Taking Angels (The Angel Crusades) (5 page)

Lying in bed staring at the dark ceiling as the
events of the day played out in my mind, I couldn’t help
but feel joy over healing those patients today. I possessed
the ability to heal people. Even as the thought of killing
people in my dreams pressed to outweigh the good I’ve
now discovered possible, I smiled at the pleasure I felt at
counteracting such evil with such good. But I needed to
be smart about this. I needed to be careful not to push
myself too far. I stared at the scar on my arm. Really
careful.

The next morning I hurried down the stairs
 
running on pure adrenaline after not sleeping a minute
last night, but having a solid grasp at what I needed to do.
Sliding to stop in my stocking feet and oversized t-shirt
as mom sat at the island drinking coffee and reading the
morning paper, she looked up at me curiously and smiled.

“I know what I want to do for the rest of the
summer,” I announced.
“Hang out with your friends and shop?”
“No, volunteer at the hospital.” I stretched out my
arms gesturing grandly.
“After yesterday I thought the hospital was the
last place you wanted to spend time.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been giving it a lot of
thought…”
“You’ve spent so much of your life there already,”
Mom cut me off. “Maybe you should think about it some
more.”
I nodded at her reasoning. It would make sense to
someone who didn’t know what I could do. I lowered my
eyes, glancing at the front page of the paper as it lay on
the island and read the headline.

The picture below the headline stopped my heart
as the eyes of the man from the alley in my dream the
night before gazed back at me. My heart started up again
and raced, threatening to leap from my chest.

A killer. I was a killer. Not just in my dreams, but
for real.
“Britt, what is it dear?” Mom reached over and
touched my arm.
I recoiled from as if her touch burnt my flesh, my
eyes unable to pull away from the accusing eyes of my
victim.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I looked up to see worry fill her eyes and line her
forehead.
“No, I don’t want to think about it,” I said my
voice soft but determined. “I want to volunteer at the
hospital today.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod. “I’ll make some
calls.”
She stood and walked out as I turned back to the
paper, scanning the article and sighing with relief at no
mention of murder or an assailant. At least no one knew
about me. Was that good? Maybe I should turn myself in?
Maybe that was the only way to stop me from killing.
“Yeah, right,” I said with a laugh. They wouldn’t
believe me anyway. How could a girl give a guy a heart
attack?
Mom came back into the kitchen and sat down,
reaching over to take her cup and draw a long drink of
coffee.
“You can check in at the main desk later today
and they’ll get you into their volunteer rotation,” she said
a bit hesitantly. “I suppose you won’t ask to be in the
pediatric department?” She looked at me without much
hope of the answer she would like.
“Not a chance,” I said with a shrug and walked
out to get ready for my new life of helping people instead
of killing them.
Did God see things as tradeoffs? If I saved more than I
killed, maybe twice as many, would he see that as enough
to save my soul? I sure hoped so, because as far I knew, I
couldn’t control the killing in my dreams.

By late morning I stood at the front desk as an
elderly lady with short grey hair and a big smile helped
me into the blue smock that identified me as a volunteer.
If the smock wasn’t obvious enough, the big bold black
letters across the back announcing me as a volunteer
cleared up any doubt.

“There you are,” she said with pride. “Report to
the nurses’ station in the long-term care unit. They’ll be
tickled to have a young vibrant volunteer. Most kids don’t
like to be around people who have no hope of getting
better.” She pressed her lips together in resignation.

I stopped in front of the desk where a large, darkskinned woman sat studying something on her computer
screen. Waiting patiently for what seemed forever I
finally cleared my throat.

The nurse jumped with surprise and stared at me
curiously.
“May I help you?”
“Actually, that’s what I’m here to do for you.” I
smiled pointing to my nametag with volunteer embossed
under my horrible picture taken at the front desk only
moments earlier.
“Really…” the nurse began and then stopped as
her eyes grew wide looking me up and down. “Britt? Britt
Anderson? Honey, they told me what happened with you,
but they didn’t do you justice. You look wonderful.”
“I missed you the other day Nurse Hardy.” I could
feel my face warm in embarrassment.
“You are truly a saint, wanting to come back and
help those who are suffering like you were. You do know
that miracles like yours are rare though.”
“Yes, but I’m hoping some of my luck rubs off on
a few of the patients.” I fidgeted with the concealed
knowledge of my plan.
“Funny you should say that. Yesterday, three
patients seem to have had astounding turnarounds. Your
roommate is one of them. She will be checking out later
today.”
“Jessica is getting out today?” I smiled.
“She sure is, but the doctor wanted a few more
tests before she left. You should pop in and say hi. There
is a nurse’s assistant in with her right now, but I’m sure it
will be okay.”
The phone beeped on the counter and Nurse
Hardy answered, motioning for me to go. I hurried down
the hallway and hesitated at the door to gather my
thoughts. But they felt scrambled and chaotic as I stood
leaning against the door frame. My head spun and my
breath came in short rasps.
I eased the door open to find a chair and sit down.
As I stepped into the room, the spinning in my head
intensified and my vision lost focus, causing me to
stagger into the stand sitting beside the door, knocking
the food tray crashing to the ground.
Squinting in pain, I focused on the bed with
Jessica lying prone on it; a man loomed over her.
Something didn’t seem right. A glow filled the space
between Jessica and the man’s hand as it hovered a foot
over her body. Jessica’s face came into focus as her
terrified eyes stared back at me, beseeching me for help.
Her mouth spread wide in a silent scream.
I tried righting myself only to tumble forward,
reaching for her attacker. “Stop,” I squeezed out before
falling to the floor semiconscious. I knew what the
nurse’s assistant was doing to Jessica and couldn’t do
anything about it. It was just like in my nightmares, but
right here in real life. Tears welled up and dripped from
my eyes as the white tennis shoes turned towards me. I
didn’t have any strength to lift my head or raise my eyes.
A hand rested on the floor in front of my face as
he leaned over me. I felt the weight of his body press
against mine and he took a deep breath that rustled my
hair.
“Oh, you are delicious, aren’t you? Maybe some
other time.” His voice sounded amused; playful.
My head throbbed as he pressed his lips against
my cheek and then everything went black.

I woke up on a gurney in the hallway just outside
Jessica’s room. People hurried in and out of the room, not
noticing me as I sat up and watched the commotion. I
looked around, trying to pair a face with the man who
killed Jessica. Realizing I never saw his face, I turned my
attention to their shoes. That approach proved useless as
they all wore the same white tennis shoes.

I didn’t bother getting up to check on Jessica,
knowing he never left anyone to tell a tale. Yet, what
about me? It really sucked to be the exception in this
case.

Nurse Hardy stopped in front of me as I stared off
in contemplation. “Are you alright honey?” she asked,
taking a hold of my hand.

“I guess,” I shrugged.
“You must have passed out when you walked in
on the nurse’s assistant trying to revive Jessica. He
sounded the code blue, but there was nothing we could
do. Poor girl’s body lost the battle with her cancer.”
“But I thought her cancer was gone?” I said.
“So did we, but we must have missed some.” She
shook her head. “Her heart just gave out, poor thing,” she
said with a sigh and went back into the room.
I sat for a while longer and glanced up at the
clock. With a few more hours on my shift I decided to go
down and take a break in the cafeteria to grab a pop. I slid
from the gurney and staggered for a moment, grasping
the gurney for support. Once confident my legs would
support me, I shuffled down the hallway, my legs
regaining their strength as I went. Soon I was walking
normally as I turned the corner to the cafeteria.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed
Trish, then changed my mind and ended the call before it
went through. Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I
stepped up to the vending machine confident Trish
wouldn’t understand. I sat down at a table and glanced at
the scattered occupants and then stared at the silver Diet
Coke can, running a finger over the condensation forming
along the metal surface.
“Interesting can?” a voice spoke close beside me,
jarring me from my thoughts.
I looked up at a boy my age; bright blue eyes and
shining white teething smiling down at me. He ran a hand
through his golden hair, brushing it out of his face and his
eyes filled with concern as they met mine. The image of
my angel from the river flashed in my mind.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said and then
gestured with his hand for permission to sit down.
I nodded and stared at him as he eased into the
chair next to me. Was this my angel who saved me in the
Boundary Waters? A strong hint at his connection tugged
deep inside.
“I’m Allister Parks.” He extended his hand.
Reaching out I clasped it, holding on tight and
making sure he wasn’t a dream. That he wasn’t going to
disappear in a flash like that night at Sammy’s Pizzeria.
“Britt Anderson.”
“Are you all right?” he asked when I finally
released his hand.
“Yeah, just sorting some things out,” I said.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” he said running a
nervous hand through his hair, “what are you doing
here?”
“I’m a volunteer.” I gestured to my fashion faux
pas smock.
“Oh yes, how could I have missed that?” he
laughed.
“I want you to know I wouldn’t wear this by
choice.” I grinned.
“I should hope not,” he agreed and we both
laughed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, then wished I
hadn’t as he stopped laughing and his eyes turned hard.
“I’m sorry. We don’t know each other. It’s none of my
business.”
He raised his hand, halting my apology and shook
his head. “I asked you the same thing. I’m looking for
someone but just missed them.”
“So... no one admitted to the hospital… an
employee?”
“I’m not sure. I found out he was here and arrived
a little too late. That seems to be happening to me a lot
lately.” He shrugged and then his features softened again
as he stared at me. “Have you been volunteering long?”
“Started today.”
His eyebrows went up in curiosity. “Really, you
seem so relaxed. Most people are tense around sick
people.”
“That’s because I was one of them until a few
weeks ago,” I said reflexively and wanted to take it back.
“Interesting…do tell,” he said leaning on the table
and sliding closer.
“Uh, I …” pulling my phone from my pocket, I
stalled for a moment. “I have to get back to work.” I
stood and he stood up with me.
“Maybe you could tell me some other time?” he
asked.
“Sure,” I said, hesitating for an awkward moment,
and then spun on my heels and walked away.
“Bye.” He waved when I turned to look back at
him over my shoulder.
“Bye,” I said and scurried around the corner, out
of sight, before giggling to myself.
So that was Allister Parks. My angel. Until he
admitted his involvement with creating the new me, I
needed to play it cool. Right now I had some work to do:
keep a look out for that nurse’s assistant who killed
Jessica, and heal some people. A lot of people. The scale
weighing my soul’s content now tipped to the bad side
and I needed to shift it to the good side, fast.
Stopping to talk to Nurse Hardy, I asked her who I
could sit with for a while.
“Tammy in room 109 has leukemia and is really
struggling,” she said. “She has five younger brothers and
sisters and her folks can’t be here during the day since
they both work. She gets real lonely.”
“I’ll go see what I can do,” I said with a smile and
marched down to room 109. Taking a deep breath, I
pushed the door open to see the twelve-year-old propped
up in bed watching some lame soap opera.
She turned to me as the door swung in and a smile
touched her face as if she knew why I was there. The dull
glow around her proclaimed to me a limited time left here
on earth. I stepped inside and let the door ease shut
behind me.
“Hey Tammy, I’m here to help,” I said and her
smile widened.

The next few weeks I spent hanging with the girls
in the evenings and volunteering at the hospital during the
day. I wanted to volunteer in the evening, but was
relegated to the daytime hours. A busier time for staff, it
was a bit tricky healing people without being interrupted
though soon I became accustomed to the routines and
adept at avoiding the near misses I suffered in the
beginning.

My plan was to heal one person a day to avoid
overextending myself and causing the scars from my old
injuries to come back. With few new cases coming in, I
turned my attention to the emergency room and anywhere
patients had precariously dull glows about them. So,
splitting my volunteering time between the ER and the
long-term care unit, the healing dropped down to a person
every other day.

As I pulled into the parking lot one morning, a
television van from a Duluth news station was parked out
front. I walked in through the ER doors on my way to my
locker as a film crew interviewed one of the doctors.