Chapter Chapter Thirteen: A Friend in Need

“What happened?” Imogene asked.

“I’m sorry, Imogene,” the Shard replied. “I thought he would be aiming for you. I am not strong enough to protect so many at once.”

Imogene opened her eyes and found herself in the field of pink-purple light. Again she was floating and she felt fine, except for the memory of hearing a gunshot as they made their escape.

“Protect so many?” she asked as she looked around. “Where is everyone?”

“You are still with them,” the Shard answered. “But I drew you to me and placed you in stasis.”

“Stasis?” Imogene asked.

“It was the only way,” she said with a fearful tone.

“I don’t care about that,” Imogene said. “I want to know what happened. Now let me out of here!” she screamed and pretty soon her voice echoed in her mind as the black veil once again covered her. It was quickly removed and Imogene could see that they were approaching the first Gateway, but she did not keep her attention on that for too long. Hers was not the only voice that screamed and she looked at Wayne who seemed to be suffering the worst; blind, in an unknown place and without anyone to calm him. But a closer look revealed that Wayne could have cared less about the trip his body was now taking. He put his hand to his face and where spots of blood had been, there were now streaks.

“What happened?” Wayne cried out. “What’s this on me?!”

Imogene scanned the group, as it was obvious the blood had not come from Wayne for him to be calling out the way he was.

“No,” she gasped as she looked at Sharon’s motionless form clutched tightly in her crying father’s hands. “Sharon? No, not Sharon. Not Sharon!” But Imogene could not even hear herself over the screams of everyone else. The only calm body in the group was her father who reached out for Sharon and touched her neck. When he touched her, Sharon’s eyes blinked.

“I’ve got a pulse!” Timothy tried to tell to Alan, but Imogene doubted the man would have heard her father even in complete silence. The screams were stabbing at her brain as they drew closer and closer to the Gateway.

“

!” Imogene thought. “

.” She looked around, but only her father seemed to be waiting for her words. Words he would never hear. Imogene’s fists clinched in anger and frustration. She was not going to watch Sharon die in the grips of a panic.

“Everybody stop!” Imogene screamed and her voice carried throughout the group, the Gateway and even the Nexus.

“

, ,” he thought as he took a seat in his rocking chair. His pipe was already lit this time, so there was nothing else to do but sit back and enjoy the show. “

,” he remarked as he puffed on his pipe. “

” He chuckled as once again she turned away and returned to Earth. He laughed aloud and nodded. “

!”

“Now we don’t have much time,” Imogene shouted as she reached out for her father. “Everyone link up to my Dad,” she directed as she looked into Timothy’s brown eyes.

“What’s the plan, Genie?” Timothy asked, hoping his ‘not what I wanted, but okay’ smile would be taken as genuine.

“You remember our first landing?” Imogene asked and Timothy’s smile became genuine and several degrees brighter.

“I sure do,” Timothy said as he reached out for Alan. “A bit of trust would be good here, Alan.”

“And everyone close your eyes!” Gordon added. Father and son met eyes and Gordon smiled. “We landing on a beach.” Gordon smiled as his feet met with the ground. He felt as if he had jumped down about three feet. But he saw the burst of wind that had made him roll for so long. Only this time it was the five people who worked for Optimum Horizons that were blown off their feet. Obviously coming back with Imogene, and being connected to her, was easier on a body than standing nearby. Three of the five were actually airborne for a moment. The other two slid back on the sand.

Imogene and Wayne took hold of Sharon, and Alan Thaxton moved like a panther over the top of the police car, landing on one of the five men and relieving him of his pistol. He put two shots into the Asian man’s chest and one into the woman, as they were still unfamiliar with Sheriff Thaxton.

“Alright!” he yelled as Jarvis came to a stop close to the nearly unconscious Asian man. “That’s the last shot I make for something covered. The next one I take will be a head shot and I will not stop with just one of you being dead!

“Gordon!” Alan called out.

“I’m on it!” Gordon said as he ran out and collected their weapons. Jarvis and Frank were quick to pick up pistols.

“Alan,” Timothy said, “we’ve got this. Get Sharon to a doctor!” Imogene and Wayne were already carrying her toward the closest police car, Imogene whispering directions to Wayne who did not stumble and took most of Sharon’s weight. He was getting bigger, but he was even stronger than he looked. By the time they had her in the back seat, Alan was behind the wheel. The cruiser sped off while Jarvis dispensed a little immediate justice. The way Timothy felt, he did not have a reason to stop the young man.

It took three hours for the people to be processed and placed in a cell. All of a sudden Jarvis’ ineptitude had become a boon. The five of them remained detained for nearly fifteen minutes before they were released by the Mayor. After that episode, Jarvis decided to join Sheriff Thaxton at the hospital. There may have been little love between the two men, but the loss of life or the threat thereof had a way of calling a truce to lesser squabbles. Jarvis came into the hospital toting a large tray of coffee and breakfast sandwiches from the Oceanside Diner. It was not his favorite place to eat, but he knew the place was popular with the beach-going crowd.

“Sheriff? Mrs. Thaxton?” he said in a very humble voice and found it hard to keep from crying.

“Jarvis,” Nora Thaxton said as she put her hand to the side of his face. “Don’t. Don’t you dare start crying for my baby. We cry for the dead, son,” she continued. “And my girl is going to walk out of this hospital.

“Here, let me take this,” she said as she reached for the food and coffee. “You can sit over there next to Gordon.” Jarvis nodded as tears rolled down his face. He walked over toward Gordon, but did not see an open chair. The youngest Schultz looked up and tried to offer a smile as he got up and ushered Jarvis to his spot.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“I’ve been sitting for hours,” Gordon explained. “Please.” Jarvis put his hand on the young boy and sat down. He looked around the room and wanted to say something to break the silence, but nothing fitting came to mind, and he let his head hang low like everyone else.

“And I see you over there,” Nora said to her husband. “That man shot her because she got the better of him, and he wasn’t man enough to handle it.”

“No training and she wouldn’t have gotten the better of him.”

“And from what you told me about these people, she could be dead!” Nora said as she took a seat in her husband’s lap. She knew he did not want to cuddle, but she also knew he would not refuse her any contact right now. “Only then you’d be kicking yourself saying, ‘if I’d just taught my little girl how to take care of herself, she wouldn’t be in this mess!’ right?”

“We might lose her, Nora!”

“Oh my man, my man!” she sighed as she brought his head to her chest. “Welcome to my world every time you walk out of our door.”

“How do you stand it?” Alan asked, on the verge of losing it.

“I married a good man who has to do some good in this world,” she answered. “Now I could tell him to stay home and he would, because he loves his family that much. But what about that little college girl who was almost killed by her boyfriend? Or the drugs you’ve taken off our streets that could have killed our Genie or Gordon? Or the people that you’ve helped Eleanor and Frank find a home for in this country when they’ve been sold or abandoned? How do I keep that kind of good to myself?”

“That’s my deal, not Sharon’s.”

“Oh, you be quiet now,” Nora said, smiling and patting his head as she held him. “You’re starting to talk utter nonsense!”

“Is this a hospital or a therapy group?” Wilma asked as she walked into the hospital. “There’s enough self-blame going on here to guarantee the words and for at least another millennia.”

“Wilma?!” Imogene said as she got up out of her chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching you!” Wilma said with a bright smile. “You’re something special, Genie, I’ll grant you that!

“How are you, Timothy?” Wilma asked.

“I’m just fine, Wilma,” he answered.

“What, no ?”

“I get the feeling you’d just correct me,” Timothy said with a poor excuse for a smile spreading across his face.

“Hmmm, you’re getting sharper!”

Timothy could not explain it, but he was beyond reason. He fell forward and wrapped his arms around Wilma and started crying on her shoulder. What surprised Imogene was Wilma’s reaction as she reached up to catch him and embraced him with her eyes closed. Their embrace was brief, but it seemed to be just the right amount of time as Timothy recomposed himself. He looked into Wilma’s eyes and nodded; she smiled and returned the nod.

“You’ve got a choice to make, Genie,” Wilma said as she turned to face Imogene. She looked down for a moment and closed her eyes. When then opened, her pupils had been replaced with two small globes of yellow light.

“A choice?” Imogene managed to speak and Wilma stepped away from Timothy who looked to be still holding Wilma’s arms, but he did not move. In fact, no one in the lobby and waiting area was moving.

“

,” Imogene thought, “

!”

“Who remembers and who doesn’t!” Wilma continued. “Here you are, the first living Shard in a long time, and you go around making around any and everyone, whether you know them or not. I would have been here sooner, but Jarvis over there called something called a tabloid and swore his story would be backed up by his dashboard camera.”

“Oh no!” Imogene gasped.

“Not to worry, dear,” Wilma said in a calming tone. “Nothing of works on that ‘cruiser’ anymore and after we’re done here, there will be no one to corroborate his story, including his memory. But inasmuch as I am not as young as I used to be, I can’t hold this forever.”

“Oh, right! My Dad,” she opted and Timothy flashed yellow and was able to move and know all that had happened in the last few minutes. “And Gordon of course!” she added and Gordon also flashed yellow. “And Wayne,” she said in a softer tone. “That should do it.”

“Interesting choices,” Wilma thought.

“And there you have it!” Wilma said as she closed her eyes. A flash of yellow light and the five of them were in Sharon’s room as the doctors were leaving.

“Her brain activity is falling steadily by the minute,” one doctor said. “We better tell the parents to make arrangements.”

Imogene took in a breath to scream, but Wilma’s hand was over her mouth before she could.

“Hrmph!” Wilma snorted as she looked at the machinery in the room. “

Medicine, an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. It’s a miracle they were able to remove the bullet without removing the brain first!”

“She was shot in the head?!” Imogene asked.

“Where are we?” Wayne asked.

“See through my eyes, child,” Wilma said, bridging her mind with Wayne’s, answering his questions before he could voice them. Wayne shuddered for a moment, his arms reached out to things he could see but were too far away to touch. “Would you two gentlemen care to watch the door?” Wilma asked.

“You got it!” Gordon said with an anxious smile as he started off toward the door, Timothy catching up to him before he could get too far ahead.

“How about you back me up, son?” Timothy said as he took a look outside the door and let it close again.

“You have to love pure fighters,” Wilma said as she took hold of Sharon’s head.

“Oh please, Wilma,” Imogene pleaded as she took two handfuls of the woman’s clothes. “I’ll do-”

“Never sell yourself!” Wilma said sharply. “You cannot even put a price to what you have, and that was before the Shard! Selling you is never an option! If you remember nothing else, Imogene Amanda Schultz, remember that. Never an option!”

“Okay,” Imogene nodded. “Never an option.” Wilma’s face relaxed as if she were asking for forgiveness for too strong a reaction; the child was merely showing her concern for her best friend. But such was the stuff of discussions of a hopeful future.

“Alright you,” Wilma blinked her eyes rapidly as she put a hand on Sharon’s head and another on her chest. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. The wound was more than serious, it was in fact quite fatal, but the Medicine was merely maintaining the young girl’s body. It had done nothing to address the poor child’s energy, let alone her special soul.

Wilma looked to the door and found her young fighter standing guard. What she was about to do was going to take a considerable amount of her capacities, but she trusted the child to indeed guard her safety. In fact, she felt for the wayward soul who happened into the room, for Gordon would have been relentless. Timothy would try to match his son, but he had neither the body nor the stomach for such deeds. All Gordon lacked was the body, but his mind was eager to try and make up for that shortcoming.

Contact was made! Wilma reached into the shell and found Sharon still at the beach, still trying to resolve the conflict and protect her loved ones. She was still fighting… she was losing and she knew it, but the knowledge did not sap the strength of her efforts. If the last blow landed did not change things, she simply struck again, and again, and again!

“

,” the woman thought as she reached out her hand and took hold of the fighting girl. Sharon could not see who or what was touching her, but she did not attack. “

,” the woman noted as she applied her talent to the failing parts of Sharon’s body. “

.”

“I already know you hate hospitals,” Wilma said softly, looking down on Sharon. “… so why don’t we help each other out. I get you out of here, and you help our mutual friend get to where she needs to be…

“Okay, Sharon. Wake up, dear!”

“Ow!” Sharon mumbled as she put her hand on her head. Imogene jumped, cried and nearly hugged the life out of Wilma who was stunned by the reaction. She knew the two girls were close, but she had seen siblings lose each other on the battlefield and not display this sort of emotion. “Hey, everybody. Genie, are you okay?”

“

,” Wilma thought as she saw the dedication reciprocated stride for stride.

“

,” Wayne thought and Wilma smiled at him, having forgotten that she had linked her mind to the young blind boy. How much had he seen and said nothing? “

.”

“

,” Wilma projected to his mind. “

.” Wayne smiled and chuckled, conceding the point. The bridge between their minds was slowly and carefully removed as Wilma’s body shuddered. Wayne fell back into darkness, but not before his wishes translated to an impulse Wilma could not control and she looked at the hospital bed.

Wilma touched Wayne’s face, closing her eyes. “My, what a wonderful perspective you have,” she said as she started to walk, but she collapsed. Wayne caught her before she could spill into the floor.

“Wilma?!” Imogene gasped and Sharon was quickly out of the bed. She snatched the top sheet off of the hospital bed and started to wrap it around Wilma, but the white-haired woman held up her hand.

“I’d prefer death, thank you very much.”

“She’s dying!” Wayne said. “I can feel it!”

“What? Why?!” Imogene asked.

“I should have gone home a long time ago,” she said. She started to speak again, but Imogene put her hand over the woman’s mouth.

“Guys, I have to go,” Imogene said before taking in a deep breath.

“But you’re not ready,” Wilma argued.

“To let you die? No, you’re right; I’m not ready for that.”

“Then we’re coming with you,” Timothy said.

“Sounds like a plan,” Sharon said, wrapping the sheet around her body. Timothy looked at Sharon with a stern look. “What? I already got shot over this! I figure I get to make my own call on this one.”

“And Wayne?!” Timothy pointed out.

“He can keep up,” Gordon said. “I’ll be his eyes. Come on, Dad, we don’t have much time.”

“What’s that noise?” Wayne asked. The wind kicked up and started howling louder and louder. Winds smacked hard up against the hospital window and a pair of bright, almost blinding lights shone in through the hospital window. Imogene was immediately reminded of when she had seen light in Wilma’s eyes, but there was no warmth on this occasion.

“Check that,” Sharon said softly, “we don’t have time! Go for it, Genie!”

Imogene was way ahead of her best friend and this time she did not try to assume a feeling of protection. The time for mind games was over. Imogene did not need any convincing, nor did she need permission… she just needed to hit the switch and assume a place – her station. She was, after all, the Spatial Shard! The drop into the transit tube was faster, but everyone looked up when they heard glass breaking. They could see the light at the top of the hole and as the tunnel formed around them, the light was still there.

“Time to take some ownership!” Imogene whispered, recalling a mantra Coach Thaxton had taught her. “I’m the Shard and I say we go NOW!” Imogene lifted her hand. Her body, as well as those who traveled with her, no longer looked as if they were free-falling, but flying. Their speed in the tunnel increased as the group itself became a thing of light. They created a streak of light behind them as they pushed onward through the Gateway, where their entrance was punctuated by a large explosion of light. From there, their speed increased as they sped onward to the Minor Hub. The light that pursued them was not as fast, but it was by no means slow.

“I see,” he said softly, filling his pipe for another good smoking. “Now this is more like it, hmmm. When a living, breathing Shard makes an entrance, it is always best to draw attention to oneself.” He decided not to light the pipe, but instead put it down. The time for sitting and watching was over. It was time to make preparations.

“

!” he thought. “

!”