning against the side as he rested. There was a bandage already wrapped around his hand, and she could see the blood seeping through it. Tessa sidestepped him and went into the vehicle to restock on bandages. After filling a small bag with anything and everything she thought she’d need, she tossed it over her shoulder before returning to the man.

  “I’m going to change that dressing,” she greeted him, not really giving a choice in the matter.

  “Sure. Okay. Thanks,” he said, continuing to stare at the sea of debris behind them.

  Tessa shrugged. Poor guy is probably overwhelmed with the situation. “Do you want to borrow my cell phone? Call someone at let them know you’re okay?”

  “Really? Oh, thank you. My wife is probably hysterical after seeing it on the news.”

  Tessa handed him the phone. He took it with his good hand and held the wounded one out for her. She removed the soiled bandage and rewrapped it. As her hands made contact with his injuries, she frowned. She didn’t need an x-ray to see that his hand was crushed and he had several broken bones. He should have been taken to the hospital! she thought, shaking her head in disgust. Who would have left him to sit here for so long? She couldn’t believe he wasn’t howling in pain. She shook her head and let her hands work their healing magic once more. He was deep in conversation with his wife, issuing soothing words and promises that he was okay and “just a little dinged up” and he would try to get a flight home as soon as he could. He was so lost in his conversation he didn’t react much when she mended the worst of the wound, enough to restore functionality and use one day. His fingers twitched slightly as she worked, but that was the only indication he gave.

  She finished and wove a clean bandage around his hand once again. Finishing it off with a piece of tape, she stood and scanned the area for someone she could work on next.

  “There you go. All cleaned up. Hope you feel better.”

  Finishing his phone call with declarations of “I love you”, he handed the phone back to Tessa. “Thank you for that. And for this,” he said, holding his hand in the air.
/>   “That’s what I’m here for.” She winked before standing up straight and moving on.

  She spent the next half hour this way, meandering through the crowd and helping where she could. She tried to stay unnoticed and was careful not to allow the glowing to be seen by others.

  After healing a kid about her age from a deep laceration on his calf, she snatched one of the bottles of water being passed around and took a moment to breathe. She’d never undergone such a rewarding experience and total exhaustion at the same time. While she gulped down the refreshing beverage, she surveyed the scene. It seemed bizarre only two hours had passed since she arrived. Most of the seriously injured were carted away or flown by helicopter to local hospitals, but several were still trapped. Even more were wandering the area, waiting until they could be taken to the hospital. There were several crews working with heavy machinery on the wreckage, but it was going to take a while. More and more police, firemen, and paramedics arrived on the scene from neighboring counties to help, causing the small neighborhood to teem with people and activity. News crews set up on neighboring roofs and emergency vehicles were parked on lawns, sidewalks, and anywhere else they could fit. It was a circus.

  After recapping the lid, she set the empty bottle in her bag and looked around for the next person she could help. Before she could go anywhere though, someone popped up in front of her and grabbed her arm. It was the rescue worker who questioned her earlier.

  “You again.” He glared down at hear as if she was a petulant child.

  “You again,” she echoed, not saying anything else. She learned early on that you can’t get caught in a lie if you stop speaking.

  “Who are you? I know you’re not police, you don’t look old enough to be out of high school.”