Fledgling: Book 1 (Afterlife) (21 page)

Cindy’s glare is burrowing into me. I turn to face her again with my face pleading. “Cindy, I honestly don’t know why we are sent here.” I step forward and reach out my hand to her, and she moves away. With my history, I don’t blame her for accusing me first. “I will admit that I was nervous that they would find something, especially Archangel Uriel. But I promise you the only thing that he viewed that was remotely disobedient was when I was insisting that we name you.”

Cindy let out an aggravated groan. “I knew that would amount to no good.”

Ben steps forward and places an arm around her shoulders. “I wouldn’t worry about it. The memory would show that you did not want a name because you didn’t want to break the rules. I don’t see how this would get you into trouble.” He looks at me for confirmation.

“That’s true Cin—” I begin to say.

“Don’t call me that!” she screams. “Because of you two, I am probably going to be sent to the abyss.” She pushes Ben’s arm off her shoulders and stomps off into the bushes.
 

As I watch her go, I collapse onto a rock. Her body language tells me she needs to be alone right now, so I don’t follow. Remorse fills me as I observe her retreat. I shouldn’t have insisted that she use the name, she was not ready for it, yet I do not see how she would be found guilty.
 

My attention diverts when my body nudges gently sideways. Ben is using his body to prod me over as he sits next to me. With his body pressed up against mine, my anxiety decreases.
 

He wraps an arm around my waist. “Hey, she’ll get over it. I can’t see how she would be in trouble.”

“That’s what I keep thinking,” I say as I look into his eyes. Even in my despair I cannot ignore the attraction. “Did they see anything in you that we didn’t want them too?”
 

He shakes his head. “They didn’t look.”

“What, they didn’t look past your mission?”

His eyes are sympathetic as he shakes his head.

“Great, so Archangel Uriel has it in for just me,” I say disheartened.
 

“Looks that way.” Ben chuckles.

“Thanks a lot.”

“I was just kidding.” He rubs my leg near the knee and it sends tingles up my body. “Did they even see anything that we are to be concerned about?”

“I wouldn’t think so, other than the name giving. Archangel Uriel was very close to seeing us in the forest though. He would have kept going if it weren't for Archangel Gabriel interrupting.”
 

“Maybe we should have given him something better to watch.” He leans in closer to me running his hand higher up my leg.
 

I stand. “You’re trouble. In fact, you’re more trouble than I am, yet I am the one getting caught all the time.”
 

He grins and stands with me. “I was in trouble too, remember?” The sun glimmers on his bare chest catching my eye. Before I can stop myself, my eyes are travelling over his toned muscles. He takes this as his invitation to move forward.
 

Realising what he was doing, I take the smallest of steps backward and shake my head. “Not here, not now. An archangel will arrive here at any moment.”

He pouts and somehow makes his eyes look genuinely sad.
 

I laugh. “Oh, stop it. You know I’m right. Besides, Cindy's anger will increase if she busts us.”

His pout changes into a smile. “I know, but you can’t blame a boy for trying.”

Confident that he was going to stop, I sit on the grass. It crackles softly under my weight. Sticks and bits of dirt dig into my palms. Even though it was not like a nicely mown lawn, it was nice to feel nature. I pull my knees to my chest, then wipe my hands on my legs and hug my knees. “I hate waiting.”

“I know, me too,” Ben says as he sits next to me. “If that is all he saw then I think we will be fine. They obviously need us for this mission as they can’t find anyone else they think is capable.” He reaches out and holds my hand. My hand looks so pale and frail compared to his. He takes it to his lap and clasps the back with his other hand. The warmth and firmness of his hands around mine soothes me. There has always been something about him that has a calming effect even before our personal involvement. He is always looking out for people, not just me. I begin to think maybe this stems from his past when I realise that I don’t know anything about him before we were fledglings.
 

I bump him lightly with my shoulder. “What was your life like before?”

His brow creases. “Do you mean as a human?”

I nod. “I’ve just realised I don’t know what it was like.”

“You know that is breaking the rules, right?”

I exhale loudly. “It is starting to feel like everything is breaking the rules.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant is that you know that an archangel will come here at any moment, and this could land you . . . well . . . us in trouble.”

“More trouble, don’t you mean? I just want to know more about your past life, especially the last one.” I pause, trying to think of a way around any more repercussions. “Maybe if you just let me see how you died they would not consider it as breaking the rules? It might be seen more as caring.”

“O-kay.” He sounds hesitant, and I see something in his eyes I haven’t seen before. He looks uncertain.
 

“What’s wrong? Do you have something you don’t want me to see?”

He shakes his head. “It is just a little weird and um . . . embarrassing, not to mention that it is rather gruesome.”

His comment causes me to smile. “Hey, we were all murdered. What isn’t gruesome about that? I’m certain that none of us died pretty.”

His eyes search my face and rest gazing into mine. The hesitation intrigues me more. What doesn’t he want me to see?

“You can trust me. I won’t tell anyone unless you want me to,” I say.

He looks down as he releases my hand and slowly rubs his hands together. I can tell he is in deep thought. After a short pause, he turns to me and says, “All right. I am not keen on reliving it myself, but I will if it means that much to you.” His voice is crackling as though the words are hard to get out.
 

Guilt builds within me. Once again, I am asking too much of him. “Are you sure?”
 

He nods.
 

Remaining seated, I reach my hand up and touch his forehead. His face has lost its colour, and my hand almost matches in tone. His eyes are fixed, almost with a shocked look.
 

“If you want me to stop, let me know.” I mean it. His look is starting to unsettle me. “Do you want to change your mind?”

He shakes his head.

With my finger illuminating, I begin the process. I fast rewind past his life as a fledgling. I am familiar with most of that life. Images and feelings flicker past. I am certain that I need to go further back, so I mentally jump several months of his life. When I slow down the memory, what I see and feel does not ring true for what I know of his life as a fledgling, so I begin to watch his memory.
 

Before my eyes, there is a vision of a fire truck — big, bright and red, sitting inside a fire station. Over Ben’s head, an alarm bell is ringing. It is so loud I want to place my hands over my ears. Instead, I watch as he reaches out. His hands are masculine and strong. He grabs a fire hat off the hook before hastily making his way into the truck with the big yellow stripe running horizontally down the side. My eyes catch an emblem in line with the stripe — Queensland Fire and Rescue Service. A smile spreads across my face. I find it amusing to find that he is from Queensland, the same state that I am from in Australia.

Climbing in with several others, he manages to sit before it begins to drive out of the station. On the outside of the truck, the siren is blaring above us.

As we drive, a voice calls out, “We have a possible arson attack in a high-rise building. There are several people reported as trapped inside.”
 

My eyes look for the owner of the voice. The report is coming from the man looking to be in his forties sitting in the front seat. I cannot see much of him for his yellow protective uniform is sealed up to his chin, and his head is under a yellow, skirted helmet. The uniform is so big and bulky it is hard to tell if the man is overweight or slim and toned. Ben moves his head. From his vision, I notice that his skin feels to be in a similar type of uniform, with his arms covered in the same type of material with his hands are wearing big, padded black gloves.

The man continues, “There are no known explosives inside the building, but keep your eyes open for any explosives or gas cylinders. Stick to the usual safety procedures. And men . . . keep safe. We do not kill ourselves to save others.” His eyes are serious and creased with concern.
 

The emotions I feel are indifferent to his speech. From Ben’s reaction, I am sure he has heard it many times before.
 

A few minutes pass and we have stopped outside a high-rise building. The devastation knocks me immediately with full force. We need to save those people. Charging out of his seat, and out of the truck’s door he immediately sets up the rescue equipment. With the large hose in hand, I start approaching the building. It is only six storeys high. The two bottom levels are completely engulfed, and not allowing people in the higher levels past, to safety.
 

A blood-curdling scream fills my ears. His eyes scan the building. On the second floor, a lady is on fire completely covered in flames. Taking a chance, she runs to the window and jumps out. Onlookers are standing nearby, watching in horror. A crunch of bones is audible as she hits the pavement. Several onlookers run to her with a blanket laden with water, throwing it on her. Her body remains still, even with the flames extinguished.
 

Desperate to save the remaining people, he starts running with his colleagues to the edge of the building with the hose and call for action. Water jets out the end as we direct it into the burning building. He doesn’t want any more lives lost. He looks up. There are people standing on ledges and screaming out the windows waving their hands. An overwhelming urge rises within him to help them.
 

Ben calls out to the man who was yelling out the instructions in the truck on the way here. His voice sounds exactly like Ben’s voice sounds now, with a smooth baritone ring. “Chief.” The man looks in Ben’s direction, and he continues. “Can we get the fire truck ladder over there? I want to climb up and help them.” He indicates the people on the higher levels. “Before it is too late.”

He looks at Ben, his eyes are concerned as he asks, “You really think you can do it?”

Deep down, I can sense that Ben is not certain, but he is not about to tell the chief that. He just wants to see the people safe; this is all he cares about. “Yes,” I hear his answer.

The chief doesn’t look convinced.
 

“I’m the fittest and fastest. I can do it.” Ben tries again.

His face still looks worried. A siren shrills as a second fire truck screeches around the corner. He gazes quickly at the backup then turns back to Ben. “You need to take David with you.”

Following Ben’s gaze as he looks at David I can sense he is new to the service and doesn’t look too pleased about going into the building. Turning back to the chief Ben says, “I can do it on my own.”

He shakes his head. “Gotta follow safety protocol. Two people go in together.” Another scream sounds from the building. “You better make it quick, kid.”

“Yes, Chief.”

The chief goes to the truck and backs it up to the building aiming the ladder at level three first. As soon as they secure the ladder, Ben is climbing to the top with a breathing apparatus on his back and hauling the large, coiled hose into the window. I am surprised by the strength I feel passing through his muscles as he drags the heavy equipment up several storeys. The ladder is rocking slightly with David climbing behind him. Instantly I am struck by the intense heat and smoke that hits Ben’s body. He pulls his fire mask on, turns around and hooks the buddy line to David, and they begin their search.
 

With the adrenaline pumping, strong emotions flood over me as he walks through the smoke and flicks of fire starting to lap around the edges. Fear, devastation, and bravery swelling purely from his desire to save lives, engulf me.
 

The feeling is so strong and raw. I begin to wonder if I am intruding too much into his personal life. I don’t want to overstep my mark. After a moment’s hesitation, I focus my attention on his deep blue eyes to read his real-time emotions. I can see he is not comfortable, yet I think I see trust there.
 

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He nods although his eyes still betray his braveness.

“Do you want me to stop?”

He pauses, then shakes his head. I stroke my spare hand through his short dark brown hair at his temple. He breathes out and seems to relax by my touch.

Focussing back to where I left off, I see the level completely smothered in smoke. Ben starts looking on the floor following his instincts. It wouldn’t be surprising if the residents were lying on the floor unconscious. Crouching and walking in a unique motion with his feet first, he begins searching through the rooms. Each time he reaches a foot out in front of him, it is overextended, and he moves it in a sweeping motion. His foot hits something on the floor. He stops and looks at the guilty item lying on the kitchen floor. It is a foot. His eyes follow the leg up, and he scoops up the elderly lady in his arms with surprising strength and ease. She is unconscious and completely relaxed making it more difficult to carry the floppy body.
 

The strength travelling through his arms surprises me. He is stronger than I expect. He progresses to the window, following David’s lead over a clear floor to find the Chief waiting for them. He is balancing up the top of the ladder and behind him is another young member of the team.
 

Carefully, he passes the lady out the window to the chief. It would be a difficult task for them to carry her down, but with two of them, they should have it sorted. He turns in search of more people. The smoke is getting thicker by the minute, but he continues with David only metres away and attached by a line. Despite his own fears, he is determined that no one will be left behind.