Amethyst (2 page)

All I’d wanted
was to begin my freshman year like any
normal
college student – excited
about my newfound freedom and overwhelmed with ordinary things. Unfortunately,
being
normal
would never happen while I was prisoner to the
premonitions. That’s why I’d made the decision to disregard one. I’d thought it
might not come to fruition, and I’d be done with them for good.

How wrong I’d
been. And now they were back; only this time I wouldn’t be able to save anyone,
not even myself.

A calm resolve
swept over me as I realized death offered an escape from the pain, the guilt,
and a lifetime of responsibility. Dying wasn’t so scary; it was retribution.
But the thought of experiencing the bloody assault on my body was horrifying.
Not to mention, I’d be responsible for another death – the poor girl at my
feet.

I closed my eyes
and imagined being somewhere safe – swimming laps in the warm, chlorinated
waters of my old high school pool.

That’s why I
don’t know exactly what happened next. A predatory howl preceded an explosion
of barks that reverberated around the alley. My eyes shot open, and I gasped at
the sight of the Mastiff intertwined with a smaller, but still good-sized, gray
dog. They rolled across the pavement, biting at each other. Just past them, in
the shadowy mist, the bare-chested guy was engaged in a serious physical battle
with what appeared to be a very capable female opponent.

What was this
craziness? Kung fu night? Still possessing some of my wits, I realized this was
my chance to save the girl, so I grabbed her elbow and yelled, “Get up, let’s
go!”

“I can’t,” she
said in a panic. “Something’s wrong with me. I feel so…so drained, like I have
no energy.” She slumped forward, her head drooping.

“We gotta move,”
I cried and hauled her to her feet, all but dragging her to the back of the
alley. Empty buckets blocked our path, so I kicked them out of the way and
leaned her against the chain link fence. Thoughts I’d had of climbing over the
top diminished when I caught sight of barbed wire encircling the upper bar. The
girl slouched over again, so I propped her against my legs. Readying myself, I
gripped Ben’s bat in one hand and clutched the pepper spray in the other. If
this wasn’t my day to die, then so be it. But I wasn’t going to let the girl
from my snapshots die either. Clinging to me, she buried her face against my
sopping wet jeans.

I directed my
attention towards the dog fight. The powerful Mastiff had the scruffier gray
dog pinned down on the asphalt. I cringed as he sunk his teeth into the poor
dog’s jugular. But with a sudden burst of strength, the gray dog thrust the
Mastiff off, rolled over, and stood on all fours. He might be scruffy, but the
gray dog was tough and looked a lot like my aunt’s Irish Wolfhound – tall and
fearless. Growling, with tails whipping, they attacked each other again.
Savagely, they tore at each other, spewing clumps of wet fur into the air. The
stench of blood infested the alley.

I wiped my face
and peered through the rain, trying to discern who was winning the other
battle. Both humans were unbelievably fast, but maybe that was just an illusion
created by the mist. Dancing around each other, they threw punches and kicks
from all angles like they were at a martial arts competition. The girl swooped
in and delivered a swift upper cut to the bare-chested guy’s face. His lip
split and began spraying a fountain of blood. Staggering back, he finally
regained his balance and launched himself forward, kicking her mid-drift. The
force of impact sent her hurtling to the ground. She landed flat on her butt.

“Now you’ve
really pissed me off!” she yelled, rising to her feet. All at once, buckets
flew through the air, one right after another, clobbering him from all
directions. I knew she was quick, but how was she…? I rubbed my eyes and
watched as she hurled those buckets faster than I could blink. In fact, I don’t
know how her arms could move that fast. One of the dogs yelped, causing me to
glance away for an instant, so I missed how she executed her next move. But
when I looked back, the bare-chested guy was sailing backwards through the air.
He slammed into the brick sidewall, and his head snapped forward.

At that moment,
another cloaked person entered the alley, dashed past the dogs, and rushed
towards us. I held out the bat, but the person said, “We’re here to help. Are
you all right?” The voice was soft and definitely female.

Before I could
respond, the whimpering girl at my side sputtered, “I don’t think I can…” but
suddenly her voice morphed into a shriek, and she pointed in front of us.

I looked up. The
Mastiff had broken away and was bolting our direction. His droopy jowls lurched
side to side. Raising my hand in the air, I fired a jet-stream of mace into his
face and then swung the bat. The bat never made contact though, because
unbelievably, the Mastiff stopped dead in his tracks, like he’d just run into a
brick wall. His amber eyes sealed shut, and his face twisted in pain. My jaw
dropped, and I looked at the pepper spray with new respect.

Who needed a
taser? Right? Talk about overrated.

Taking advantage
of the situation, the Wolfhound attacked and tore a bloody chunk of flesh from
the Mastiff’s hind leg. Howling, the Mastiff’s strange yellow eyes popped open.
He leaped several feet in the air, glided over the Wolfhound, and tore from the
alley. How he did that, I don’t know, but the Wolfhound followed in hot
pursuit.

That’s when I
noticed the bare-chested guy had disappeared as well. His impressive opponent
yelled urgently, “Let’s go.” She didn’t come any closer, just brushed her hands
together at a task well done. I couldn’t make out her facial features, but
long, drenched hair clung to her back.

Stepping
forward, I found my voice. “That was insane! How did you throw those buckets?”

Her head tilted
slightly upwards, and light glistened on her wet face. “Just one of my many
talents. Now, let’s get out of here,” she said haughtily,

“Where did you
come from?” I persisted, feeling like I’d been played in some way.

“From our car,
obviously” she said, taking several steps forward and placing her hands on her
hips. “The dog needed a pit stop. When he ran off, we chased him here.” She
swept an arm around the alley. “No more questions. We don’t have time to stand
around and chat.”

“I hadn’t
realized the Wolfhound was yours,” I said, piecing it all together in my mind.

She gave a low,
throaty laugh, and her white teeth glimmered. “Oh, that beast is not mine. He
belongs to her.” She pointed at the soft-spoken girl, who was assisting the
whimpering jogger to her feet.

The soft-spoken
girl nodded. “She’s right; we need to go. We’ll get you both to the hospital.”

“Not me,” I said
adamantly. “I’m fine, and I’m going home. I live across the street and can get
there by myself, but she’ll need a lift.” I nodded at the jogger.

“You should
stick with us,” the soft-spoken girl said, her tone that of a concerned mother.

“No, I’ll be
okay.”

“Let’s go
already,” her friend shouted. “We don’t want to be here if they come back, and
we need to call the police.”

She nodded and
glanced my way. Rain dripped off her hood, obscuring her face. Gently, she
pushed the jogger forward and turned to me. “Glad you had that pepper spray.”

I frowned and
looked at her suspiciously. Something wasn’t adding up with these two.
Actually, nothing was adding up, but I replied, “Yeah well, this stuff costs a
fortune, but it’s supposed to hit hot, like a blowtorch. Guess it really does.”

The jogger
looked over at me, and I asked if she was all right. She nodded and thanked me.
I was just relieved she was safe and I hadn’t gotten her killed. Gripping Ben’s
bat, I shook my head and wondered if the rain had ruined Griffey’s signature.

The girls
hurried us out of the alley and we parted ways before I could get their names.
It was almost like they didn’t want to be known. If that was true, I didn’t
care; I had secrets and problems enough of my own.

The power was
still out at home, so I changed out of my wet clothes and towel dried my hair
by candle-light. After climbing into bed, I clung to my pillow and pressed a
damp washcloth against my pounding forehead. A cinnamon-spiced candle burned
tall and bright, casting forlorn shadows on the wall.

Cold and shaky,
I was emotionally and physically drained. At least the jogger was alive; that’s
all that mattered. Not once in all my years of saving people had I ever been
hurt or felt like I was in danger, but tonight I’d been sure it was the end. I
doubted the jogger or I would have survived the night without help – help that
arrived from two very unlikely strangers.

Complete
madness.

It now appeared
psychopaths were on the loose, and mysterious heroes patrolled the streets of
my small town. The real question was which category did I fall under?

Burdened since
childhood with premonitions of impending tragedy, my sole existence had always
centered on saving people. While that had been rewarding when I was younger, it
hadn’t been for a long, long time. The snapshots of disaster, as I called them,
crashed through my life like colossal waves, throwing me off balance and
 
commanding me with no mercy. I never knew
when they’d strike or where they’d take me, but always, I was forced to drop
whatever I was doing and race off to help. My strangely erratic behavior had
made me an outsider at school and had earned me nicknames like, “crazy chick”
and “freak girl.”

All I knew is
that I didn’t want to deal with the snapshots, the guilt, or the burden of
saving people anymore. I wanted out.

I was sitting on
a green plastic tub, one I’d strategically wedged onto the small balcony off my
bedroom, when I heard Ally calling my name. Rising, I went inside to greet her.

With a concerned
look and a frown she hurried into the room and gave me a big hug. “Are you all
right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” She held me at arm’s length and scrutinized
my face with her big blue eyes. “I want to know what happened.” Taking a couple
steps back, she kicked the door shut with her foot.

“I’m glad you
weren’t here,” I said adamantly. “I wouldn’t have wanted you in that alley.
Things were crazy out of control…like it’s never been before. If something had
happened to you…well, I don’t even want to think about that.”

“I can take care
of myself.” She pulled me over to the bed so we could sit down. “I’ve been
worried sick about you. Tell me exactly what happened, and don’t leave anything
out.”

A half hour
later, after I’d finished a full recount of the night before, she said, “How
insane! I can’t believe I missed all that action. So much for moving to a small
town without any drama.” She pounded her feet on the floor. “Thank God you’re
okay.
And
you saved the jogger, too.”

I rolled my
eyes. “I wouldn’t say she’s alive because of me.”

“You might have
had some help, but you got there and did your thing.” Thinking hard, she tapped
her chin. “I don’t like how you’re your life was in danger. That’s something
totally new.”

“After what
happened with the cyclist, I deserve–”

“You have to
stop blaming yourself for that,” she interrupted in a furious tone. Her face
turned several shades of red. “You can’t be everywhere all the time. You know
that. Besides, you’ve helped so many people. I ought to know, because I’ve been
right there with you. We’ve saved a lot of lives, so let’s just keep things in
perspective here.”

My frown
deepened. “The cyclist dying…that
was
my fault,” I said adamantly.

Taking a deep
breath, she stared at the ceiling. “You have to let that go and forgive
yourself, especially now that the premonitions are back.” She bit her lip
contemplatively. “I promise I’ll be here next time. I shouldn’t have gone home
for the weekend – not with how emotionally screwed up you’ve been lately.”

“Oh thanks.”

“Well sorry, but
you are.”

I sighed because
it was true. “Ally, you know you can’t be with me all the time. Besides, you
need to live your own life. I won’t have my premonitions dictating your every
move like they do mine.”

She shook her
head. “Sorry, but I’m here for the long haul.”

I sighed and we
exchanged sidelong glances. “Can we please talk about something else for
awhile?”

“Okay, fine” she
said and glanced around the room. Soon she was making a loud tisking sound.
“Tell me this.” She raised a brow. “When are you ever gonna finish unpacking? I
don’t know how you can live with such clutter when your brain works with such
precision.”

“Procrastination
is my friend,” I said, relieved to have moved on to such a mundane topic.

“Yeah well, you
need to be an
anticrastinater
and find the rest of your summer clothes.
Those denim cutoffs are so outdated.” She smacked my leg.

“Who cares? I’m
comfortable,” I said, completely familiar with her lectures.

She made a sour
face and ran a hand through her auburn hair. “Whatever. Hey, I know. We could
take a walk. Maybe check out that bookstore we’ve been talkin’ about. What do
ya say?”

“Sure, sounds better
than sitting around here.”

She stood up and
placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll let you change clothes and wash up.”

“Why would I
want to do that?” I asked just to be antagonistic.

She snorted.
“The number of eligible bachelors in this town must be phenomenal. And you
,”
she jabbed a finger into my chest, “are most likely to find
your type
with his nose stuck in a book.”

“Doubtful.”