Beacon's Spark (Potomac Shadows Book 1)

by Jim Johnson

  The power! Oh, God, so much power. A deluge of pure blue etheric energy poured out of my body and exploded in a brilliant white flash of light. My eyes and Eye were blinded by the light, as if I had stared into the Sun. The shockwave blasted me off my feet and I felt my body and soul spinning and crashing into a solid, unyielding wall. There was a terrific screech of sound and fury, as if a massive crystal sphere had exploded from the inside and sent shrapnel in every direction.

  There was a massive howl of pain and surprise, and I never knew if that cry had been torn from my own lips, or the Spinner’s, or everyone’s at the same instant.

  The brilliant bright after-image seared into my mind seemed to take forever to fade from view. I felt tears flowing freely down my cheeks, though I was utterly spent of any emotion, or feeling, or awareness of anything but the moment. I was everywhere and nowhere, cosmic and yet contained within the matrix of my crystal.

  It was the most surreal moment of my life. I was certain I had crossed over to the Holding, not as a Beacon, but as a lost soul looking for the way home. Sightless, unable to feel, I groped around for a touchstone, but found nothing.

  Chapter 54

  TIME BECAME MEANINGLESS. MY CONSCIOUSNESS SLOWLY floated back to the surface and my vision both normal and etheric, returned. I found myself on my knees, dry of tears and utterly drained of energy. The fatigue I felt was total, and I sagged back on my knees, unable to even lift a hand to keep myself from falling.

  The soul-forms of my Grandpa and the others were all scattered prone on the ground, unconscious or nearly so. Malcolm was flat on his back. There was no sign of his shadow-tiger. The Spinner was prone on the ground several feet away, laying where the explosion had flung it to the ground.

  I managed to pull myself up onto elbows and knees, and crawled my way toward the Spinner’s form, determined to finish this if I had to do it with my bare hands.

  I didn’t know where that strength came from—maybe it was the souls all around me, the voices in my head, the sheer presence of so many people here with me, helping me. Maybe it was my strange new connection to the ley grid—a question for another time.

  My tears started to flow again. For the first time in forever, I wasn’t alone. There were people here who liked me, who wanted to help me, and I had taken their help and together we had knocked down the Spinner.

  His body was twitching slightly as I neared, and he was gasping for breath. Tiny random arcs of yellow-gold electricity sparked off him here and there, as if he was a broken robot nearly dismantled.

  I forced my way over to him, dragging my body along the ground. He must have heard me approach because he turned his head to stare at me. Both his eyes were sunken pits of darkness, each with a tiny pinpoint of gold light.

  He offered a tired grin as I approached. “Who...are you?”

  I slid my legs underneath me and pushed myself to a sitting position. “Rachel Farran, you son of a bitch. Remember it well, because it’s the last thing you’ll hear in this world.”

  I took a deep breath and started to gather what energies I could from around me, feeling some vestiges of strength returning.

  He stared to wheeze. I blanched when the wheezes turned into low laughs, which then turned into belly-shaking guffaws.

  I took a swing at him and connected with a right hook to the jaw that rocked his head back.

  But he kept laughing.

  I tried to gather more ectoplasmic energy for another burst, but he shook his head. “You’re such a rookie, Rachel. You can’t kill me, not like this, not here. You’re not powerful enough.”

  “Wanna bet?” I mustered up a few more threads to throw at him, but they splashed harmlessly off his body. I was spent.

  He managed the strength to sneer, but then laid back and stared up at the strange gray sky. “It’ll take more than that to destroy me.”

  “Why won’t you die?” I geared up for another attack, but knew in my heart it was useless. I had nothing left to fight with.

  He turned his head, the yellow-gold glow of his aura fading. “You’ve won this battle, girl, but there will be others.”

  He closed his eyes, took a shuddering breath, and then whispered, “I’ll be seeing you...” The energy arcs faded away and stopped popping, and then he was still and silent.

  I stared at his broken body as time shifted into an endless moment. Some unknown time later, I heard footsteps shuffling toward me. I numbly turned my head. Malcolm approached, his tattered Ravens parka draped over his shoulders. His ten-dollar bill, somewhat charred now, hung loosely in his left hand.

  He stumbled over to me and stared down at the still form of the Spinner’s avatar. “Did…did you kill him?”

  I nodded and then joined him in staring at the remains. “We all did. You and me and those good people over there.” I indicated the crowd from Branchwood, who were starting to stir and help each other up off the ground.

  I turned to Malcolm. “I guess we got him.”

  Malcolm nodded and then managed to generate some spit to fleck onto the body. ‘“Bastard killed a lot of people. He got what he deserved.”

  “He said he’d be back.”

  Malcolm turned to stare at me, an uncertain look in his eyes. “What can we do about that?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, Malcolm, but I know someone who might be able to help us.”

  He nodded, but looked doubtful. He reached down and offered his hand, and helped me up to my feet. He put an arm around me and I put one around his shoulders, and together we walked back to meet Grandpa and the other souls.

  Grandpa managed a smile as we approached. “Did we get him, Rachel?”

  I smiled at him and all the others who had helped. I nodded. “You were all great, really. He’s down, for now.”

  I glanced at the Spinner’s body, and then turned back to them. “I don’t think there will be any more unnatural deaths at Branchwood. Not for a long time, anyway.”

  I stared past them toward the distant conduit through the Holding, the one that led back to the mortal world. “In fact,” I added, “It’s time we got back and then closed off this particular doorway.” I addressed all of them. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

  I got smiles and nods of approval for that, and then I turned to Malcolm. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We walked to the conduit together, the various souls falling into place behind us. I brushed dirt and grime off my pants and battered hoodie, and then reached out toward the conduit. The Spinner’s anchors had faded but my own remained strong, maintaining the connection back to the stairwell in the nursing home.

  I nodded toward Malcolm and the others. “Come on, time to go home.”

  Malcolm patted me on the shoulder and then stepped into the conduit and out of sight. Grandpa was next and he gave me a big hug that felt strangely comforting even though he was an insubstantial soul and I was a living being.

  Grandpa followed his life-thread into the conduit and disappeared from view. The other souls of people from Branchwood gave me their thanks with hugs or handshakes or shy nods, before they too entered the conduit and disappeared from sight.

  Eventually, I was the only one left in the Holding. I glanced at the still remains of the souls who hadn’t survived the battle, mourning their loss as keenly as if they had been my own. My eyes fell on the Spinner’s avatar. How empty and alone he looked.

  I shook my head and then turned toward the conduit, realizing that I wasn’t alone any more.

  Chapter 55

  THE RETURN TRIP THROUGH THE VEIL wasn’t nearly as intense as the trip into the Holding had been, though I still felt woozy after I stepped through and got my feet on solid, real ground. A glance around showed we had returned to the stairwell in the nursing home.

  Malcolm reached out a hand for support, and I took it gladly. The conduit behind us was guttering, spilling out blue and silver energies. I reached out with my hand and focused on that energy, and found what felt like an eth
eric switch.

  I shifted the energies, and with a snap and a burp of bass-like tonality, the rift zippered shut and we were plunged into darkness, the impossibly-bright silver glow shining from my crystal pendant our only source of light. But it was enough.

  Malcolm managed a grin through his winces of pain. “I haven’t seen that thing so radiant. I can barely look at you.”

  I nudged him on the arm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  I led him up the stairs and out of the stairwell, and into the nursing home proper. The short hallway was dark and quiet.

  As we neared the larger hallway, though, I could hear a lot more commotion. I glanced at Malcolm in warning, and then we carefully slid up to the T-intersection, and glanced into the larger hallway.

  It was a bedlam of confusion. Older folks were shouting this way and that, arguing over one thing or another. Bonita, several nurses, and a couple of uniformed police officers were trying to control the crowd and make some sort of sense of the whole scene.

  I whispered to Malcolm, “I don’t know if we can get out of here unnoticed.”

  “Farran? Rachel Farran?”

  Crap, case in point. I turned and from within the crowd, Detective Bello approached, the lighting from the ceiling reflecting off his bald head and slick navy suit.

  He approached us with his usual confident, controlled gait. He took in our utterly disheveled appearances. “What the hell happened to you two?”

  I shrugged. “Uh, I fell, and Malcolm helped me up.”

  Malcolm nodded. “I fell too, once or twice. Those stairs...gotta be careful after cleaning time.”

  Bello moved his gaze back and forth between us. “You expect me to believe that you two fell down the stairs?”

  Malcolm and I traded a look. I turned back to Bello and shrugged. “It’s better than any other lie we’d tell you.”

  He gestured toward my crystal. “And how, exactly, do you explain that?”

  “Rachel!” The call spared me from coming up with another lie. I glanced farther down the hall. Bonita pulled herself out of the crowd, leading Grandpa, the real thing—not just his soul—by the hand. Grandpa saw me, raised his other hand, and waved excitedly.

  I gave Bello a little shrug and then moved over to meet them. Bonita gave me a brief hug and then held me at arm’s length and stared hard into my face.

  “Are you all right?” The worry in her eyes was evident.

  I nodded, and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m good, Bonita. We’re all okay.”

  After a long, comfortable hug, I let her go, then focused on Grandpa, who just stood there smiling at me, tears running down his old, deeply-lined face.

  “Oh, Grandpa,” I said, and fell into his arms for a long hug as well. I was more careful with him than with Bonita. I could only guess at the stresses his body had suffered recently, not to mention the whole ‘soul being pulled out of your body ahead of its time’ thing.

  I whispered ‘thank you’ to him over and over, and then finally we let each other go.

  Bello cleared his throat. “I, ah, I’d like to talk with you, Rachel. Once all this...” He gestured toward the general chaos the nursing home had devolved into. “...gets sorted out. Would that be all right?”

  He gave me a look that I was sure had more to it, but I nodded. “I still have your card. I promise I’ll call you soon.” And I even believed I would.

  I glanced at Malcolm. “You gonna be okay?”

  He shrugged and nodded, though I could tell there was a lot going on behind his eyes. “I’m cool, Rachel. Go on. I’ll check on my grandma.”

  Bello turned toward him with a severe look on his face. “Actually, son, I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Malcolm looked as if he was about to start a scene, but then glanced at me. I met his eyes and nodded. He shifted his gaze onto Bello. “Fine, let’s go somewhere and you can talk. Maybe I’ll answer.”

  Bello nodded, and then placed his hand behind one of Malcolm’s biceps and guided him toward the main entrance. I watched Bello lead Malcolm outside, and then I linked arms with Bonita and Grandpa and walked them back to Grandpa’s room.

  I glanced at Bonita. “Could you help him back to bed? God, I’ve gotta clean myself up!”

  I turned Grandpa over to Bonita and then headed to his private bathroom. I took a few minutes to collect myself and then wash my face and hands. As I dried my hands on a paper towel, I stared into the mirror.

  My crystal still glowed brightly. My hands were shaking, and I had big bags under my eyes. I wadded up the towel and soaked it in cold water, then pressed it against my face to try and help the swelling go down.

  I stared at myself as I did that, and, for once, felt no new tears welling up. After switching the towel from one eye to the other, I threw the towel away and then tried to get my hair back into some semblance of order.

  That done, I headed back into Grandpa’s room. He was in the bed, talking animatedly with Bonita. I moved over with a questioning smile on my face. Grandpa grinned at me. “I was just telling Bonita here about how you saved us all, and with our help too!”

  I nodded and then glanced sidelong at Bonita, wondering what she thought of the story.

  She glanced at me and winked. “Your grandpa has quite the imagination. He should write this down and sell the book somewhere. I bet he’d find an audience.”

  I smiled. “Sure, Grandpa. Want to write a book?”

  Grandpa shook his head. “Nah, I don’t have time. I’ll be dead before I get the rejection letters.” He smiled. “Besides, who’d believe the rantings of an old man, anyway?”

  Bonita grinned at Grandpa. “You could always publish it yourself. That’s a thing, now.”

  Grandpa smiled and settled into his bed. “I could, at that.”

  I rested a hand on Bonita’s shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you, okay?”

  Grandpa nodded and gave me one last grin. “I’ll be here. I think me and some of the other folks will have a lot to talk about over coffee and cake tomorrow.” He cackled with glee, and then pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.

  I turned to Bonita. “So…can I impose on you for a ride home?”

  Bonita linked arms with me and led me to the door. “Any time, Rachel.” She grinned. “What are friends for?”

  Chapter 56

  BONITA AND I WALKED OUT INTO the moonlit night. I glanced up at the moon. My spirits soared when I saw it shine in its normal glow, unlike the strange blue coloring it had back in the Holding. Bonita started walking me toward her car, but I paused when I saw Malcolm and Bello standing near a black four-door sedan that looked suspiciously like an unmarked police cruiser.

  As I approached them, Bello asked Malcolm, “And that girl, Rachel? What’s your connection to her?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “You know, she’s just a friend. We both have family living at Branchwood. We wanted to make sure they’re okay, that they’re looked after good, you know?”

  Bello nodded, though if he really understood he wasn’t showing it. “Want to tell me how your jacket got shredded falling down the stairs?”

  Malcolm shifted from one foot to the next and pushed his hands into his pants pockets.

  Oh, crap. I had lost track of his ten-dollar bill during the fight and the return trip from the Holding. The last thing we needed was Malcolm lighting up Bello.

  I stepped over. “Hey, Detective Bello! Malcolm. I figured you guys had left already.”

  Malcolm glanced at me and slowly pulled his hands out of his jeans pockets. I was relieved to see both hands were empty.

  Bello glanced at me. “We were just wrapping up, really.” He focused on Malcolm. “I don’t have any more questions, Malcolm.” He produced a business card. “Call me sometime?”

  Malcolm stared at the card. “Like, when?”

  Bello shrugged. “Next time you fall down the stairs and your jacket shreds and you can’t explain why, exactly.”

  Malcolm snorte
d, but reached out and snagged the business card. “Aight. I may just do that.” He tucked the business card into his pocket. “Can I go or are you gonna charge me?”

  Bello inclined his head. “I’m not sure what I’d charge you with. Have you done anything illegal or…unnatural?” He studied Malcolm and then glanced at me sidelong.

  Malcolm glanced at me and then shook his head. “Not tonight, anyway.” He offered Bello a big smile. “Can I go now?”

  Bello uncrossed his arms and stepped toward one side. “Of course, I have nothing else to ask you. You’re free to go, Malcolm.”

  Malcolm adjusted the remains of his parka around him. “All right, then.” He headed toward his Mustang.

  Bello opened his sedan door and then climbed in and started it up. He rolled down the window and stared at me with a glimmer in his eyes I couldn’t define. “It’ll take a long time to clean things up here, Rachel. The effects of what happened tonight will be felt for a long time.” He glanced at the building and then focused on me as he shifted into drive. “Some things may never be fixed properly. You’ve got my card, right?”

  I stared at him. “Yeah.”

  He nodded. “In the meantime, be careful.”

  I crossed my arms and shot a glance across the top of his car toward Malcolm, who shrugged. I focused on Bello again. “Sure, Detective. I’ll call you in the next few days.” If he had been hinting at something, I missed it.

  He stared up at me, and then nodded. “Take care of yourself, Rachel.” He rolled up his window, and then drove off into the night.

  Malcolm took a couple steps toward me and opened his arms for a hug. I fell into his arms and returned the friendly hug. “Thanks for all your help tonight, Malcolm. I don’t think I could have taken out the Spinner without your help.”

  He broke off the hug and grinned down at me. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing. You did good tonight, girl. Gimme some love.” He held out his hand, palm flat toward me.