Authors: Angela B. Macala-Guajardo
“Good. Sort of.” That meant her kill count was back down to one. It would stay that way until at least Nexus. She’d deal with her newfound ability to shut off her emotions and go into kill mode later.
The thought nauseated her. Maybe a lot later. “Is there a way to get my energy back?”
“Food. Rest. Whatever goes into the atmosphere gets recycled.” They jogged under a hanging sign that read “Maternity” and turned down the side hall it pointed at, then slowed to a walk.
When the air temperature plummeted, Roxie stopped and gripped her sword tight. Sekiro turned, confusion all over her face. Roxie said, “You didn’t just feel the temperature drop?”
“No. I just know we’re very close to one tormented soul. I feel their energy and emotions, and the psychic tug of a lost soul. It’s how I found you.”
“Is there another Numina with her?”
Sekiro looked at her with one eye, instead of two. Her mouth twitched into the slightest of frowns. “No,” she said, turning away. “That’s not who she needs right now.”
They continued in silence, their steps growing slower. The temperature dropped from what felt like air conditioning up too high, to the frigid cold of a Buffalo winter. It felt cold enough to snow, cold as the shadow people’s touch. She glanced behind her again but saw no shadow people. Instead, the hallway looked darkened, like distant windows were the only light source. She didn’t remember the hallway being that dark a moment ago. The hallway ahead was darkening as well. “What’s happening to all the light?”
“The lost souls are taking energy from it,” Sekiro said in a tone that conveyed she didn’t want to explain more.
Roxie didn’t press her. Instead, she kept her guard way up. The fading light made it feel like the walls and ceiling were closing in on them. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but the darkening space added to her mounting anxiety.
She and Sekiro jumped when they heard a woman scream--not a blood-curdling one, but a deep-throated one of intense pain. Assuming it was her mom, Roxie started running towards it.
“Roxie, don’t take the lead!”
Roxie slid to a halt, her greaves scraping the floor, and she mentally cursed. She’d broken her promise that had potentially dire consequences. She felt her eyes heat with a yellow glow.
Sekiro closed the fifty-foot gap between them, ran past her and stopped in front of her, pale eyes full of panic and anger.
“I’m sorry. I trust you. I just reac--”
Her glare shifted past Roxie’s shoulder and the Numina’s eyes widened.
Four shadow people stood at the hallway junction, no eyes, and no facial features to glean what they were thinking or feeling.
Sekiro said, “I know. But I can’t protect your exact location from the dead if you run out of my aura.” The nearby woman screamed in pain again. “You have no idea how close this place is to turning into that scene at the lighthouse. Every spirit in this building knows you’re here; just not where exactly.”
“Is that why they’re not moving?”
Sekiro nodded gravely and her glare softened to a slight frown. She swiped at her bangs, pushing them out of her eyes, then turned and headed down the hall. A third scream reverberated off the shadowy walls.
Oh, god, I’m being hunted.
Roxie followed close behind, heart pounding, eyes glowing, yet yearning to see her mother face-to-face. They entered a birthing room and the lighting grew brighter, but tinted red. Two medical staffers passed through Roxie and Sekiro and rushed to a pregnant woman standing over a gurney with her head bowed and back to the doorway. Their passage hand’t felt cold or anything. The air didn’t even blow by. What kind of ghosts were they, besides ones not interested in her energy? The woman wore a hospital smock, an identification bracelet, and had a few wires and tubes running from one arm to a machine and a hanging IV bag. Her feet and legs up to her knees were bare.
Roxie’s pounding heart caught in her throat, which constricted with tears. “That’s...” She swallowed, getting her heart to go back down. “That’s my mom.” She recognized the same dark blonde hair, the same way it fell in loose waves past her mother’s tense shoulders. Roxie moved to sheathe her sword, but once she’d aligned the tip with the sheath’s opening, a warm hand wrapped around her elbow.
“Don’t. Just because I’m hiding you doesn’t mean they won’t find you.”
Two staffers joined a third that suddenly appeared next to her mom. The trio talked to Mom--well, their mouths moved but no sound came out. Mom shook her head and insistently pointed to her IV bag. One doctor kindly placed a hand on her shoulder, then shook his head and said something else. Mom turned her head and, eyes narrowed and face red, spoke in a way that made the doctor flinch. Eyes hard, he left the room without looking back. The second doctor who’d run through Roxie and Sekiro looked at Mom, then followed the first one back out. The remaining female doctor started gesturing with her hands as she spoke, her brows crinkled with empathy. Mom insistently pointed at her IV bag and shouted back, but the female doctor held her ground and continued speaking calmly. Mom shook her head, then grabbed her swollen stomach and bent over.
The female doctor faded.
Mom’s movements then began to look like she was moving in fast-forward. She rocked her torso as she stood over the gurney, but it looked more like bobbing to fast-paced heavy metal music. She paced the room unnaturally fast, her gait that of a walk, yet covered ground fast as a sprinter. Her circuit frequently took her to the wide window looking out over the front lawn. Roxie backed closer to Sekiro.
“It’s okay. She has no clue we’re here. She’s just flipping through memories of this day.”
As if to prove the Numina right, Mom’s erratic pacing slowed. She climbed onto the gurney at normal speed, set the wires by her side, then flopped against the elevated portion, both hands on her stomach. She looked at he ceiling, mouth wide open as she breathed hard.
One male and female doctor from earlier walked through Roxie and Sekiro and positioned themselves on either side of the gurney. Roxie clutched her torso, expecting to feel herself go into cardiac arrest or something, yet she felt nothing. Ghosts of people passing through her had to have some sort of negative effect on the body, right?
Concern for her own wellbeing got waylaid by the sight of both doctors frowning with sadness. Mom took turns glancing between the two of them, her brows furrowed. The female doctor placed her hands over Mom’s as the male one spoke, and this time his voice sounded loud and clear.
“We didn’t think we’d ever deliver this type of news to anyone in labor,” he began softly, his tenor voice thick with emotion, “but we feel it best to let you know now, instead of later.”
“What’s wrong with my baby?” Mom’s face lined with panic.
“This isn’t about your baby. It’s about your husband.”
“Where is he? He should’ve been here hours ago!”
The female doctor tightened her grip on Mom’s hands.
“He’s here, but he got into a car accident on the way.”
“Bring me to him! I need to see him.”
The male doctor clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze. “You can’t.”
“I’m his wife. I will.” Mom gave the doctor a dagger glare.
The female doctor said, “Dana, your husband... the doctors are fighting to resuscitate him. He sustained severe head and neck trauma in the crash. We don’t know if he’ll make it.”
Mom gaped at the female doctor and the whole room fell silent. The silence drew out and became awkward. Roxie wished any of the apparitions would speak, maybe even Sekiro. Mom pulled her hand out of the lady’s grip and clutched her belly. She scrunched her eyes closed and grimaced. A moan escaped her lips.
The doctors looked at each other, and then the female one spoke. “Perhaps we should’ve waited. It’s terrible news in an already high-stress situation.”
Mom glared at her. “You sure as hell better not hide shit like that from me. I’m his wife. I have a right to know.” She doubled over and let out another moan.
The male doctor said, “Check her dilation.”
“Don’t you dare touch me!”
The female doctor ignored Mom and slipped a hand under her hospital smock. Mom made no move to kick or push the doctor. She clutched her belly and just grimaced through a contraction. “Eight centimeters. She’s getting close.”
The unfolding scene slipped into mute fast-forward once again. Doctors came and went but there was always at least one staffer with Mom. Roxie tried to wrap her brain around how it’d feel to be in labor with her husband’s survival in question. As much as her mom had the right to know about the wellbeing of Dad, she couldn’t help but wonder if the doctors should’ve waited.
But then maybe Mom’s stress would’ve compounded as she got closer to birth, as she kept wondering and asking about her husband. How could the doctors feel good about keeping such dire news from her? Maybe it’d been impossible to put off the news, so they’d just shared it sooner, instead of later. On top of that, Roxie already knew her father was going to stay dead. When had her mom found out? Before or after Roxie was born? What horrible news after what was supposed to be such a wonderful moment in anyone’s life...
The unfolding scene slowed back down to realtime as Grandma ran into the room and wrapped her arms around Mom, who was flushed, sweating, and panting rhythmically. Grandma wore khaki pants, a blouse, and a tan purse slung over one shoulder. She looked twenty years younger and she was crying. The sight of her younger appearance confused Roxie at first, then a wave of dread passed over her. For one second she thought Grandma was dead, but then she remembered that she was just watching bad memories replay themselves. The dread passed.
“He’s gone, he’s gone! Charlie’s gone!”
Mom hugged Grandma back with one arm. “He can’t be.” Her words came out faint and breathy.
Grandma sobbed on her shoulder and held Mom tight. “He was dead... when he got here. But the... doctors... tried everything they could... to bring him back.” She stood hunched over and cried deep, heavy sobs as Mom sat there with numb shock all over her flushed face. “He’s been gone for over an hour now. I’m so sorry!”
Mom’s face slowly changed from open-mouthed shock to a watery-eyed grimace as the truth sank in. She shook her head several times, whispering the word “no” with every shake. Tears slid down her cheeks. Another contraction seized her and she began wailing like Grandma had after Roxie had tried to contact her in spirit. A nurse came over and gave Mom a mix of words of comfort, and encouragement to push again. When the nurse tried to take hold her free hand, Mom wrenched it away. She gently pushed away Grandma and hugged herself just above her swollen belly. A second nurse ran in and guided Grandma to a seat near the window.
The first one said, “Dana, you need to keep pushing for the baby’s sake.”
Mom shook her head. “Leave me alone! Can’t you see I’m grieving?”
Sekiro slipped her hand under Roxie’s oval shield and held her hand. The slight furrowing of her brows and her silver eyes radiated empathy. Roxie appreciated the gesture, even though she didn’t find it necessary. She knew both her parents were going to die. She’d had eighteen years to get used to the truth. The only shock with her father had been his guilt. The only mystery surrounding her mom was the way she’d died.
The nurse said, “I know. I’m sorry. We didn’t want to tell you about your husband’s death until after your daughter’s born. I’m really sorry. You’ve been in labor for ten hours now. Please think of your baby and keep pushing.”
“I don’t want it anymore. Cut it out.”
The vehemence and flatness in Mom’s tone made Roxie’s grip on Sekiro’s hand go limp. The floor felt like it dropped out from under her and her balance wavered. Her wings bumped into the wall. She curled them around her sides and shoulders, and leaned against the cold wall, fighting the need to slide to the ground and just stare. Something in her gut told her she needed to stay on her feet.
“What? Why?” The shock in Grandma’s voice perfectly matched Roxie’s emotions.
Mom gave her a red-faced glare. Her rage filled the room to the point where Roxie could feel herself getting angry. Shouldn’t she feel furious at her mother for rejecting her so quickly?
No. This was her mother, the only mother she’d ever have. She loved her, flaws and all, just like any good daughter should. She pushed the anger away.
“Charlie is my life.” She rounded on the nurse. “Cut the thing out!”
Sekiro leaned against Roxie and Roxie leaned into her, needing all the comfort she could get. She wanted to run away from this unfolding nightmare, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away any more than she’d been able to look away when the sports car get eaten up by the bus they’d ridden to New York.
Grandma said, “That ‘thing’ is your daughter. My granddaughter. She’s your life now.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want it.” Mom doubled over with another contraction. Her accompanying moan sounded like she was pushing.
The nurse moved to the foot of the gurney and forced Mom’s feet into the birthing stirrups. She sagged with relief when Mom left her feet there. “Dana, we do cesareans only when a life is in danger of being lost. You are perfectly healthy and dilated enough for a safe delivery.”
Mom gave her a measuring look. Grandma wrung her hands and silently watched, hope and fear lining her teary face. “Fine. But once it’s out, take it away. I want nothing to do with it.”