Halos

by Kristen Heitzmann

  Explaining the pact had made him wonder all over again. Who had the most to lose? Carl. Who’d acted strangely—Carl. Maybe Alessi’s likeness to his mother was not a discounting factor but a mitigating one. He wished he knew more about that incident. If Carl harbored rage and feelings of betrayal …

  Steve knew well enough how destructive those emotions could be. Dad had worked him through so much. Carl was eleven when she disappeared and his father was killed. Pastor Welsh had taken him in, and all those under the pact were committed to his welfare. Redeeming Carl had become their hope. A life saved, for the one that was lost.

  Now Steve wondered. Should he speak to Burton Welsh? Tell him his concerns? Could the man look at it impartially—or would he reject the scenario that could mean the crumbling of all he’d built?

  Alessi trudged along the route they had traveled to Wal-Mart. At least the wind had almost stopped and there was a moon to light her way. A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away with her shoulder. With her gone, Charity could go back to how it was. The one who took her car would not be found out, and no one would have to face the truth of it.

  No doubt what had happened had been horrible. She understood the pastor’s position. His own wife had been killed. Maybe there’d been no way to prove it, but he must have known who was to blame. He might have seen what followed as just retribution. Who could blame him?

  And then he’d made it right for Charity. Bound them together in spirit and purpose—until she’d come and ruined it all.

  Who’d have thought her little car could cause so much trouble? If she had known it would come to this, she’d have begged a ride to Chambers City and started from scratch. She wouldn’t have come to know the people of Charity: Karen and Diana, so warm and fun loving. Mary and her little girls, finding happiness at last with Ben. Dave always pulling something from the shelf for her to eat or filling a cup with chocolate.

  And Steve—that hurt too much for words. Maybe the dream was just a dream. She put too much stock in signs and wonders. If the halo wasn’t real, why would the dream be? She could ignore it and imagine … No, she couldn’t. She’d lost the capacity.

  She pressed her eyes shut against fresh tears, too many years’ worth. She felt ancient. Her fingers ached from cold, her heart from loneliness and rejection. She’d been walking at least an hour. If she sat down in the trees on the side of the road would she freeze to death, simply fall asleep and drift away?

  Would that be taking her life? Or letting God have it? But she kept on, step after step, until she heard a car. Steve? She looked quickly for a place to hide, then told herself no. She kept walking.

  The engine revved, and she spun at the familiar tone. Her Mustang zoomed up alongside and skidded to a stop. The driver pushed the button to lower the passenger-side window. It was dim inside, but she made out … the pastor’s son? Her stomach clutched. No mask, no ice water or rotted skull, but dread filled her. It wasn’t Steve. He had only helped. But she’d left him sleeping.

  Carl leaned. “Want a ride?” In her own car?

  “No thanks.” She started walking, stepping into the snow alongside the road. It does not matter. Let it go.

  “Arf, arf, arf.”

  Horror shot through her as the image of the poor dog’s skull imprinted. She trembled. Would he run her over? But he gassed the car and zoomed past. She stared until the lights were out of sight around a bend. He was ahead of her now.

  She stopped walking. What should she do? She knew who it was now. She could give the sheriff a name. And get her car back? She looked back toward Charity. She must be more than two miles out, long past shouting distance.

  Steve tossed. Sleep was better than brooding, but it wouldn’t return. He sat up, tossed off the blankets, and stood. He looked around the room, then walked down the hall. Dave’s snores proved at least one of them had accessed his REM sleep. He hoped Alessi had too. He would just peek, make sure she was fine. If she couldn’t sleep, they’d talk, try to find a solution. He knocked softly, then turned the knob to Alessi’s door.

  The room was dark, and he opened the door farther. He couldn’t see her in the bed. It seemed too square and flat. He stepped in, crept closer. He reached. The bed was empty.

  He searched the room in the dark, then flicked on the light. She wasn’t there. Only folded clothes and cash lying on the bed. No! He rushed out of the room, fumbled for his shoes. How long since he’d heard something? An hour? More? She had run out, left on foot rather than …

  He banged Dave’s and Ben’s doors. “Get up, guys! She’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Ben threw his covers off while Dave stumbled into the hall.

  “Gone where?”

  Steve grabbed his coat and keys. “I’ll check the store.” He could only hope as he ran for his truck. Maybe she’d gone there, just needing to be alone or … sleep on the cot instead of his more comfortable bed. Then why leave the money? Still, he checked there first. But the storeroom was empty, as he’d known it would be.

  He swung back by the house for the guys. “She can’t have gone far.”

  “But which way?” Dave rubbed his head.

  “I don’t know.” Steve swallowed. “Dave, take your truck and check the highway. She might try to hitch a ride.”

  “In the middle of Christmas Eve night?” But Dave headed for the garage.

  Steve climbed back into the truck. “Let’s go, Ben.” He grabbed the gearshift and headed toward Chambers City. “Look for footprints.” He doubted anyone else had tramped off through the drifts formed earlier by the wind. Would she take cover if she heard him? She obviously didn’t trust him to help. The thought sobered him.

  Why should she? He’d repeatedly stabbed her underbelly. After his behavior today she’d need an antidote. He hadn’t intended to scare her off, but that’s exactly what he’d done. He sure did have a way with women. He smacked his steering wheel. Ben glanced up but said nothing.

  Alessi walked doggedly back toward Charity, though fear crawled up her spine. Too soon she heard the sound she had dreaded and turned into the glare of headlights. He gunned the engine. She stiffened, ready to dive. Just before she lunged, he slammed the breaks and cranked the wheel, spinning right beside her and jerking to a stop. Snow flew into her face.

  He leaned toward the open window again. “Get in. I’ll take you for a spin.”

  She backed away. “Leave me alone. You have the car.”

  He jerked it into park. She started running before his door was open but heard him coming behind. Her legs were long, and fear compelled her. But she could hear his breath puffing as he closed the gap. He was big.

  Lord, help me! It struck her that she didn’t want to die, not like this, like the dog whose skull had made her think crazy things. He grabbed her, crashing to the ground on top of her. Her face dug into the snow, filling her mouth and nose. She sputtered and spit, writhing under his weight. He bent her arm and wrenched it back.

  She tried to throw him off, but he increased the pressure and the pain. It would break! She stopped fighting. “What do you want? Leave me alone.”

  “Oh no.” He stroked the snow from her cheek, slowly pulling her arm tighter, bringing pain she couldn’t hide. “You’re the one who does that.”

  Does what? What was he saying? “Please.”

  “I saw your letter.”

  “What letter?”

  He jerked her arm and a searing pain filled her shoulder. “You should have stayed dead.” With his other hand he ground her face into the snow.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs burned and screamed for air. She thrashed, but he pressed his knee into her spine and jerked her head back by her hair.

  She gasped a breath before he smashed it down again, laughing. “Let me hear you beg. Arf, arf. Don’t chop my head off.”

  Oh, God!

  He jerked her up and rolled her over, cramming his knee into her belly. Again she couldn’t breathe, though her airways were freed.

 
“Let me hear it. Arf, arf.”

  She gasped, grabbing at his leg, then aimed a swing at his crotch.

  He dodged and caught both arms, pressing them down into the snow. “For that, it’ll be slow.” He ground his knee harder, jammed it into her solar plexus.

  Her diaphragm froze. Her head grew thick. Mom and Dad in heaven. She’d have a place there. But he lifted his knee, and her breath returned with a sucking groan.

  He laughed. “Now you know what it was like. To be left with him.” Her chest heaved with panicked breaths. She wanted to cry out, but no words would come. She heard a car, something louder, bigger than her Mustang. He heard it, too, and with a look of pure evil closed his hands around her throat. She arched and thrashed, but his knee pressed in with all his weight and kept her pinned. Her senses paled. Why were her hands twitching?

  Steve caught the red Mustang in his headlights and it all became clear. The car was real; Alessi was real. He’d believed, but not viscerally, as he did now. Something moved, a dark form on the side of the road.

  It separated, and part rose up into a man running. The other part didn’t move.

  Steve jammed on the brakes, shoved the gearshift into neutral and set the brake, then lurched out as Carl ran for the Mustang. Every killer instinct said chase him down, but he ran instead to Alessi on the side of the road. She lay like a discarded mannequin, and he dropped down beside her. “Alessi.”

  She wasn’t breathing. No! He grabbed her up into his arms and shook her. “Alessi!”

  “I don’t think I will grow old. I think both parents dying early is a sign, like a warning for me.” He clutched her tight as the awful ache grew inside.

  The light was more beautiful than any she’d ever seen, aglow with colors she couldn’t name, yet at the same time whiter than white. A longing so deep, a surety of love unsurpassed drew her forward, up and away from the fragile shell that had held her. She no longer needed it. She was lighter than air, swifter than wind. And love encompassed her, touching the places she’d been pierced with light like fire that sealed them shut and made them whole.

  Nothing mattered anymore, nothing hurt. She soared, she flew, carried on balmy air, yet she didn’t need lungs to draw it in. The horror of not breathing left her. It was all right now. Nothing marred the perfect peace surrounding her. No sorrow, no fear. Yet she was alone. She searched the light, but though it seemed a tangible presence, it was at the same time empty of form. She was alone.

  Thirty-Two

  LET HER GO!” BEN WRENCHED HER from his arms and pressed her to the ground, shoving Steve out of the way. He watched, desperation mounting as Ben pressed his mouth to hers. Didn’t he realize it was too late? They were too late. Ben puffed and pressed as the moments passed. Was her windpipe crushed? Was there internal injury?

  Tears burned Steve’s cheeks, and he wanted to punch Ben and scream “Leave her alone!”

  A faint sucking wheeze. Air passing through her throat? Steve pressed in as Ben raised his face from hers. More wheezing. Not normal breath. But she was alive. Steve caught up her limp body. He chafed her face. “Alessi.”

  No response. Her skin was freezing, but she didn’t shiver.

  “Get her in the truck,” Ben said. “I’ll drive.”

  Steve grabbed her up into his arms and carried her to the truck, terror making him strong. Ben opened the door, and Steve slid into the seat with her still limp in his arms. She might be breathing, but it was not right. Ben ran around to his side and jammed the truck into gear.

  “Chambers City,” Steve rasped, though why he was giving directions was beyond him. Ben was the one thinking clearly. Steve had given up the moment he saw her lying there. The Chambers City hospital was small but the best they had. And there was at least one doctor he trusted. The woman who had seen his father through his last days. Was he bringing Alessi there to die? Lord, no. He clutched her tighter as Ben drove. Hang on, Alessi. Hang on.

  Ben pulled up to the emergency entrance, left the truck running, and burst inside. Moments later the staff rushed out with him, and Steve surrendered her. They laid Alessi on a gurney and rolled her into the hospital, though she still showed no response. Steve stayed beside her as an IV was inserted, and he considered it God’s hand when Dr. Liz Deklin came in.

  He clenched his hands and blurted, “She was attacked and strangled. She’s breathing, but it’s not right.”

  The nurse handed over the chart with Alessi’s vitals. Dr. Deklin ordered a respirator. Steve paced. A respirator was not good news, but in Alessi’s condition … He glanced at Ben, thanking God one of them thought positively. Where he had assumed the worst, Ben had taken action. Steve kicked himself. He was the ranger; he had the training. But when it came right down to it, he’d collapsed.

  “Steve.” Dr. Deklin laid a hand on his arm. “Go out to the waiting room.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  “I need to assess her condition.” She pushed him out of the cubicle after Ben. They found their way to the waiting area. A vanilla-scented candle muted the antiseptic smell of hospital and fear.

  Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Ben, I—”

  “Good thing you woke up when you did.”

  Steve stared at him. Sure, he’d played a part, getting them out to search. But Ben had saved her life. “You got her breathing. I thought she was gone.”

  Ben nodded. “I thought so too.”

  But he’d acted anyway. Steve pressed a hand to his eyes and rubbed his face. “You kept your head.”

  “I’m not as close to it.”

  What did that mean? But he knew. He wasn’t hiding anything from Ben. If he loved her, why wasn’t he the one to give her breath? He’d assumed she would be taken away. He always assumed the worst. What reason did he have not to?

  Ben said, “I’m gonna call Dave. He’ll be wondering.”

  Steve tried to focus on his words. Dave. Was he still driving the highway looking for her? Or had he gone back to the house? It didn’t matter. Steve paced the small room, waiting. What could take so long? Dr. Deklin was treating Alessi’s injuries. He had to be patient.

  Ben spoke into the phone on the corner table. “Dave? Alessi’s been hurt. We’re at the Chambers City Hospital.”

  A pause, then, “She’s hurt real bad.”

  Steve snatched the phone. “Call Cooper and tell him … it’s Carl.” Steve hung up, shaking. He had guessed Carl and had been too weak to act on it, too insecure to believe his own intuition.

  “Don’t go there, Steve. No one expected this.” Steve shook him off. “Why not?”

  Ben tucked his chin. “We’re just ordinary folks.”

  That didn’t excuse it. He should have known. Somehow. He went to the machine and got a cup of coffee.

  Two bitter cups later, the doctor came out. Her face was grim. He did not want to see her face so grim. Her hair was soft gray curls around a square jaw, and her indistinct blue-green eyes were carefully guarded.

  “Well?” Steve said.

  “If there was something surgically or even neurologically that could be done, we would airlift her to a bigger hospital.”

  He nodded. They could take Alessi anywhere as long as they helped her. Then he realized she had said if. Cold dread crept through his limbs.

  “I’m sorry. She was too long without oxygen.”

  He was suddenly airless himself. Dave rushed in as the doctor continued to speak.

  “There is very little brain activity, only the most basic functions. We intubated her before we knew the full extent of the injury, or I might not have.”

  Steve stared into her face. “Is she going to make it?”

  She laid a hand on his arm. She had to have something more useful to tell him. “We’ve made her as comfortable as we can.”

  She’d spoken those very words about his dad when there was nothing more they could do. But Dad had been seventy-three with hypertension and a weak heart, not a young woman with her whole life ahead. No
t Alessi, who hadn’t even seen it coming, who had no resistance to cruelty. Not the madcap, crazy-haired girl who wanted to see his waterfall.

  Dave looked from him to Ben, not comprehending the awful news he’d walked in on.

  Steve squeezed his empty cup. “So what do we do?” The doctor must have some plan, some go-ahead formula.

  Dr. Deklin studied him. “It may require a decision, but I doubt it.” Decision? What decision?

  “I think she will drift away.”

  That penetrated. He’d imagined her drifting away ever since she came. But not like this. Forever but not … from life. He swallowed the pain in his throat. It didn’t matter that Ben had made her breathe. She would still drift away.

  Dr. Deklin had a hint of medicinal halitosis, a scent he associated with his father’s death and which he supposed would now be part of his memories of Alessi. “You can see her in a few minutes.” She squeezed his arm and included the others in her glance. “I’ve alerted the police. They’ll want a statement.”

  And he would give it, the pact be damned.

  After the doctor left, Dave cleared his throat. “What happened?”

  Steve’s voice had rusted. “She left.” That was the crux of it. She had walked out.

  Dave shook his head. “Why would she leave?”

  And then the searing started. There was a reason, always a reason. He just couldn’t ever find it. Why did his mother leave? The strain of a two-year-old? Regrets about marrying a man twice her age? Poison coursed, then passed. Had she been broken herself? Confused, insecure, unstable? He would never know. Might never know Barb’s reason either.

  She had said she felt stifled in the backward town. Hated the way people looked at her. He’d been so focused on keeping his word to his father, grieving the few moments they’d shared before his death. Maybe she left because he pulled away.

  Ben said, “We can go in now.”

  They went into the ICU cubicle where Alessi lay with a machine breathing for her and wires attached to her head. Steve clenched his hand, wanting to smash something.