Impact

by Steven Whibley

  It didn’t matter what anyone did. I knew it. I could tell by the way Archer had looked at me that he knew it, too. Mrs. Yamada was dead. I’d seen this same thing happen when my neighbor had died. I’d had a chance. The moment was there, and all I had to do was act at the right time. I’d been too late … once again.

  Shivering, I wanted to yell that I had been with Mrs. Yamada. I thought I’d found the right one. Glancing over, I saw she seemed fine. She was watching the scene, one hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes bright with tears. We’d missed the person we’d come here to save.

  I’d missed her.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned to see Colin watching me, his face pale and his hair plastered to his head. “C’mon,” he said in an urgent whisper.

  I glanced at the dead woman. People in uniforms had taken over the CPR from Colin. They put her on a stretcher. Wires ran from a machine in a red bag to sticky pads attached to her chest—a defibrillator that jump-starts hearts.

  “Now!” Colin said, hissing the word into my ear.

  He was right. We had to go before someone started asking us questions. The CS had to stay a secret. I dropped the towel, and Colin pulled me back the way I’d come, away from the dead woman and the people still trying to save her. Lisa fell into step with us. We followed Archer to a gate in a back fence that led around to the parking lot. We trudged to his car and stood outside of it as he jogged the dozen meters to the valet to get his keys. Even in the hot sun, I kept shivering.

  Colin squeezed water out of his hair. He looked at me. “What the heck happened? I got your text to Archer, too, Dean. You said you had her. You said you were with Mrs. Yamada.”

  “I was.” I shook my head. “I was with her.”

  “You were with a Mrs. Noriko Yamada,” Archer said as he jogged back and unlocked the doors. “Not the Mrs. Noriko Yamada. I’d only just discovered there was more than one woman at this one hotel with that name after you texted me.”

  “But we got her in time, right?” Colin asked. “I am sure I was in the water before the time ran out.”

  “Is that true?” Lisa asked, her tone practically begging for it to be true. Her eyes seemed really big, and red rimmed the edges. “Is she going to make it?”

  Archer stared at me. “You connected with her somehow, didn’t you? You touched her.”

  I nodded and hunched one shoulder. “I must’ve bumped into her in the lobby or … or at some point.”

  Archer blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “So, you experienced the second warning? You lost color vision just before it happened?”

  “Hey, Dean’s the reason I even saw her,” Colin said. “You pointed her out.”

  I took a breath. Held it. Let it out. I had to say something, but I just wanted to crawl into the car and get away from here. “I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.”

  Lisa hugged her arms around herself. “She’s going to make it. I know it. The paramedics got here right away. They had stuff to save her.” As if to back up her words, an ambulance screamed past us, leaving the hotel parking lot. “See. If she was dead, they wouldn’t bother with sirens. They wouldn’t be speeding.”

  Archer turned and stared at the ambulance. I think he was thinking the same thing I was. Sure, they’re speeding. Sure, they’re still trying to save her. They’d go on trying, but it wouldn’t do any good. I’m not sure how long we stood there, but my T-shirt dried. My jeans still clung to my legs, wet and stiff. I reeked of chlorine. So did Colin. No one said anything. Lisa turned away, sniffing, her head bowed. I heard Colin swear under his breath, using words that my mom would have told him he shouldn’t know.

  It was times like this that I actually wished we could tell Dr. Mickelsen about the visions. The thought of therapy reminded me we were supposed to go to the museum at some point. None of that really seemed to matter right now.

  “Let’s go,” Archer said at last. He opened the driver’s door, but a battered yellow Volkswagen pulled up across the front of Archer’s Honda.

  Archer closed his door and stepped forward.

  Two men got out of the Volkswagen. The younger guy with the long hair, the black polo shirt, and the expensive designer jeans looked like Nathan, the guy we’d seen in the video. He pulled off his sunglasses and glanced at us, his eyes narrowed. The other guy, with short, gray hair, looked way older than Archer. Sunlight glared off his button-down white shirt. The older guy tugged at his chino pants like he had the belt too tight. “We heard the sirens. What happened?”

  Archer didn’t say anything, but the look on his face must’ve said, “She’s dead.” The older man locked his fingers behind his head and turned away, muttering angrily.

  The younger guy, Nathan, walked over to us and stopped right in front of me. “You must be Dean.”

  He said it like he was measuring up my name, or maybe me.

  I glanced at Colin and then Lisa. They both stared at Nathan, Colin looking wary and Lisa rubbing at her red eyes. I looked at Nathan again but I couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Did he think I had stolen something that should have been his? He had a narrow face and pale blue, close-set eyes. He smiled at me. He held out his hand. “I’m Nathan Headwell. I hoped we’d all be meeting up to celebrate a save.”

  Reluctantly, I shook his hand.

  He gestured to the man he’d arrived with. “This is Hank Fallston.”

  Hank whirled back around, taking a few steps until he stood in front of Archer. “We all saw Dean’s text to you. He said he had Mrs. Yamada. What happened?”

  Archer shook his head and said, his voice dropping low, “Hank, we can do this during debriefing.”

  I stepped forward. “I had the wrong Yamada. I’m sorry.” My voice sounded weak and that bothered me. Weak wasn’t the impression I wanted to give to these people.

  Everyone stared at me. Nathan folded his arms and seemed to be studying me again, his head tipped to one side. Hank narrowed his eyes, and I could see the pulse jumping in his hard jaw.

  Archer glanced at me. “Dean, you don’t need to apologize. And you don’t need to talk about this right now, either. It happens. It’s regrettable, but I told you before that these kinds of missions can be tough. This one was especially challenging.”

  “You don’t call everyone else off unless you are one hundred percent certain you have the right person.” Hank slashed the air with his hand. “This is why kids have no place in the CS!”

  Archer stepped between me and Hank. “Dean has done a good job so far. He’s still learning. There were two women here who had the exact same name. How could he know that? Dean did good.”

  “Good?” Hank gave a short, barking laugh. “According to you? Archer, that kid has broken laws. He doesn’t seem to even know what a rule is for!”

  “He and his friends have saved lives.”

  “And trashed a museum. They’re irresponsible. They’re more interested in becoming thieves and hoodlums than saving lives. You want to mentor kids? You think they should be members of the CS? You want to bend rules until they break? That kind of approach is going to cost us lives, lives we could have saved. Today only proves my point!”

  “Today could have happened to anyone in the CS.”

  Hank leaned forward, his hand lifted threateningly. But he glanced at us and motioned Archer to go with him. He moved to the far side of the yellow Volkswagen where we couldn’t hear what they might say. Archer glanced at us, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and followed Hank. I watched as Hank turned red while he ranted at Archer, his face tight and his words just an angry muttering carried away by the breeze.

  I glanced at Nathan, who leaned against Archer’s car, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Why does Archer take that from Hank?”

  Nathan lifted his eyebrows. “Hank’s one of the most senior members of the CS. Archer better listen to him. Hank is Archer’s boss’s boss. But Archer is right, guys. This happens. When I was mentoring with Vidmar, he u
sed to get upset over every fail. Maybe not as upset as Hank, but pretty close. I’m sure you’ll learn how to better use your gift as you go along. It’s tough being in the CS.”

  “We heard you were Vidmar’s apprentice,” Colin said. He folded his arms as though waiting for Nathan to say something.

  In a voice barely over a whisper, Lisa said, “I’m sorry he died.”

  Nathan flashed her a warm smile. “Thanks. That’s kind of you. But Vidmar knew his days were numbered. He was getting tired. Getting sloppy.”

  I remembered seeing Vidmar’s hospital record when we’d visited him. It was as thick as a textbook and I still remembered how the notations seemed to indicate the doctors thought Vidmar was mentally unstable and possibly suicidal. They’d had it wrong, of course. It appeared that way because Vidmar had put himself in dangerous situations to save lives. But I wondered if maybe Nathan wasn’t wrong. Maybe there was a psychological toll. There was obviously a physical one.

  Nathan turned, and it felt like he was looking right through me. But his mouth edged up in a crooked smile. “Listen, Dean, I don’t know what you might expect, or what you’ve heard.” He glimpsed over to Archer and then back at me. “No hard feelings, right? I wasn’t there, and I’m glad Vidmar passed his gift to someone. It would have been doubly tragic if it had died with him. I hope you don’t think I’m the kind of jerk who expects the world to revolve around him and I’m going to go all evil-villain on you just because I was cheated out of a gift that had just about been promised to me.”

  He made the words really dramatic as he said them so the whole idea sounded silly. I wondered how I would feel if I lost the gift now. Or if I’d been waiting for it for years.

  I shrugged. I had no idea what to say to him, so I just stood there.

  The engine of the Volkswagen roared. Nathan pushed off the hood of Archer’s car. “My cue to go. See you around.”

  He strolled over to the vehicle and got in. It zoomed off, leaving us all choking on the fumes. Archer walked to his car and climbed in, his lips pressed into a thin line. We all got in, too, slipping back into our same seats and buckling up.

  I thought about when I’d first been contacted by the CS and how grateful I was to find out that it wouldn’t just be me, Lisa, and Colin trying to deal with my visions. I’d thought back then that at least people wouldn’t die anymore because I was too inexperienced to know how to react. My stomach twisted. It seemed that wasn’t the case.

  Archer started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, driving slow now. “You have my apologies for everything you just witnessed. Hank Fallston doesn’t handle failure well. And he has some old-fashioned views about how things should be done. If he had his way, we’d dump all our technology and travel in the old teams we used to have, trying to do everything with just touch. ”

  “He’s not wrong about some things,” I said, thinking how he had blamed me for making mistakes.

  “He is, Dean.” Archer said as a smile came back into his eyes. “How could any of us have known there’d be more than one Mrs. Yamada? And what if you hadn’t sent that text message? Do you think everything would have worked out differently?”

  I peered down at my drying jeans and rubbed a finger against them. “I don’t know. That’s the problem, isn’t it? How can I not wonder? If I hadn’t been so quick to text …” I stared out the car window at the traffic around us.

  Colin leaned forward from the backseat. “What if she had been the right Yamada? The lady you found? What if you hadn’t sent that text? What if … what if? You get a headache trying to think about all the stuff that could have happened and didn’t. We did the best we could. We came so close. That’s what hurts.”

  Keeping his eyes on the road, Archer said, “Dean, if you really wanted to, you could gift your vision away. You can give it once without anything happening to you, but the second time you gift it, it’s gone. You’ll be free of the visions, of the Society, of everything.”

  “Dean,” Lisa said softly, “you could be free of it. Free of the visions.”

  Archer nodded. “Yes, but you have to be careful. This gift in the wrong hands could be a disaster. Someone could use the gift to force people to pay money in order to be saved. It’s one reason why the CS works so hard to try and make sure the gift is given to only those who are prepared to receive the gift.”

  “I wasn’t prepared.”

  “All the more reason why you want to take your time with deciding how to use the gift. Vidmar saw something in you, or he wouldn’t have gifted it to you. I don’t think he acted just because he was dying. I think you came to his aid, and he knew he could trust you. That needs to be respected. But when people give up the gift, it’s usually right away. Right after the first vision. Or it’s when they become very old and can’t get the job done. Or it’s …” Archer’s face twisted like he was thinking about something painful. He shook his head. “The point is it’s a very big deal. Getting the gift and giving it. The gift … it’s worse than giving away an arm or a leg. It’s more like gifting part of you. It can be a terrible loss that you never get over. You have to be certain what you want.”

  I blurted the words out. “I’m not giving anything away. At least … not right now.”

  Archer smiled and eased back in his car seat. I thought he seemed to like my response. “Then let’s have you meet more of the CS.”

  We stopped for food on the way back to Abbotsford. It was still a bit early for lunch, and I didn’t have an ounce of appetite, but Archer insisted and bought everyone a burger, fries, and a soda. I sat with mine in my lap as we drove. When I checked the back, Lisa was sitting with her arms crossed, staring out the window. Colin was tearing into his food, and Archer ate casually as he drove.

  “You seemed pretty comfortable in the water, Colin,” Archer said, no doubt trying to ease the tension that practically crackled in the car.

  Around muffled bites, Colin said, “Two years junior lifeguard. Never thought I’d use it. My dad thought it’d be a fun summer job for me and wanted me to learn the basics.”

  “For all the good it did,” Lisa muttered.

  “That’s it,” Archer said. He tossed his half-eaten burger back into the white bag between us. He looked over at me and then into the rearview mirror at Lisa. “If you don’t learn how to handle failure, you’re never going to make it in the CS. I know it’s hard, and I want to be patient and help, but you’re looking at it wrong.” He turned his gaze on Colin. “You seem to be handling it better. Why do you think that is?”

  I heard Colin drain his Coke. “Uh … well? I guess it’s because I figure it’s like this. We’re doing the impossible. If Dean didn’t get a vision, that person’s dead anyway. Right? Even with a vision, that person’s still as good as dead if something doesn’t change. We’re kind of fixing things that shouldn’t happen, but it’s impossible to fix everything.”

  Archer nodded. “That’s a good way to look at it.”

  “It probably helps, too, that I’ve been watching people die on movie sets since before I was out of diapers. This is a lot like … well, like a video game reset button. It’s a second chance, isn’t it?”

  Turning in my seat, I stared at him. “No. It’s not like that. This isn’t Halo. And I can’t pretend it is.”

  “Neither can I,” Lisa said.

  Anger tore into me, burning in my throat. “I hear the screams of the people I see in visions. They’re not screams of fear. It’s as if they’re desperate for someone to save them. They’re begging for help. I see it in their eyes. I feel it!” Turning away from Colin, I muttered, “You don’t know.”

  Beside me, Archer said, his voice soft, “I know it. And you’re right. That’s exactly how it sounds. And, even so, sometimes we fail. People die. But you know what, Dean? If you don’t get past taking that risk of failure, you’re going to stop trying to succeed. You won’t be able to move on. You won’t be able to face your next vision. Or the one after that. The bodies will stil
l pile up, and before you know it, you’ll be used up and done.”

  He nodded ahead of us even though there weren’t any other cars in sight. “That’s Hank’s problem. He has a hard time with failure. And he doesn’t think someone as young as you can handle it. If he had his way, the only people with the gift would be battle-hardened soldiers. And that would be a problem because the CS needs different views and unique talents. We need people who can handle the failures as well as the successes and who do not let either of those things interfere with their ability to act.”

  I nodded, but even though I heard what he was saying, it didn’t fill that empty hole inside me. Mrs. Yamada felt too much like Mr. Utlet, my former neighbor who had been shot right in front of me. He’d died because I didn’t act. But I’d acted to try and save Mrs. Yamada, and I hadn’t made a difference. How did I get past that?

  “So now what?” Colin asked, sounding way too cheerful. I knew he was just trying to make everyone feel better.

  “I’d like to go home,” Lisa said, her voice really small.

  “Sorry. You need to debrief. We talk about the mission. We discuss what went wrong and how to learn from it. We debrief successful missions too, so it’s something to get used to.”

  “It sounds like our therapy sessions,” Colin said.

  Archer smiled. “Uh, probably less touchy-feely.”

  I heard the rustle of a bag as Colin stole Lisa’s fries, and probably her burger. “Oh, the one thing missing from our sessions with Mickelsen is a hug at the end. Maybe we should ask him about more group hugs.”

  Colin kept going about how great it would be to see Dr. Mickelsen hug Rodney, who we all agreed probably hadn’t ever had a hug in his life. He showed how Mickelsen’s arms wouldn’t reach around Rodney. That pulled a weak laugh from Lisa and even a smile from me.

  Archer turned off the highway. I took a pull of my Coke, peered out the windshield, and blinked. My mouth fell open. Gray shafts of light broke through gray clouds that cast gray shadows around us. “The trees are the same color as the street,” I muttered.