by J. T. Bishop
“Sherlock?” An anxious Leroy looked across at his friend. “What did she say?’
Ramsey continued to look down at Sarah before leveling his gaze at Leroy. The two exchanged glances without saying a word.
Declan, anticipating any possible distractions, had walked the house after Sarah’s unexpected appearance. He reappeared as Ramsey answered Leroy. “She said, ‘This is what they’re waiting for.’”
Declan kneeled next to the two of them. “She’s right. Whatever she’s about to go through, they’re expecting it to put us off guard.”
“What do we need to do?” Hannah asked. She stood and waited to hear Declan’s advice.
“You and John, get her in the bedroom, close the door, and do whatever you need to do. Stay with her. Take whatever you need. I don’t need the two of you walking back and forth through the house and splitting up. If you leave the bedroom, give us a heads up first.” He looked at Leroy. “Leroy, it looks like you’re joining the party after all. You come with me.”
“With pleasure.” Leroy stood as Ramsey leaned over and scooped up Sarah, and Hannah went into the kitchen for food and supplies.
As Ramsey stood and headed toward the back bedroom with Sarah in his arms, he stopped and looked back at his best friend and brother. “Hey, you two be careful. If you need me, holler.”
Both men faced him. “Don’t worry about us, Sherlock,” said Leroy. “You just take care of her.”
“And don’t forget what I said,” Declan responded, recalling their earlier conversation, “about compromising yourself.”
Ramsey addressed his brother’s concern. “You just do what you do and I’ll do what I do. Let’s just make sure we’re all still alive when this is done. We’ve got two more years of livin’ to do, at least.”
Hannah returned with a small bag of food and other items she’d hastily thrown together. She also had a medical bag she’d carried from the other bedroom. She spoke to Ramsey. “Okay, I’m ready.”
The four of them stood facing each other. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours held unknown secrets only time would reveal. Without realizing it, each of them reached out for the comfort of the other, not knowing when they would sense it again. The mutual feeling passed in a split second, though, as Ramsey and Hannah turned and headed for the bedroom and Leroy and Declan watched them disappear, then turned to begin their own preparations.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
* * *
ONCE INSIDE THE bedroom, Hannah closed the door and Ramsey laid Sarah on the bed. “She’s burning up,” he said to Hannah.
“I know. I’ll get some wet cloths. We need to get her temperature down.” Hannah dropped the items she was carrying on the floor and headed to the bathroom, where she soaked some towels, and she brought them back to the bed.
“Here,” she said, handing a cloth to Ramsey. “Wipe her down. Keep her cool.”
They spent the next several minutes cooling her skin, trying to reduce her fever. She remained unconscious throughout. The angry red marks remained on her skin and appeared to become even more inflamed. Ramsey’s concern grew, because the more effort they made to cool her, the worse she seemed to get. He was looking at Hannah for ideas when it occurred to him that after her bath the last two nights, Sarah had improved.
“Go run the bath,” he said to Hannah.
She gave him a questionable look but then quickly understood. She stood up and went into the bathroom, and he heard the water begin to run.
Ramsey lifted Sarah again, brought her to the tub, and placed her in it, clothes and all. They gradually let the tepid water rise until the water level reached the middle of Sarah’s chest. She stirred but did not open her eyes.
“She needs fluids.” Hannah looked at Ramsey for his opinion.
“She’s too out of it now to drink anything.”
“I could start an IV. I have the supplies in my bag.”
“No,” said Ramsey. “It could make things worse. Introducing any foreign objects into her already hyper-sensitive system could result in a reaction. I’ve seen it happen with Gray-Lines during their Shift. It could be much worse for her.”
“Or it could help her. Her system could be strong enough to handle it.”
“Too much of a risk. I say no.”
“She can’t last like this forever, Ramsey.”
“When we have no other options, I’ll consider it, but for now, we wait.”
Hannah watched him and felt his struggle. The wrong decision could kill the one person who could be their lifeline. She settled back on the floor and prepared herself to wait it out. Ramsey leaned over the tub, wet Sarah’s hair with a damp cloth, and moved it away from her face. Other than the occasional moan or labored breath, she remained still.
After an unknown period of time had passed, he too sat back against the tub and settled in. He regarded Hannah, whose face showed the fatigue he felt. “Go lie down for bit. Someone might as well get some rest.”
She looked over at him. “It’s not exactly a great time to take a nap. Unknown adversaries who wish you harm are not conducive to sleep.”
“Point taken,” he said, checking his watch.
She was contemplative for a moment before speaking again. “Why do you do this?” she asked.
Surprised by the question, Ramsey didn’t answer immediately, but when he did, his answer was simple. “Why not?”
“Come on,” Hannah said. “This is not your typical job. Why aren’t you married, raising kids, working nine to five, living the good life?”
He groaned. “Because what you just described to me is far from the ‘good life,’ as you call it. The better term might be torture. I don’t go for typical.”
“So you’re in this for the thrill of it?” she asked.
He chuckled. “There might be the occasional thrill, of course, but for the most part, I’m more often a babysitter than anything else. I primarily keep our people out of trouble.”
“And that doesn’t get boring?”
He considered the question. “No, because every case is different.” He sighed and tried to relax. “You never know what you’re going to get.”
“Like that proverbial ‘box of chocolates’?’”
He stared at his fingers. “Yes, I guess so.”
Trying to keep the energy loose, Hannah wondered aloud, “So how does one become a ‘Protector’?”
He rested his arms on his knees and stretched his shoulders. “I suppose the same way someone becomes a nurse.”
“How’s that?”
“Because I wanted to.”
She figured that was true. “But how did you know you wanted to do this? I didn’t even know there was such a thing.”
“It’s not the type of job you find on a job board, is it?”
“No, it certainly isn’t.”
“Just fell in my lap, I suppose, the way certain jobs do.”
She didn’t believe that, but she didn’t say anything.
“I’m not necessary in most Shift cases,” he continued, “only on the occasional sensitive, high-profile or more delicate ones.”
“And how do you determine those?’
“I don’t. I’m assigned, and I’m told where I’m needed.”
“And who determines that?”
Normally, the drilling would bother him, but considering their current circumstances, they had nothing else to do but talk. So he kept up the banter. “The Council, primarily. They have members skilled in the area of Shifts, and they keep an eye out for possible trouble spots. Or sometimes people come to them requesting assistance. There are protocols that are followed before a decision is made to assign a Protector.”
She rested her head against the bathroom cabinet. “I always thought Shifts were personal, that most experiences were naturally kept private, without drawing any attention.”
“That’s true with most. But even if I’m needed, it’s still private and personal. I stay out of the way as much as possible.”
/> “So how did you find yourself doing this? As you say, you don’t post it on a job board.”
He thought back to his early days. “They sought me out. Asked me if I was interested.”
“Really?” she said. “You don’t strike me as an obvious choice. No offense.”
He smirked. “I was less outspoken back then.”
“I would think so.”
“Hard to imagine, huh?”
“You could say that.”
He smiled as memories surfaced. “My grandmother put a good word in for me. She had a few friends in high places. She knew me and believed I was perfect for the job. As usual, she was right.”
She watched him as he spoke fondly of his grandmother, and she immediately pictured him as the rough, tough, and brash young man, eager to find his way in the world, but too proud to ask for help. And she pictured the grandmother who saw beneath the mask of invulnerability to the man with the kind heart, always ready to help someone in need, to jump in and fight for the underdog, despite all his attempts to prove the opposite. Hannah had observed it herself these past two days, just as she knew his grandmother had years ago.
“You’re a lucky man, John Ramsey,” she mused.
“How so?” he asked. He’d never considered “lucky” to be an accurate description of him or his past.
She eyed him with a knowing glance. “You had a grandmother who loved you and believed in you. Don’t you think that’s lucky?”
“Maybe it’s not luck,” he said, pondering the question. “Maybe it was just destiny.” He looked away, deep in thought, his mind taking him to other memories rarely remembered, and he thought of his father. If his grandmother had guided him here, then it was his father who’d shaped the man he’d become. They deserved equal praise.
Lost in their own introspections, they both sat without speaking for several minutes. After a while, Hannah considered Ramsey’s advice to go rest when the silence was suddenly shattered as Sarah let loose a garbled scream and bolted upright in the tub. They both jumped and turned to settle her down.
“Sarah!” Ramsey said. “What’s wrong?” He reached out for her, but she shied away from him. He pulled back but continued to talk soothingly. She sat up in the tub and took deep lungfuls of air, again with that faraway gaze, watching something only she could see.
Hannah kneeled behind Ramsey. “Sarah,” she asked, “can you hear us?”
Sarah did not acknowledge either of them but continued to breathe deeply, her hands gripping at the tub. Ramsey stifled the urge to reach out to her again.
“Ramsey,” said Hannah, looking down. “Look at the water.”
Ramsey had been too distracted by Sarah’s outburst to notice anything but Sarah. At Hannah’s comment, he followed her gaze.
The tub was less than half filled. He realized the water level would lower as Sarah sat up, but the tub was noticeably emptier than it had been when they’d filled it.
“Is it leaking?” he asked.
Hannah leaned over and put her hand in the water, then placed it over the drain. She was surprised at how hot the water felt. “No, it’s not leaking.” She pulled her hand out. “Where is the water going?”
They both looked at Sarah and came to the same odd conclusion at once.
“You think she’s absorbing it?” Ramsey asked Hannah.
Hannah found it hard to believe, but she could find no other explanation. “She must be. The water’s hotter, too.” Hannah made some quick deductions. “It must be why after each bath she’s seemed stronger. I didn’t notice it at the time. Her system must be able to absorb the water she needs in order to fight the heat in her body. The water in the tub is absorbing the heat. Amazing.” She sat down on the lip of the tub.
Ramsey wondered, “So what does that mean? That we leave her in the tub for the duration?”
Hannah thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“John?”
Ramsey turned his head at the mention of his name and saw Sarah looking at him. Her momentary outburst now over, her breathing had slowed and she appeared much calmer, almost serene.
“Sarah? Are you back with us?” he asked her, glad that she seemed better.
“John?” she said, her eyes softening. “Is that you?”
He smiled back at her. “Yes, it’s me, Sarah. Are you all right?”
She reached out and lightly touched his face with her wet fingers. The connection from her warm touch tingled through him, and he immediately felt himself relax. The feel of her was different, yet still strangely familiar. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but something stopped him.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, and her eyes welled up with unshed tears.
He immediately relaxed his posture and quieted his mind. He didn’t want her feeling his worry. “I’ve been here the whole time. Remember? I’m not going anywhere.”
She continued to watch him. Her hand cupped his face as her gaze traveled lovingly over him. “Do you remember?” she asked.
He was confused by her question. “Remember what, Sarah?’
Her gaze moved to his eyes, and she studied him, as if willing him to see her and hear her. “Trust destiny, John.” She held his gaze and touched his face.
His entire body froze at the words she spoke, words that he had not heard in years. Words that were eerily familiar because he’d heard them many times in his life—once from his grandmother but many times from his father.
Ramsey couldn’t speak. Nobody else knew those words or knew where they came from.
“Do you remember?”
He stared back at her as a single tear slid down her face. “Trust destiny.” She continued to cup his face with her hand, and he recognized now the energy he was feeling from her and why it was so familiar to him. His mind raced as he speculated what was happening. Who was talking to him?
“I love you.” She spoke these words as her eyes closed, her arm dropped, and she slumped forward and then back.
Ramsey caught her and laid her back against the tub before she could hurt herself. He had to control himself physically, because his hands shook from the effect of her words. Once he got her settled, he pushed back and sat with his knees up, then leaned his head back against the cabinets, trying to understand. His whole body was shaking, not just his hands.
“Ramsey? You okay?’ Hannah had watched the whole episode play out, and she knew that whatever Sarah had said had shaken him to the core. She kneeled next to him. “Hey, you still with me?”
Ramsey didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he opened them to see Hannah kneeling over him with worry.
“I don’t need two patients right now. What’s wrong?”
Ramsey righted himself and sat up. “I’m fine,” he said.
“No, you’re not. What just happened?”
Ramsey looked over at Sarah, now lying in the tub, unmoving, and breathing easily. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know.” He looked at the water level. “You should add some more water to the tub.”
She knew he didn’t want to discuss it when he stood and walked out of the bathroom. She sat and watched him leave.
Ramsey walked over to the bed and sat down. His elbows on his knees, he rested his face in his hands and replayed what Sarah had said to him. “Trust destiny.” He couldn’t believe it. His father was the only one who’d spoken those words to him as a child. Growing up, whenever Ramsey experienced anything that he didn’t like or thought was unfair, those were the words his father had used to pacify him. The phrase used to irritate him, but at some point, he had come to appreciate it. It had eventually become their catchphrase. He remembered his dad hitting a foul ball and striking out during a baseball game, resulting in a loss. Ramsey’s retort was “Trust destiny, Dad.” His dad had made a face but then laughed over it. It was one of many times the two had exchanged the saying.
In fact, he recalled as he sat on the bed, that they were the last words his father had said to him as he lay
in his hospital bed. His dad had been barely conscious, and before slipping into a coma, he had whispered to his son, who sat watchfully by the bed clutching his father’s hand, to “trust destiny” and lastly, “I love you.”
The memory of it burned Ramsey’s eyes, and he blinked back unshed tears. He took a deep breath and settled himself. He replayed the conversations in his mind, both past and present. He wasn’t sure, but he felt fairly convinced that he had just spoken to his father.
He continued to sit as he tried to collect his thoughts. He could hear the water run in the bath and then turn off. He wanted to return but didn’t feel ready. Hannah did not emerge, apparently understanding his need to be alone for a minute. He was grateful. He didn’t think he could stand up to a barrage of questions right now.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, but he gradually calmed himself. Questions and memories were still racing through his mind, though, when he heard Hannah’s voice from the bathroom.
“Uh, Ramsey?”
He heard her but didn’t respond.
After a brief pause, she spoke again. “Ramsey? Could you come in here please?”
This time her tone caught his attention. Something was upsetting her. He shoved aside his emotions with effort and headed back into the bathroom.
“What’s the matter?” he asked as he came to the doorway, stopping short when his eyes sought out Sarah. She was still lying in the tub, but now tiny bubbles were emerging and surrounding her body. They made quiet popping sounds as they hit the air on the surface. The bubbles continued to rise at a rapid rate. They rose from all around her, as if she was sitting in a jetted tub.
“Please don’t make any inappropriate comments right now,” said Hannah. They both continued to watch the bubbles rise to the surface from an unknown source.
“That’s too bad, because now is a perfect time for one,” he replied.
They both stood and continued to watch the bubble show. “What do we do now?” asked Hannah.
“That,” he replied, “is an excellent question.”