Three worlds collide, p.31
Three Worlds Collide, page 31
Jackie steeled her expression, wiped her cheek dry, and turned away, nodding. “Yeah, okay.”
Sensing the need to move on, Michael turned to the duffels and continued going through them. “Let’s double-check the med pack. Then I want to lay out our weapons and go over the plan with everyone else,” Michael said. Jackie nodded again, then went over what she’d restocked.
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A few minutes later, Michael called out to the group, “I think we’re ready to roll. I’d like to go over the plan and then the weapons.” He waved everyone over. Sean stood and reached out a hand to Clay, who took it gratefully as he stood from the couch. Moving stiff in his first few steps, he made his way over with Martha following.
As they formed a semicircle around the worktable, Martha spoke out, “Does anyone want to talk about Clay, what’s happening to him, or how he cracked all the glass?”
“No,” everyone said in unison, followed by a few chuckles around the group. Martha picked up some movement on the fringe of her vision and noticed that Evan had appeared, displaying an exasperated look.
Clay stood silent while Michael broke the tension. “Deep topic. Maybe later? I’m not sure we have the time.”
Everyone nodded in agreement as they stared at Clay’s battered face. “Maybe you’ve had enough, Clay,” Michael said.
Clay focused his gaze, looking Michael in the eyes. “No self-respecting man would walk away now. If I can help, I will.” Clay paused for a moment. “If it’s like you said and the police won’t do anything... no offense...” Clay nodded to Michael.
Michael gave Clay a hard look as if warning him. “None taken,” he said with caution in his voice.
“Then it’s up to us,” Clay continued. “Besides, that last time Evan merged with me in the hospital parking lot, I was fully conscious of it. I felt the surge. It was...” Clay reflected on the connection with Evan. “It was empowering. Martha has been explaining to me how this works and there is a chance I can hold the connection a bit longer. Maybe help more this time.” Clay glanced to the floor. An embarrassed look came over his face.
“You were smart and did what you could,” Michael said.
Out of the side of her vision, Martha noticed Evan nodding approvingly, appearing to agree with Michael.
Jackie walked over to Clay, stood beside him, and put her arm around him for a brief side hug, rubbing his back gently. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He looked down and smiled at her, making brief eye contact before the lights in the workshop flickered angrily. Everyone looked up in surprise.
“Just so you know, Evan is here too,” Martha said. She glanced at Evan again and saw him glaring at Clay. Even though it seemed clear that he disapproved of Clay’s connection with Jackie, it looked as though the two men were slowly earning each other’s respect. Even in death, the dynamics between men appeared to be the same.
Suddenly uncomfortable, Jackie dropped her hand and took a small step sideways to create some space between her and Clay. She glanced up to Clay, then turned her attention to Michael.
Michael gave Jackie an approving nod, indicating that he considered the matter settled. Then he looked to Sean and Martha. Before he even got started, Sean spoke up, “Don’t even try it.”
Michael’s features softened a bit. “Sean, you’re the most important thing in the world to me. I can’t put you in harm’s way.”
Jackie joined in, “Sean, you’ve done enough already.”
Sean set his feet and crossed his arms. “I can help and stay out of the line of fire, just like the hospital parking lot. You need a driver. I’ll hang back and be ready when you come out.”
Michael nodded in agreement. Inside, his heart swelled with pride. If anything happened to Sean, he’d never forgive himself. But he was right. They needed his help. Michael’s gaze shifted to Martha. “We can call you a taxi.”
Martha considered it for a moment. “I can stay in the SUV with Sean, in the back and out of sight. Besides, with Evan here, I’m sure I can help Clay understand more about his newfound ability.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Clay said.
Michael nodded to Martha. “Okay.”
Finished purging any remaining doubts, Michael began to go over the plan. “I think we have a feasible way to get into ABCs’ stronghold, but it is a longshot. I’m going to review, as quickly as I can, safety procedures while using these rifles. I also want to go over some basic hand and arm signals.”
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Elena sat silently, a distant look in her eyes, as the woman used a damp towel to clean her face. They kept the small room very clean. It had one window, a single metal frame bed, a sink, and a toilet. Although a pair of handcuffs dangled ominously from the bed frame, there was no grate in the center of the floor. Two other women had silently made their way in after ABCs left. They stood nearby.
“Pobre cita,” the woman said as she cleaned her arms. They were bruised from the scuffle to kidnap her as well as the rough treatment from their malign captor. The other women gasped when they saw her injuries. They exchanged glances and murmured disapproval in Spanish, which Elena didn’t understand.
“What’s happening to me?” Elena asked. Her soft cries filled the small room.
The woman cleaning her stopped and put her arms around the frightened little girl. The other two women knelt on either side to comfort her. “There, there, don’t cry, ninita.” All three women cooed over her and did their best to comfort her.
“You are with us now and we will do everything we can to protect you,” one woman said as she kneeled.
“I want my momma,” Elena said with determination. Her arms stiffened and her fists tightened.
The women leaned back to give her some space, noticing her tenseness. They looked at each other and nodded in approval. “Chica valiente,” they murmured to one another.
“Brave girl,” the woman with the towel said to her so Elena could understand. Not wanting to make empty promises, she looked down and resigned herself to say, “We will do what we can to help you.”
The other two women nodded in agreement. “Si, si... yes, yes, we’ll help.”
The sobbing subsided and Elena looked up. “Thank you.”
The three women cooed again and gave her light reassuring hugs. “We are here too. We stick together. Okay?”
“Okay,” Elena said softly.
The first woman paused thoughtfully for a moment, silently assessing the little girl before her. She knew the life of unspeakable misery that awaited this child. Something moved in her that she hadn’t connected with for some time. The instinctual drive to protect a helpless child that every adult possesses. Because of the savage beatings and other abuse she had taken from ABCs, she would likely never be able to have children of her own, even if they found a way to escape. The admission deeply wounded the part of her that knew she would have been a wonderful mother. But looking into the bravery behind the eyes of this unbroken little girl reconnected her with a strength she thought had completely abandoned her. Gathering herself, she put the towel down, stood on clean bare feet, took a pace back from Elena, and put her right hand on her heart. “I am Carmen,” she said as she nodded her head forward in greeting.
Elena looked up with wide eyes. Carmen had a small form that exuded strength. She wore a clean and simple white shift. She had large brown eyes with flecks of green. The lines in her skin radiating around them spoke of her weariness. Her long dark straight hair was down and slightly disheveled.
The other two women joined Carmen and stood in a similar manner, hands on their heart.
“I am Frederica.”
“I am Rosaria.”
Frederica and Rosaria wore the same shift, also barefoot.
“We are pleased to meet you,” Carmen said. Frederica and Rosaria repeated the same greeting. They also had the same brown eyes, long dark straight hair, and beautiful almond skin. Although each shared similar dress and complexion, their unique features shone before Elena like warm morning suns watching over a peaceful faraway world. They gave her the impression of a family.
Elena slipped off the bed and stood. She put her hand on her heart and inclined her chin. “I am Elena.”
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As Michael wrapped up his discussion of the plan and weapons, Martha made her way over to Clay. “While Evan is here and we have a minute, can we talk?”
Jackie and Sean took the cue and went to help Michael pack up the duffels and load the SUV. Clay and Martha stepped toward the seating area. Clay took a seat in one of the chairs. Martha sat across from him.
“Have you had enough time to process what we talked about earlier?” Martha asked.
“I think so. As much as I can. The whole thing is still kinda strange,” Clay admitted, scratching at the back of his head.
“I’m sure. Now that Evan is with us, he wants you to know a few more things that may help.”
“Okay.” Clay sort of cocked his head to the side and smirked, visibly uncomfortable with taking tips from someone not alive.
Martha sensed his hesitation again. She paused to take out a tea candle and her Zippo lighter. The small orange flame danced as she lit the wick. In the light of the workshop, it was nearly unnoticeable. However, a very faint vision of Evan materialized. He stood—more like hovered—near the table between Clay and Martha. A sort of out-of-focus black-and-white picture you might see on an old TV getting poor reception from a storm-weary antenna clinging desperately to the roof of an abandoned house sitting alone on a dry prairie ravaged from the dust bowl era. Clay leaned back, eyes widened. The others took no notice. Apparently, they couldn’t see the apparition.
Clay did his best to steel his demeanor before speaking. “Tell him I said thank you for his help so far.”
“He can hear you, but you can’t hear him. He also wants to say thank you for being there for Jackie and Elena.”
Clay silently nodded to Evan.
“He says to assure you that if he can no longer be a warrior in the flesh, then he will be one with you in spirit.”
Clay raised his chin slightly, narrowed his eyes, and regarded Evan with an assessing gaze. “Okay. We’ll do this together.”
Martha sighed with relief seeing them reach an understanding. Men.
Tiny golden orange sparks began to rotate around the irises of Martha’s eyes. Clay, who focused on a more animated but silent vision of Evan, didn’t notice.
“He is saying that the reason you drop the connection is because you are losing focus once the fighting begins. Evan practiced meditation along with his martial arts. Having amalgamated with you, he can tell that you do not. He can help with this.”
“How?” Clay continued to regard Evan.
“Connecting with you becomes possible when you get angry and worried about Jackie or Elena, and you want to do something about it. Your heightened emotional state combined with your focus and intention on saving them matches his. However, once the fight begins, you are allowing other concerns to distract you, likely due to your lack of experience in combat.” Martha knew that Evan really meant fear caused the loss of focus, tainting his intention to protect with a primordial instinct to flee as the fight progressed. But realizing Clay’s confidence may be shaky, she had wisely decided to phrase that part a little more gently.
“So, at the hospital, when I ran into that guy trying to take Elena, I lost my focus once I hit him?”
“Yes, crashing into him probably shocked you... but I don’t think he knows for sure. He does believe that if you can find a way to relax and manage your thoughts better during the fighting, Evan can have more influence over your body.”
“Relax? How in the hell am I supposed to do that? I’m not a trained fighter. I’m a... a gentle person.” Clay flinched at his inability to find a better phrase to describe himself. “I put in flowers for a living, you know? I mean... for Pete’s sake.”
Evan looked at him with a mocking stare. Martha chuckled as she asked Clay, “He wants to know if you’re done, sweetheart, or do you need to rant a little more?”
A flash of anger passed over Clay’s face for a moment, then the tension melted from him, his shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled to himself. “Okay, point taken.”
Evan continued through Martha. “You call yourself a gentle man. That’s good. In oriental culture, so-called ‘gentle-men’ carry much fury with them. You have been provoked, and when someone with bad intentions pushes a man who chose a gentle life, as you might call it, they are likely to unleash the beast hidden within the man.”
Clay looked fixedly at Evan for a moment, then dropped his gaze to the floor. His eyes wetted slightly as chills ran over his entire body. Evan had struck a chord. Clay had never really thought about the beast within, but perhaps he’d sensed its veiled presence, at the ready should a situation demand it. In college he had enjoyed the roughness of rugby, maybe then he’d subconsciously indulged his beast. He definitely found a deep sense of satisfaction while cultivating the physical toughness rugby required. This self-awareness could also be one of the biggest reasons he liked landscaping. It was hard yet rewarding work. It challenged him physically and he felt connected.
Martha continued for Evan, “We don’t have much time. His point is that this is a mental game for you. If you can manage to remain calm and stay focused on the ultimate goal of saving Elena and protecting Jackie, then Evan can maintain the connection longer and work through you more effectively.”
“I’ll try,” Clay said. He glanced up and saw Evan frowning and shaking his head.
Martha also noticed Evan’s reaction. “I agree,” she added.
“What?” Clay said, raising his hands palms up. Again, Martha chose not to risk wounding Clay’s confidence by stating the obvious.
Clay sat back in the chair and let out an exhausted sigh. “Look, I get what you’re trying to say...”
As Clay returned his gaze to Martha, he stopped mid-sentence. His eyes widened in surprise again as he saw the golden flints of light orbiting the edges of her irises.
“You see it, don’t you?”
“Y-yes, hints of golden light in your eyes,” Clay managed to say.
“You’re not the only one who learned today that they have a gift for amalgamation.”
“H-how... Who, I mean...” Clay stammered as he looked around as if searching for a thought floating in the air. “Explain to me what’s happening to you. It might help.”
“I’m not sure I know myself, at least not well enough to explain it right now.”
“The strength... I can feel it emanating from you, like I don’t know what,” Clay said with a look of astonishment.
Martha held his gaze for a moment, then glanced to the side and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I feel it too.” She brought her focus back to Clay. “But we have more pressing things to talk about. I can teach you to focus your mind better so you can relax while fighting. But we have little time,” Martha explained as she blew out the candle, the sparks in her eyes fading slowly.
Clay stared at her in amazement. This is going to be a day to remember—if I survive. They heard the hatch crunk shut on the SUV.
Michael took a few steps toward them. “Let’s roll.”
Martha put her hand out. “Come. I can show you on the way there.” Her supremely confident and slightly conspiratorial smile gave Clay the encouragement he needed to rise almost effortlessly and take her hand.
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Carmen sat on the edge of her bed next to Elena, her hand rested lightly on the back of a child who felt scared and alone. “We were taken from our family too when we were young.”
Elena looked up, her eyes large with concern. “I’m sorry,” eliciting coos from Carmen, Frederica, and Rosaria.
Kneeling in front of them, Frederica and Rosaria said together, “Thank you, ninita, thank you.”
Carmen smiled at both of her sisters-in-spirit and returned to her story. “The Inti Raymi had begun, a festival celebrating the harvest at the time of our winter solstice,” Carmen said wistfully. As she spoke, memories of a world that existed in a time not too long ago began to swirl around them. Their village in the mountains materialized in the combined passions of their imaginations as she described the home they were taken from. The four of them spirited back to a happier time surrounded with cheerful smiles, delicious food cooking on open fires, and music playing. The comfort found in the constant hum of conversation between families and friends who worked and lived so closely together.
“At the festival, we performed every night,” Carmen remembered. “Thousands of people dressed in brilliant red costumes trimmed with elegant golden fringe performed ancient rituals dedicated to the life-giving sun.” Her passion infused each word as she spoke. “The Elders carried golden staffs and wore elaborate headdresses adorned with colorful feathers and Incan symbols. Men and women danced everywhere there was space to dance. Vendors scattered throughout the event selling traditional foods, Chiri Uchu, chicharrones, anticuchos, chicha...”
Frederica and Rosaria closed their eyes and wrapped their arms around their tummies with soft, hungry groans, “Uuuummmm,” at the mention of their favorites.
“Wooowwww,” Elena said with fascination glinting in her eyes.
Carmen was practically glowing by the time she finished. She closed her eyes, savoring the evocation. It had been many years since she transported herself and her sisters back to those special times they’d shared. It had been too painful to talk about. The memories stirred a connection deep down within her being. A part of her that desired immeasurably and passionately to be free. A part of herself she had tamped down over the years. That part of her welled up again. The notion made her frightened yet determined once again.
Suddenly, Carmen became overwhelmed and began to sob softly, tears streamed from her closed eyes. Rosaria continued for her, “We grew up in the same small village. Since we were children, the three of us practiced instruments, singing, and dancing together.”
Elena fiddled distractedly with her dress, her head slightly tilted. Then she placed a hand over Carmen’s in a gesture of solidarity and gave Rosaria and Frederica an expectant look.
