by J. T. Bishop
“Yes, you do.” Leroy fought to stay focused. “You need to hear it.” His voice broke, and he paused before he spoke again. “You’re my friend, Sherlock.”
Ramsey’s breath caught, but he stayed calm even while his heart stammered. He wanted Leroy to know he understood. “Damn it, Leroy. I know that. You’re my friend, and I’m yours. You’re the most important person in the world to me. You love me, and I love you. Blah, blah, blah. Are we done?” A tear escaped his eye and trickled down his cheek.
Leroy chuckled weakly and held Ramsey’s gaze. “I was just gonna ask you to water my plants.”
Ramsey smiled and felt his friend’s life force diminish. He thought he was familiar with pain, but in that moment, he realized that he’d barely touched the surface of it. Leroy’s fingers slowly loosened their grip on his hand, and his eyes barely stayed open.
Ramsey sensed Leroy’s other unvoiced concern. “Don’t worry about Olivia. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”
Conserving his last bit of strength, Leroy smiled with gratitude. Ramsey let the tears fall now as they gently rained on Leroy’s chest.
“You’re my friend,” Leroy barely whispered.
Unable to respond, Ramsey acknowledged him with a nod and watched as Leroy’s eyes closed and the exchange between them ended.
“He’s lost consciousness.” Hannah continued the pressure to hold Leroy’s blood in, keeping him alive as long as she could.
Declan watched the emotional display and wiped away his own tears.
Shedding her own, Hannah began to release the pressure on Leroy.
“Hannah, wait.” Sarah’s soft voice reached her before she removed her hands.
Standing on the far side of the bed, Sarah resisted the urge to recoil as the scene played out in front of her. Her sensitive nerves stretched thin as she endured the frantic force of the battle between Declan and X, Ramsey’s revenge, and X’s furious hatred. But even worse, she sensed Leroy’s intense pain and felt his life ebb as his blood seeped into the bed linens. Her heightened sensitivities acutely perceived Hannah’s intense desire to save him and Declan’s anger over the senseless loss.
But worst of all, she was overwhelmed by Ramsey’s devastation. She sensed every raw emotion in the room and it consumed her. She felt a powerful urge to run and return to the water, the life-giving water that had kept her alive to this point. She would need to return soon to regain her strength and refuel her body. Already, her energy was flagging, but she could not leave. The misery in the room, especially Ramsey’s, compelled her to stay. She ignored the warning tug to leave.
She made her decision and approached the bed, climbed up and kneeled on it, moving over toward Leroy. She didn’t have much time, so she moved fast.
Ramsey continued to hold Leroy’s hand. He paid no attention to Sarah’s actions.
Declan noticed, and so did Hannah. “Sarah, what are you doing?” Hannah asked.
“Just keep applying pressure.” Sarah sat back on her heels and put her hands on Leroy’s midsection, right above the wound. She closed her eyes and summoned the energy around her and within her, directing it through her and into her hands. She began to breathe deeply.
“Declan,” she said while focusing on Leroy, “I need help. Put your hands on him. Send him all the energy you can.”
Declan watched her and understood. “Where?” he asked, anxious to help.
“Anywhere.”
He moved forward and put his hands on Leroy’s legs, just above his knees, mustering and directing as much energy as possible and directing it into Leroy.
“Hannah, you do the same. Send him everything you’ve got.”
Knowing that nothing they could do would help Leroy, Hannah looked doubtfully between Declan and Sarah and wondered what they thought they were doing. She said nothing, though. She’d seen family members before resist the difficult truth and hope that other viable ways to save a loved one might surface. Ultimately, she knew, those hopes would be dashed. She wouldn’t stop them, though, if they wanted to try. She stayed with Leroy, knowing it would not help but guessing that it couldn’t hurt either, and sent him all the healing thoughts she could offer.
“Ramsey?” Sarah said, finally addressing him.
When he didn’t respond, she tried again. “John? He needs your help.”
Ramsey swiveled his head toward her. He wiped at his face and looked at the three of them. Understanding dawned on him. He looked at Sarah hopefully. “You think you can do this?” he asked.
She wondered that herself and told him so. “There are no guarantees. I can only try. But your energy is key. I’ll need your help.” She debated telling him the possible consequences of trying to save Leroy, but she refused to force him to make that choice.
“What?” he said. “What do I do?”
“Put one hand on his chest, the other on his head,” she answered. “Remember every happy memory with him. Remember how you met, why you like him, why he’s your friend. Remember the times you laughed together, cried together or did something stupid together, everything that makes him special. Summon every happy emotion associated with him that you can. And when you’re done, start all over again. Keep going until we know.”
Understanding her request, Ramsey did as she asked and adjusted his position on the bed so he could place his hands on Leroy. He closed his eyes and ran through every memory of Leroy in his playbook. Every individual moment he could think of, from the earliest days to the latest. He tried to be single-minded, to avoid letting too much hope creep in and distract him, but then he decided that he needed to be as hopeful as possible, and he began to imagine not just their past, but their future, too. Leroy with his wife and future kids and Ramsey with his, each of them enjoying a lifetime of friendship until they both turned old and gray, serum or no serum.
They all sat in their respective positions for several minutes, Hannah occasionally peeking out from under her lashes to see if they had reached the point of reality. When she realized they hadn’t, she returned to her post, sending happy thoughts. She wondered how much longer it would take. There was one positive note, though. Leroy was still alive, although she debated if prolonging his life served anyone at this point.
As the minutes passed, and fifteen minutes became thirty, and then forty-five, they each persevered. Sarah maintained the pull in energy and felt it gather, swirl, and strengthen within her. She reached out to Leroy, to grasp and connect with whatever tendrils of him remained. She worried he was too far gone, that he had made his decision and would not return. If she’d felt convinced of that, she would have stopped and left him on his journey. Luckily, she continued to feel the pull of his life force. She was very close to reaching him, but they had worked on him for a while and she felt her reserves begin to ebb. Yet she didn’t stop.
Finally, after sending yet another wave of energy through him, she received a small but noticeable response. Encouraged, she doubled her efforts and felt the response again, more powerfully this time. She couldn’t help but smile as the tingles raced up her arms and she felt the group’s energy coalesce within Leroy.
“What the…?” She heard Declan speak and knew he felt it too.
“John,” said Declan. “Can you feel that?”
“Feel what?” responded Ramsey.
“It’s him. It’s Leroy. I can feel him.”
“Well, of course you can, dummy. You’ve got your hands on his legs.”
Hannah chuckled at Ramsey’s remark, and Sarah felt Leroy’s energy jump at the sound. She kept up the work and felt him grow stronger.
“No, you idiot,” said Declan. “I mean his energy. Can’t you feel that?”
“Sometimes, Declan, you’re a little bit…whoa.” Ramsey felt Leroy pulse through him, felt the surge move through his hands and into his arms, and it was strong enough to stop him in mid-sentence, as if that’s exactly what it had intended to do. Declan was right. Ramsey began to realize that the attempt to save his friend was working. Somet
hing was definitely happening.
As Leroy’s energy grew strong enough to sustain his physical needs, Sarah moved her hands down and over Leroy’s wound. She felt the wetness of the blood but didn’t let it distract her.
Leroy rewarded them with a quiet moan.
“Did you hear that?” exclaimed Ramsey, moving his hands to Leroy’s shoulders. “Leroy? Can you hear me?”
Ramsey’s attention on Leroy’s recovery prevented him from observing the effects of this impromptu healing on Sarah. As she continued to work, her skin gradually lost its redness and the heat from her body faded at a rapid rate.
Hannah, doubtful of Leroy’s perceived improvement, began to wonder what effect all this energy work might begin to have on Ramsey’s primary patient. She kept an eye on Sarah as Sarah continued to work on Leroy.
Sarah, seemingly in a trance state, began to work on the deep wound in Leroy’s belly. She summoned the energy necessary to heal the torn tissues, ruptured vessels, and lost blood. Her energy continued to diminish as she neared completion. Her heat rapidly dissipating, she pushed herself to hold on a little longer.
From Hannah’s vantage point, it seemed that Sarah needed to stop. She removed her hands from Leroy and put them on Sarah, who continued working, unaware of Hannah’s touch. Hannah was shocked to find that the woman who had been too hot to touch an hour ago now felt cold.
She started to say something, when a visibly tired Sarah stopped and pulled away from Leroy. She opened her eyes and looked down at him. “Leroy,” she said with fatigue. “Can you hear me?”
Taking his cue from Sarah, Ramsey took it from there. “Leroy? Leroy?”
Curious, Hannah examined Leroy’s injury. It was still covered by the bloody towel, and she fully expected to see a gaping wound when she pulled it away. Despite the evidence that Leroy might rally at the last minute, she still did not expect him to live. She gasped when she pulled the towel away. Beneath it lay Leroy’s perfectly healed stomach, still covered in blood but now no longer gaping open as it had before. She stared in disbelief. What had happened to the wound? She looked at Sarah in wonder. How had she healed and closed it without a surgical instrument of any kind?
Declan saw the same thing when Hannah pulled the towel away. “I’ll be damned,” he exclaimed. “Look at that.”
Ramsey continued to attempt to rouse Leroy from his unconscious state. “Come on, Leroy,” he said. “Stop fooling around. Everyone knows what a big faker you are.” He watched Leroy’s eyes for any reaction.
Finally, after a few minutes, Leroy began to stir, and he rewarded Ramsey with a slow flutter of his heavy lids, which then opened. Ramsey let out a long-suppressed breath of relief as he stared in amazement at his now-conscious friend. “There you are, big guy. What are you trying to do, scare everyone?”
Groggy, but awake, Leroy mustered his own quiet retort. “Considering the way you look, you’re the one scaring everyone.”
Ramsey offered a big smile as tears of gratitude threatened to spill. He watched Leroy take in the room and the people around him, assessing the scene, and Ramsey wondered how a man who had been on his deathbed just moments before was now alive and recovering.
“What’s everyone looking so grim about?” Leroy asked.
Declan laughed as he moved closer. “Nothing, Leroy. It’s just another day at the funny farm. Glad you’re back with us.” He put a hand on Leroy’s shoulder.
Leroy blinked slowly. “I never left.” His voice was weary. “Just wandered off for a bit.” He sought out Sarah. “I think she helped me find the way.”
Thrilled at Leroy’s recovery, Ramsey grinned at his friend. “I guess she’s got some hidden talents.”
“That she does.” Leroy’s voice trailed off as he closed his eyes.
“Get some rest,” said Ramsey, seeing his friend drift off. “We’ll talk more when you’re stronger.” Ramsey watched Leroy begin to doze. He shut his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks that his friend still lived—that all of them still lived, despite the events of the past hour.
“Sarah?”
Ramsey opened his eyes at Hannah’s voice. He looked up from the bed to see Sarah bracing herself with her arm against the wall, leaving bloody stains where she touched it. She had moved off the bed after Leroy regained consciousness and now stood unmoving. She appeared shaky and dazed. Worse, she was pale.
“Sarah,” Hannah asked again. “Are you okay?”
Hannah was already off the bed and Ramsey on his way when Sarah’s knees gave way. Declan got to her first and caught her before she hit the floor. He slowly lowered her down.
Hannah reached her and felt for a pulse, then looked at Ramsey, who kneeled by Sarah’s side. “Her pulse is steady, but weak,” she told him. She felt Hannah’s skin. “She’s ice-cold, Ramsey.”
Ramsey reached out to touch her, and warning bells sounded in his head when he realized her previous heat was now completely depleted. He looked up at Hannah with guilt-ridden eyes.
“Damn it.” Ramsey’s frustration was evident. He dropped his head and sighed. “She must have known…” He stopped and looked down at Sarah, realizing then what she had done for Leroy and for him. “I’m sorry.” He spoke to her as if she could hear him. “I did this. This is my fault.” Despite his joy at Leroy’s recovery, he now berated himself for his perceived neglect. He grasped and squeezed her hand before looking back at Hannah with steely determination. He bent to pick up Sarah. “Hurry. We’ve got to get her back in the water.” He stood with Sarah in his arms. “She saved Leroy, and I’m damn well going to save her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
* * *
RAMSEY CARRIED SARAH into the adjacent bathroom. Hannah raced ahead and turned on the faucet. She made the water hot, but not too hot. She had no idea what Sarah could tolerate at this point. Her main objective was to warm Sarah up. Hopefully, her body’s defenses would kick back in and do the rest.
Ramsey laid her in the tub as the water began to rise. He sat down next to her unresponsive form, willing her to come back, waiting for some sign that she would regenerate the heat vital to her survival.
As Hannah and Ramsey tended to Sarah, Declan helped by utilizing his own talents and began the process of removing the three bodies from the house. He made a few phone calls to people who he knew could be discreet and efficient. He searched the pockets of all three but found nothing. No phones or wallets or any form of ID. Since all three bodies required identification and he wanted an autopsy, he made arrangements for them to be taken to a local medical lab run by people he knew and trusted. He moved X, Z, and the older man into the garage and covered them until their bodies could be collected.
His next job was to put the house back into some semblance of order. He found some plywood in the garage to cover the broken window in the living room, then returned the tables and chairs to their rightful places and did a quick sweep of the floor to remove the larger shards of glass. He checked on Leroy to ensure he continued to rest comfortably. Declan worked to keep his mind off Sarah. He knew she had risked her life to save all of them, and now he prayed that her life could be saved as well.
Within the hour of making the call, two members of his security team arrived to remove the bodies. Declan met them at the garage door and helped move the remains into a waiting van. He talked to one of the men before they drove away to ensure his instructions were clear. He did not call Morgana. He decided he would wait for Leroy’s input before that phone call was made. He also wanted to see if Sarah’s condition improved. When he looked at his watch, he was surprised to see that almost three hours had passed since he’d begun his clean up. He went inside to check on Ramsey and Hannah’s progress.
The scene in the bathroom did not encourage him. Ramsey sat on the floor by the bathtub as he held Sarah’s hand. Hannah ran the water off and on in order to keep it as warm as possible. Sarah appeared no different than before. She was unresponsive and very pale. Her hair hung limply around her face, and her
eyes remained closed. She no longer emanated the vibrant energy that Declan had previously felt from her.
“Sarah?” Ramsey tried again to rouse her. “Sarah, come on. Can you hear me?” His voice sounded strained, and Declan sensed his distress.
“Ramsey.” Hannah tried to get his attention. “The water’s gone cold.” When he didn’t reply to her, she tried again. “Ramsey. We can’t keep her in here. This is doing more damage than good. We have to take her out.” Hannah’s fatigued voice finally seemed to reach him, and he looked up at her.
He glanced down at the water and put his fingers in it. His face clouded, and he closed his eyes, then opened them again. He looked down at Sarah’s colorless, unresponsive features and then turned back to Hannah.
“Okay,” he said, “go pull the sheets off the master bed and put some new ones on. There should be some clean ones in the linen closet.” Hannah, grateful for something else to do, began to rise. Ramsey continued. “We also need to clean that bathroom floor in there. Clean up the shards of mirror, in case we…” He paused. “No, when we need to use that bathtub again.”
Hannah said nothing. She nodded and left the bathroom.
Declan could tell his stepbrother was on the edge. Ramsey’s last twenty-four hours had been a mix of extreme highs and lows. That mix, combined with little sleep and no food except for a few bites of cold eggs that morning, was taking its toll on him.
“John?” Declan asked.
Ramsey did not respond. He continued to sit with Sarah, as if willing her to come back.
“John.” He tried again. “Why don’t you let me sit with her for a while? Go take a break. Check in on Leroy.”
At the sound of Leroy’s name, Ramsey finally seemed to acknowledge him. He glanced up at Declan, who was startled when he saw the anguish in his brother’s eyes.
“How’s is he?” Ramsey asked him.
“He’s fine. You should go look in on him. Take a break for a while. I’ll stay with Sarah.” Declan hoped he would agree.
Ramsey sighed as he looked at Sarah and then back at Declan. He ran his fingers though the water again and watched the ripples travel over the surface. He sat up slowly, leaned in, and placed his arm into the water and unplugged the drain. The water began to empty, and Ramsey’s face conveyed his dwindling hope that Sarah would regain the strength she’d lost.