Precipice (Tribe 2) (2 page)

“Look, I thought Ember had it under control.  She
did
have it under control.  Alex won’t tell anyone.  I can tell.  He’s not that kind of guy.”

“Yeah,” muttered Meadow, “
but he’ll call up our sister at the drop of a hat, and beg her to risk our whole family in order to save his own.”

“Look,” Mom said with a weary sigh, “I understand that having feelings for this boy makes it even harder to say no, but you have to.  Think about what will happen to all of us if someone starts asking questions.  Two miraculous recoveries in one family?”

Guilt wracked my brain…but I couldn’t tell her that it was too late.  Questions were already being asked.  But if she knew that, they’d never let me go.  They’d drag me off tonight, and I’d never see Alex again. 

“Everything will be fine, Mom.  I’ll be careful.  Please.  I need to go, before it’s too late!”

“I’m sorry, Em, I just can’t let you go.”

“What are you going to do, Mom?  Tie me down?  Make River and Meadow sit on me?  It doesn’t matter how long you hold me hostage; I’ll still go.  Sooner or later, I’ll go. And if I can’t, I’ll send a constant stream of distance healing.  You’ve always told me you didn’t want to control my life—you wanted to let all us kids make our own decisions and learn from our mistakes.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll let you put your brother and sister at risk because you have a soft heart.”

“I’d rather have a soft heart than a hard one!  You work around sick and dying people all day, Mom.  How can you stand it?  How can you sit there and watch people die?  I’d rather be dead myself, than live with a cold, empty heart like that!”

My mother blanched at my words, and immediately I regretted them.

“Very well,” she said, taking her hand off the car.  “Do what you need to do.  Just remember, if this goes south, you’ve ripped away the life that we all love.  Your brother and sister will lose everything, and we’ll
all
pay for your mistake.  Remember that.”  She yanked open the car door and held it open for me. 

I glanced back at the rest of my family.  Meadow stood with her ar
ms crossed, angry and resentful. Dad was furious—probably at my outburst toward Mom.  And Mom was just…hurt.  I could feel the hurt rolling off her in waves.  I wanted to say I was sorry, but I knew that would just soften her, and make her appeal to me in plaintive tones that might melt my resolve.  I’d lost too much time already.

I climbed into the car and pulled the door shut.  River came jogging up to the car—he’d slipped away during the argument, and returned with a backpack in his hand, yanking open the car door. 

“You can’t go unprepared this time.”  He handed it to me, and I knew what was inside.  “Try not to go healing full-tilt like last time.  Mom hasn’t gotten the blood supply back up to where it was before, yet.  Don’t end up hurting a whole hospital full of people just to save one person.”

I took the bag, grateful that my brother was thinking clearly when the rest of us were too emotional to do so.  “Thanks, Riv.  I’ll be careful.  I promise.”

River shut the car door.  Mom stepped back and Dad put his arm around her, but his hard gaze never left my face.  Disapproval rolled off them all, stifling me.  Only River could understand, a little, why I was doing what I was doing.  He had an inkling of how I felt about Alex, and he knew Alex wouldn’t tell.  Even so, I could tell River still resented the risk my actions posed to him.

I started the car, backing up in a tight arc, then pulling away in a cloud of dust.

I didn’t look back.

On the way, I debated whether or not to use distance healing.  Contrary to what my mother might think, I was trying to be conscious of the amount of risk I was willing to expose my family to.

If I healed Mrs. Baxter by distance, without knowing the extent of her injuries, it was possible that I might heal her too much, and call attention to the situation.  In any other case, it wouldn’t be too much of a risk, because since I wasn’t there, it wouldn’t call attention to me, in particular.  But since she was a Baxter, who knows how much word had spread through the hospital about Alex’s miraculous recovery?  I already knew at least one visiting doctor in the hospital had heard about it, so the staff had to be talking. 

But if I didn’t heal her as soon as I could, and she really was seriously injured, she could die before I arrived.  Would Alex forgive me?  Could I forgive myself?

And then I had to worry about the fractures—ideally, bones should be re-set before sending healing energy, or they could begin to knit while they were still out of alignment.  It didn’t happen often, but it was a risk, and it could mean permanent disfigurement along with other potential complications.

As I made my way down the steep and winding mountain road
in the gathering dusk, I debated back and forth. In the end, I decided to send out only the tiniest amount of healing streaming toward Mrs. Baxter.  I wasn’t even sure how well it would work—distance healing could be iffy, at times—and I could only hope that it would be enough to keep her alive until I got there.

Chapter 3

It was almost
eight o’clock when I got to the hospital.  I had made good time, having run a few yellow lights and taken the risk of driving ten miles an hour over the limit—I didn’t dare do more, traveling on I-90, knowing how well-patrolled it was once you crossed over into Washington. 

I pulled into the ER parking lot and rushed inside, asking about Mrs. Baxter at the information
desk. 

“Ember!”
  Alex’s voice startled me from the far end of the waiting room, as he strode toward me.

I turned and rushed toward him.

Alex enveloped me in his arms, squeezing tight.  “Thank you for coming.  I couldn’t get through this without you,” he murmured, close to my ear.  He took me by the hand and led me to the far corner of the long, narrow waiting room, where his father stood, pacing. 

“Mr. Baxter, I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”  I put my hand on his shoulder briefly, giving him a short burst of energy to calm his nerves, as I spoke. 
“How is she doing?”

“I—they’re not sure yet.  They’re not telling us anything.  Just that she has
multiple broken bones, and they’re worried about internal bleeding.  And…I don’t think she’s breathing right.  We tried to sneak in, but they pushed us away from the trauma room.  And…her breathing wasn’t right.”

I
reached out to squeeze Alex’s hand.  “And what about x-rays?”

“X-rays?”  Mr. Baxter seemed to be disoriented.  I had put up a shield before I came in the hospital, knowing that I’d be assaulted not only by the distress of Alex and Mr. Baxter, but everyone around me.  I could feel my boundaries being assaulted by pain, fear, and worry.  I strengthened it—hospitals always wore me out—and turned to Alex, repeating my question.

“Uh, I think they did some kind of x-ray.  Or scan.  They were in a big rush, so they brought in a portable machine for a quick check.  They just brought her up to surgery.  They’re supposed to come tell us once she’s up there, and tell us where to go wait.”

That wasn’t good.  I knew the chance of me getting there before ER x-rays were taken was slim, but I still had hoped.

“Hey Dad,” Alex said gently, “I’m going to talk to Ember alone for a minute.  Is that okay?”

His dad looked up, glancing at me.  I knew he was grateful that I’d come—I could sense that he was worried about Alex. Mr. Baxter nodded.  “Stay close.”

Alex led me around the corner, out of earshot of any nurses.  “Can you do it?”

“Yes, but…here’s the thing.  I have to be careful.  Really careful.  This is a bad situation, almost as bad as yours.  There’s a lot of attention on her, she’s probably had multiple consults, and there’s some kind of scans or x-rays on record.  They’re prepping her for surgery right now.  If I heal her too much, there will be proof.  Concrete proof.  If her fractured bones show remodeling, they’ll know something is up when they do follow-up x-rays.  It could look like she’s been healing for two months if they take x-rays
a week from now.  We can’t risk that. 
I
can’t risk that.”

“I know…but what if she dies?”

“I’m not going to let that happen.  Not if I can help it.  But I just wanted you to understand—this isn’t an exact science.  I’ve never done this before.  I tried to do it with you, but I ended up caving and healing you completely—and now people are asking questions.  If I do that again—especially with another person from the Baxter family—it could bring too much attention to me, or my family.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you, you know that.”  He lifted a hand to caress my cheek, and my knees went weak.  “Just do whatever you can.  If you can just keep her alive long enough for them to do the surgery…”

“I’m pretty sure I can do that.  But…Alex…what I
can’t
do is stop the pain.”

His face paled.  “You can’t?  Why not?” 

“There are going to be too many sources of pain.  I’d have to do some major healing to stop that.  The only pain relief she’ll get will be from whatever drugs they give her.”

I could see him struggling to hold back tears. 

He nodded.  “Okay.  Just do what you can.”

“I need to get as close as possible to her.  I can do it over distance, but it can be…tricky…in a case like this.  I have to know exactly when to stop.  Closer is better.  Touching her would be best, but there’s zero chance of that happening in a trauma situation.”

Alex frowned.  “I forgot about the distance healing.  Didn’t you start it on the way?”

I had hoped he wouldn’t catch that.  “Um…
not really.  Not much.  The situation is just too complicated.  I needed to know more about her condition, and what they were doing with her, before I knew how much energy to give.”

Alex dropped my hand, and I felt the chill of his betrayed feelings.  “What if she had died?”

I could feel the fury welling up in him.  He narrowed his gaze, and his chest heaved with pent-up emotion.

“Alex,” I took his hand again, squeezing it.  “What if
I
die?  What if, because I do this, they round up me and my family, and experiment on us until they end up killing us?  I care about your mom, I really do, but her life isn’t the only one in the balance.  Even with my life at risk, I’d do it for you, whatever it took—
if
there was no one else for me to worry about.”

He sighed, sagging against the wall.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.  I’m being selfish.”

“No you’re not, you’re being a good son.  Now let’s try to go find her, quick.”

“Alex!” Mr. Baxter called. 

We walked back around the corner to find Mr. Baxter talking to a nurse. 

“Your mom is about to go in for surgery,” he told us.  “They want us up in the surgery waiting room, so they can keep us updated.”

We followed the directions the nurse gave us, taking the elevator to an upper floor and winding through the maze of corridors. 

Alex’s dad took a seat, staring blankly at the television mounted high in the corner.  His hands shook a little. 

“How about I go find you some coffee, Dad?  It looks like it’s going to be a long night.”

His father nodded imperceptibly. 

We slipped away once all the nurses were occupied.  We stole through the set of doors that we knew led to the surgical area.  When we heard voices, we ducked into a supply closet full of shelves of hospital bed sheets, pillows, and boxes.  When the voices faded into the distance, we stepped out again.

I had a vague idea of where to go—Mom usually worked on a different surgical floor, but she’d worked on this one a few times, and when I volunteered, I often met her for lunch, so I’d been back in that area a few times.  I crept down the hall, Alex in tow, toward the surgical prep area.  The noise and bustling grew louder, and as I peeked around the corner, I saw two doctors hovering over a body on a gurney. 

It looked like one might be putting a central line into the patient’s neck.  As the doctor moved aside, I could see that it was Mrs. Baxter.  Her skin was pale, her face slack, and there were smears of blood along her jawline.  They’d put a stretchy cap over her hair, and her clothes were gone, replaced by a sheet that covered her.  Smears of blood stained the fresh gowns worn by the doctors.

Beside me, Alex gasped, and instantly I had my hand over his mouth, pulling him back.  I motioned for him to be quiet and go back out the doors to the waiting room.  He bit his lip, and I could feel his desire to argue, but he nodded and headed reluctantly for the waiting room doors.

Peering around the corner again, I saw the two doctors move away, and go across the hall into the surgical suite.  A nurse fussed around Mrs. Baxter’s head, then reached for something in her tray.  Apparently what she was looking for was missing, because she left and went down the hall into another room.

I stepped out, reaching into my bag as I walked toward Mrs. Baxter.  Ignoring the cold plastic as my hand brushed against the blood bag I had slipped into my purse before leaving my car, I pulled out my hospital ID that I wore when volunteering, and clipped it onto my shirt. 

As I approached, I could see her breathing was labored, and they’d already done a few patch jobs on her, with bandages covering multiple wounds on her exposed shoulders and her forehead. The monitors beeped, and glancing at the readouts, her pulse was faint and erratic, as was her breathing.  She was banged up worse than I’d ever seen anyone hurt—but then, I didn’t usually venture into the ER on my volunteer days. 

I lifted my hands and scanned her body, staying back a few feet.  If they found me at her side, my excuse for being back in the surgical area wouldn’t hold water, and I could get booted from the hospital.

My stomach flipped.  As bad as she looked on the outside, it was so much worse on the inside.  If the staff knew how bad the internal bleeding was, they’d be rushing even faster to get her in the operating room.  I could see the warm spots where blood pooled around her organs.  I suspected they thought they’d fixed the worst of it, and were going in for the “bleeders”, as Mom called them.  But they hadn’t.  If they got her in soon, they
might
save her.  If not…

Then a wall of pain hit me, and I felt like a Mack truck had just flattened me.  I gasped, falling to my knees just as I realized my mistake—Mrs. Baxter wasn’t alone.  A nurse stepped out from the prep area alcove that Mrs. Baxter’s gurney was in.  She must have been back in the corner
, doing prep work.  The woman dropped the latex gloves in her hand and rushed over to me.

“What’s wrong?  You shouldn’t be back here.  Are you alright?”

I gripped my stomach, reinforcing my protective shield, and pushing away the onslaught of Mrs. Baxter’s pain. 

“I’m…I’m okay,” I gasped as the worst of the pain receded.  “It’s…uh…I get really bad cramps.  You know…at that time of the month.”

“Oh my goodness, you should see a doctor about that.  They can give you pain meds, if they’re that bad.”  She helped me up.

My knees were weak, and my legs shaky. 

“Can you walk?”  She glanced back at Mrs. Baxter, obviously uneasy to leave her alone.

One of the doctors came out of the OR, followed by a nurse.  They both stopped and stared at me.

“No family allowed back here, Carol.  You should know that.”

“I—”

“Oh, I’m not family,” I gestured toward Mrs. Baxter.  “I’m Ember, Shanti Perry’s daughter.” I lifted my badge from my shirt to call attention to it.  “I came to meet her for her break.”

The doctor turned away and picked up the chart on the floor, casting Carol a sharp glance.

“She got a bad cramp—I had to help her up off the floor.”  The nurse turned to me.  “Honey, your mom isn’t on shift here tonight—not on this floor.  Doesn’t she usually work upstairs?”

I widened my eyes.  “She’s not here?  I could have sworn she said she was down here tonight.  Man, I’d better hurry, or I’ll miss her break entirely.  Sorry for the interruption.”  I glanced over at Mrs. Baxter.  “I hope that lady will be alright.”

“If we didn’t have your interruption, she’d be in the OR already,” the doctor snapped, and nodded to Carol and the other nurse, who was already releasing the brake on the gurney. 

I walked away as they rolled her into the surgical suite, but I didn’t leave.  Just as I got to the surgical ward doors, I stopped and turned around.  Everyone was already inside the OR
suite.  I knew the nurses would be busy finishing the prep inside, while the doctors would be scrubbing in for the surgery.  This late at night, I didn’t think I’d run into any more staff out in the hall, but I had to be careful.  Another emergency surgery could crop up, with a whole new surgical staff swarming the place.

I crept up to the OR, and risked a peek through the crack between the double doors.  I could see Mrs. Baxter’s legs on the gurney, and two nurses bustling around her.  Others passed by the door, indicating there were a lot more people in the room than just the four or five people I’d seen go in.  I could hear one doctor giving out orders.  There was a quiet urgency in his voice.

I lifted my hands, holding them in front of the doors.  I wished there were windows in the doors so I could see more than just the tiny bit through the crack, but I’d likely just get caught, anyway, with so many people in the room. 

Vibrations of pain still leaked through my shield, and I could feel the combined concern of the surgical staff behind the doors.  But I didn’t feel any emotions coming from Mrs. Baxter—only the pain.  She was completely out of it, and that was a blessing, but I could feel her life force ebbing away.  She needed to fight.

I opened the channels of energy within me, slowly at first.  I listened over the bustle for the repetitive beeping of the monitor, indicating her heartbeats.  It would be better if I could see the rise and fall of her respirations on the monitor—knowing both would help me know better when to stop—but I’d just have to guess. 

I let a little more energy flow through, and I realized my mom was right—it would be hard for me not to heal her completely.  Every fiber of my being wanted to throw the flood gates open, and unleash a torrent of healing energy.  And why shouldn’t I?  What good was I, if I couldn’t save the mother of the guy I loved?