by Linnea Hall
Edgar eagerly attended his next class, hoping for more information about the Holy Grail and the secrets it held. However, the next lecture detailed the disbanding of the Knights Templar, and the creation of new orders with similar purpose, the Teutonic Knights and the Knights Hospitaller. The professor never again spoke of the Holy Grail. This spurred in Edgar an interest so fierce, so overwhelming that it consumed his life from that moment onward.
His personal quest for the Holy Grail began with his professor. His professor was a wealth of information. He explained that the myths of the Grail have been romanticized since the publication of Le Morte d’Arthur. He also explained that besides the Teutonic Knights and the Knights Hospitaller, a third order existed, the Obsidian Knights who sought to right the wrong that transpired so many centuries past, to kill the unjust that stole the secret of the Grail, and reclaim what once belonged to the rightful.
It was only a chosen few who were invited to join the Obsidian Knights. They were hand selected and initiated into the Order only after it was ascertained that they could be trusted to carry on the search for the Grail while maintaining the secrets of the Obsidian Knights. It was three years before the Order was convinced that Edgar was of the caliber of individual they were seeking for their yet unfulfilled task.
Upon initiation into the Order, secrets were shared teaching the true nature of the Holy Grail and the gifts that it endowed upon those that drank from it. There were people that not only knew of the Grail’s existence, but drank from the Grail and gained its gift of immortality. These were the thieves of God’s gifts to the faithful, the enemies of the righteous. The mission of the Obsidian Knights was to identify these infidels, and to swiftly mete out justice through beheading, without trial or mercy.
It was one of these infidels that Edgar sought now.
CHAPTER 4
Jewell walked into the women’s locker room at the hospital. In the locker room, she was immediately the center of attention. The other nurses clamored around her, asking their excited questions at once. “They said you were there, when he came back to life!” This question was from Megan, another new recruit to the hospital. Jewell had met her during orientation.
“Um, yeah.” Jewell pulled her scrub top over her head.
“Was he really dead for an hour?” Jeannie asked this.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was only a few minutes.” It was all Jewell could do to get dressed while being bombarded with questions from the other nurses. As quickly as she could, she left the locker room and went to report to her supervisor. She wanted to go see the man before she started work. She could not stop thinking about him, and was certain that it was just her concern for his wellbeing. Once she saw that he was doing well, she would be able to let it go.
Nurse Carla Yohanan, the ER nurse supervisor, had a stern bearing about her. Most of the other nurses that worked with Jewell in the ER hated Nurse Yohanan; they thought she was insensitive, but Jewell liked the woman.
Jewell found Nurse Yohanan talking to one of the doctors but didn’t remember the doctor’s name. When Nurse Yohanan finished with the doctor and noticed Jewell standing behind her, she turned with that tight lipped smile she always wore; it almost looked like a grimace. Some of the other nurses said that Nurse Yohanan didn’t know how to smile. Jewell knew differently. She had watched Nurse Yohanan with some of the patients. She had more compassion, and more caring than most of the other nurses combined. Nurse Yohanan reminded Jewell of her mother who was also a nurse before she died.
“Good evening Jewell. Are you ready to start? You’re a little early.” She started flipping pages on the clipboard she held, looking for an appropriate assignment.
“Actually Nurse Yohanan, I was hoping that I could take a few minutes to see the man that they brought in last night. I just wanted to see how he was doing.”
Nurse Yohanan’s face hardened. Jewell could see that Nurse Yohanan was thinking that another one of her nurses wanted to gawk at the freak, as if he was some sort of circus side show. It was clear that Nurse Yohanan was getting tired of hearing the story of last night’s raising of the dead. After a minute though, the corners of her lips turned up in what Jewell could only guess was a smile. “That’s right. You were one of the nurses who took care of him last night, weren’t you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Well, I think that would be very appropriate. He’s in ICU, but seems to be stable.”
Jewell sighed in relief. She had been worried about the young man’s fate, afraid that his heart had restarted, only to fail again. “Thank you Nurse Yohanan. I won’t be long.” Jewell didn’t wait for Nurse Yohanan’s reply.
Although she wasn’t exactly running, she was moving as fast as she could towards the ICU. Something inside her made her want to see him again, a need, and a burning desire. She could feel her heart speed at the thought of seeing him again; her hands started trembling at the excitement of seeing this man she had only glimpsed briefly the night before.
As Jewell rounded the corner, she saw Carol sitting at the nurses’ station in front of the ER. Jewell liked Carol. She was an older woman, with graying hair and a pleasant smile.
Carol’s face lit up when she saw Jewell nearly running down the hall. “Slow down honey, or you’re going to end up in ICU when you trip and land on your face. Trust me, he’s going to be here a while.” She smiled, knowingly.
Jewell slowed her pace, embarrassed that someone had seen her in her excitement to reach the ICU; to see him. “I know,” she answered. “I was just…concerned.”
Jewell signed the log at the desk before moving to the entrance of the ICU. She paused before the door, trying to catch her breath. Suddenly, she found it very difficult to breathe, her breath coming in short gasps. Her heart was racing. It felt as if her heart was going to punch through her chest and go bouncing along the floor. She choked back a laugh at the thought and turned to look at Carol, certain that Carol could hear her heart thudding against her ribs, but Carol just smiled her reassurance.
Jewell reached for the doors, and pushed through. The man was in the first bed on the left. He had been cleaned up, so he looked better than he had the night before. His hair was a soft sandy color where she could see it sticking out in short spikes from beneath the bandages that covered his head. She knew that the gash underneath the bandages had been cleaned and sutured, his head partially shaved to administer to the wound. She grieved for the loss of his perfect hair, even if it was only temporary. Both of his legs were in casts, but on his left leg, the cast only went up to his knee. His right leg had a cast that covered his entire leg. Two metal pins stuck out of the side of this cast near his knee. His chest was bandaged, but no longer sunken as it had been last night, though she knew this was only because his ribs had been set. His collarbones were no longer disfigured. He wore a figure–of–8 brace to hold them in place.
Her knees felt weak as she gazed at the man’s face. It looked so familiar. It was like looking into the face of someone she had known her whole life. Someone she was meant to know for the rest of her life. Someone she should have met a long time ago, but didn’t due to cruel circumstance. Her hand started moving of its own accord toward his face. When she realized what she was about to do, she snatched her hand back just before her fingers could brush along his perfect cheekbone. She longed to touch his face, to hold his hand, to look into his eyes.
She reached for the man’s chart on the wall next to his bed. She flipped it open. His name had been filled in on the chart; Collin Sykes. She looked at his birth date next to his name. She was surprised to see that he was older than her by two years. He looked so young. She glanced through the rest of the chart. She was shocked by the extent of his injuries. He must have been with the surgeons for most of the day to correct everything that was cracked, broken, and bruised.
When she had satisfied herself that he was going to live through the night, she walked slowly from the room. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to s
tay there, to sit with him until he woke. She wanted to be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.
She scolded herself knowing that these feelings, these longings were unfounded. She didn’t know who the man was, she had no connection to him, and the professional thing to do would be to never see him again. She was probably feeling this way because she had helped to save his life. Once she left, it would be easier. There would be no reason to see him again as she rarely had reason to leave the ER, and she definitely had no reason to go upstairs to the patients’ rooms so after she left, she would never see him again. As she left, she silently vowed to forget that Collin Sykes ever existed.
She smiled at Carol as she walked past the ICU desk. “Well, I need to get to work or Nurse Yohanan is going to hunt me down.”
“Do you want me to let you know when they move him upstairs?” Carol asked.
Jewell paused for a minute, remembering the face she so desperately longed for. “No. No I don’t,” she responded a little too abruptly as she turned and strode back toward the ER.
CHAPTER 5
Percy Knighton sat in his car outside the hospital watching as news reporters clamored for information about the victim of a car accident that had occurred the night before. They were seeking sensationalist headlines, something to sell papers. A rumor had been leaked that one of the drivers of the previous night’s collision had died, but was then brought back to life after medical knowledge shouldn’t have been able to revive him.
Although Percy couldn’t hear what was being said, he could imagine. It probably played out like a headline in the Weekly World News; Man Rises from the Dead after Car Accident, or Zombie Driver Terrorizes Hospital Staff. It wasn’t a completely impossible occurrence. It had happened before; children falling through the ice and pronounced clinically dead, only to be revived after thirty minutes when the body temperature begins to rise. Once in a while news stories were published about people that were taken to the morgue or even buried, only to be found alive hours later – these stories though usually originated in third world countries, not in the United States. He knew that the story of this young man’s survival, his nephew’s survival, would be the topic of news stories for weeks to come. He also knew that this meant it was time to run.
Percy had been taking care of Collin since Collin was only three months old. This wouldn’t bother Percy if he wasn’t a hunted man, forcing him to run from place to place to protect his identity, his secrets. He hated forcing Collin into this lifestyle. He hoped, when Collin was born, that Collin would live a normal life with his parents, but Collin’s parents had been murdered. The details of that particular murder had been in the news for months, the murder having been particularly…gruesome. Percy felt a pain in his chest at this unexpected memory. He also regretted the realization that what made him a hunted man, now made Collin hunted as well.
After a time, the media representatives dissipated. The doctor and the sheriff had retreated back into the hospital, denying entrance to the reporters. Percy waited for another half hour, just to be safe – he didn’t want to have to answer any questions - and walked to the hospital. He told the young woman at the desk who he was, and who he had come to see. She didn’t need to look Collin up in the computer; she knew who he was, and where he was. After confirming Percy’s ID, she told Percy that he would need to speak first with Dr. Babineaux, head of the ICU. Dr. Babineaux liked to prepare the family member for what they were about to see; to prepare the family for the emotional shock.
A young man escorted Percy down the hall and ushered Percy into a large office where Dr. Babineaux, who was sitting behind the large desk, stood and gestured for Percy to have a seat in one of the chairs facing the desk. The office was tastefully decorated, expensive looking, but not ostentatious. There was a large mahogany desk on the right, facing a large window on the left wall. Behind the desk was a bookshelf covering the whole wall, front to back, top to bottom which was completely filled with medical texts and references. In front of the desk were two large, comfortable looking leather chairs.
After Percy had settled into one of the chairs, Dr. Babineaux sat with his hands folded on his desk, scrutinizing Percy. The intense stare, coupled with the curiosity in the doctor’s eyes made Percy nervous; it seemed that the doctor knew, or suspected something out of the ordinary. The doctor sat silent for a long moment. Percy was unsure whether the doctor was waiting for Percy to speak first, or if he was simply gathering his thoughts. This was a rather unique situation, after all. Percy was a man of interminable patience, so he waited for the doctor to speak first.
The doctor began by clearing his throat. He looked at Percy again, with that strange and curious stare, before speaking. “My name is Dr. Nicholas Babineaux, head of ICU. I generally like to speak to a patient’s family before allowing them to see the patient, typically to prepare them for what they might see. As you can imagine, it can be…difficult.”
“Nicholas Babineaux, the researcher?”
“Yes, I have published some articles.”
“I’ve read some of your work. You’re interested in…” Percy didn’t want to reveal too much. Babineaux’s research indicated an interest in his kind, but it in no way revealed on what side his interests lay. “…in the effects of certain enzymes on wound healing and life span.”
“Yes, yes, exactly. Are you familiar with my research?”
“I too am a doctor and researcher. I’m interested in the area though I’ve never published. I seek to disable the enzyme where I understand you seek to enable it.”
“Interesting. And is your interest personal or medical?”
Percy didn’t answer, but simply watched the doctor intently.
“Yes. I see where that question might be a little…personal.”
Percy didn’t say anything, only nodded.
“Your nephew was involved in a very serious car accident. His injuries were quite extensive. When he arrived in the ER last night, we had reason to believe that he wouldn’t survive.” The doctor paused for a moment, apparently waiting for Percy’s reaction. Percy gave none.
The doctor continued. “He…we,” the doctor seemed to change the direction of his thoughts, “were able to…revive him…” the doctor seemed uncomfortable with his explanation. Percy knew why. If Babineaux’s research interest was what Percy thought it was, then Babineaux knew the exact reason for the unusual events of the previous night. The doctor probably wondered if Percy knew but would want to confirm his understanding of the situation. “He was in surgery for most of the day, but he is stable, in ICU. We expect to move him to a room sometime tomorrow, despite the extent of his injuries. He seems to be…responding well to treatment.” It was clear to Percy that this man was not frequently at a loss for words, but in this case, the words did not flow easily.
Percy remained silent, waiting for the doctor to continue; to explain the strange occurrence of the previous night before Percy had the opportunity to read it in tomorrow’s headlines.
Instead, the doctor said something unexpected. “I would like to include Sheriff Payne in our conversation. He saw the accident site shortly after the accident occurred.”
Percy took a moment to consider the Doctor’s comment. He was on edge; he did not know if he had just walked into his hunter’s snare, or if this was simply standard procedure, or if, against all odds, he had found a sympathizer. Perhaps because the injuries occurred as the result of an automobile accident, the sheriff would want to speak to the family. Percy was uncomfortable being questioned; there was much that he could not disclose.
“If that’s necessary,” he replied carefully, in an even tone. He tried not to reveal his reluctance in his response; in his experience, refusing to answer questions generally only made things worse.
“I believe it is.” The doctor pushed himself up using his desk for support. He glanced again at Percy and walked to the door to his office.
The doctor’s inquisitive looks were beginning to make Percy increasi
ngly uneasy. Percy folded his hands carefully in his lap, and casually crossed his legs. He had practice at looking at ease, even when he was not.
When the doctor returned, he had the sheriff with him. Percy stood as the sheriff walked toward him. The sheriff’s uniform was neatly pressed, and the name tag on his left breast pocket read “Payne.” The sheriff extended his hand in greeting. He was smiling, but the smile was cautious and did not reach his eyes. He looked at Percy with the same intense, curious gaze as the doctor.
The sheriff took Percy’s hand and looked into Percy’s eyes as if he were trying to look into the depths of Percy’s soul. As he firmly shook Percy’s hand, maintaining contact longer than was customary, he resolutely introduced himself to Percy giving his full name. “Hugh Payne.”
Percy showed no reaction to the sheriff’s introduction, but at the sound of the name his heart skipped a beat. He looked at the man shaking his hand, “Interesting,” he responded cautiously. “Hugh Payne? Were you aware that one of the original Templars had the same name? Are you perhaps related?”
“No, not related. I was lucky to have the surname. My father though, was a great admirer of Hughes De Paynes.”
“I see. Perhaps his life has had as much of an effect on your life as it has on mine?”
“Have you led a penitent’s life?” Sheriff Payne asked the verifying question.
“I have, but all has not been forgiven.” Percy replied in the standard response, carefully looking at each man individually.
“No my friend,” Dr. Babineaux responded, placing special emphasis on the word ‘friend.’ “Indeed it has not.”
All three men grinned as the doctor gave Percy a friendly slap on the back. Percy was almost giddy with relief. Perhaps, he and Collin wouldn’t need to leave after all. The men standing before him had sworn to protect his and Collin’s lives with their own.