was
work to be done, Aunt Gwen’s voice echoed in Amanda’s head as if she stood
right beside her. It was a simple truth and one that reminded Amanda she
couldn’t slink away. People needed her. Her gifts might be a curse, but at least, they could help people. Right now she
really needed her gifts to help Jessica.
Easier
said than done, considering the black pumps Duncan made her put on.
Duncan
stood on her right and Mike on her left. Mike was at home in a suit, but Duncan
dressed up like a businessman—he might as well have been a lizard trying on
sheep’s wool for the first time. His arms hung unnaturally at his side. His hair, sweeping over his forehead, just didn’t seem to fit.
They were
going to get caught and thrown into the brig, into jail, solitary confinement.
Something. Amanda just knew it.
“You
survived the night,” Duncan said, “you can survive this too.”
Amanda
wasn’t too sure. The black pantsuit she wore felt restrictive and her toes were
cramped up inside shoes. She got the point was to look professional, and
professionals wore shoes. Heck, toddlers wore shoes. Amanda just didn’t.
But to
try to get a bead on Jessica, she’d do just about anything. “Just follow our
lead,” Mike spoke out of the corner of his mouth like he often did. He spun the
collar around his neck and in his hand, a well-read leather bible. The corners
were bent; his faithful copy. Amanda wouldn’t be surprised if he never went
anywhere without that thing.
Up the
marble steps they went, the towering hospital lay against the backdrop of a
bright blue sky. Large marshmallow clouds slowly drifted by, but when Amanda
placed her hand against the glass revolving door, it all seemed to stop. Her
mind froze, and screams of terror echoed through her brain on a loop, like
feedback coming from a speaker. It set her mind into a frenzy.
Amanda
yanked her hand back and cradled it against her chest. Eyes wide, she pleaded
with Duncan. “Can I do this?”
“If you
can’t,” that toothpick twirled inside his mouth, “we might be dead in the
water.”
“If she’s
not strong enough…” Mike’s voice was laced with conviction. He wanted to
protect her.
Nice,
sweet. The taste of honey on Amanda’s tongue. She stood firm and pushed the
door, spinning inside its column. On the other
side, a sterile looking hotel lobby. The place struck Amanda as more corporate
than hospital, with its smell of citrus balanced against antiseptic.
Elevators
dinged and there was light chatter behind the receptionist station where two
ladies sat. They answered the humming phones, behind them a mahogany wall.
It didn’t
remind her of the place Jessica spent her
formative years. That place had been dingy, dirty, with a fog hanging on it
that masked the true terror that went on behind closed doors. Though her powers had just bloomed then, and it had still been a
scary place to visit.
Very
Scary.
They
passed through the metal detector with ease because their weapons were back in
the car. An uneasy glance passed between the gentlemen. Amanda’s foot was cushioned
by the carpet, and she didn’t care for how it felt against her pump.
She
paused, only to have Duncan take her by the arm like a suitor—slow and
gentle—and lead her to the counter. “Keep your mind focused and all these
thoughts and feelings at bay, all right?”
She
nodded she would, but her heart cried a song. Amanda never learned to control
it, why hadn’t she listened to Gwen a little bit harder?
The
ladies at the desk swiveled in their chairs as they got closer. Their eyes
swept across them but landed straight on
Duncan. Figured, but Amanda wasn’t one to cast blame. He was really easy on the eyes and with everything going on, there
was days old stubble on his chin. Rugged. Sexy. Amanda could see what they saw
in him.
Duncan
flashed his billfold to the blond and
brunette behind the counter. “Special Agents Startler and Waldorf, here to
escort the priest here to see
work to be done, Aunt Gwen’s voice echoed in Amanda’s head as if she stood
right beside her. It was a simple truth and one that reminded Amanda she
couldn’t slink away. People needed her. Her gifts might be a curse, but at least, they could help people. Right now she
really needed her gifts to help Jessica.
Easier
said than done, considering the black pumps Duncan made her put on.
Duncan
stood on her right and Mike on her left. Mike was at home in a suit, but Duncan
dressed up like a businessman—he might as well have been a lizard trying on
sheep’s wool for the first time. His arms hung unnaturally at his side. His hair, sweeping over his forehead, just didn’t seem to fit.
They were
going to get caught and thrown into the brig, into jail, solitary confinement.
Something. Amanda just knew it.
“You
survived the night,” Duncan said, “you can survive this too.”
Amanda
wasn’t too sure. The black pantsuit she wore felt restrictive and her toes were
cramped up inside shoes. She got the point was to look professional, and
professionals wore shoes. Heck, toddlers wore shoes. Amanda just didn’t.
But to
try to get a bead on Jessica, she’d do just about anything. “Just follow our
lead,” Mike spoke out of the corner of his mouth like he often did. He spun the
collar around his neck and in his hand, a well-read leather bible. The corners
were bent; his faithful copy. Amanda wouldn’t be surprised if he never went
anywhere without that thing.
Up the
marble steps they went, the towering hospital lay against the backdrop of a
bright blue sky. Large marshmallow clouds slowly drifted by, but when Amanda
placed her hand against the glass revolving door, it all seemed to stop. Her
mind froze, and screams of terror echoed through her brain on a loop, like
feedback coming from a speaker. It set her mind into a frenzy.
Amanda
yanked her hand back and cradled it against her chest. Eyes wide, she pleaded
with Duncan. “Can I do this?”
“If you
can’t,” that toothpick twirled inside his mouth, “we might be dead in the
water.”
“If she’s
not strong enough…” Mike’s voice was laced with conviction. He wanted to
protect her.
Nice,
sweet. The taste of honey on Amanda’s tongue. She stood firm and pushed the
door, spinning inside its column. On the other
side, a sterile looking hotel lobby. The place struck Amanda as more corporate
than hospital, with its smell of citrus balanced against antiseptic.
Elevators
dinged and there was light chatter behind the receptionist station where two
ladies sat. They answered the humming phones, behind them a mahogany wall.
It didn’t
remind her of the place Jessica spent her
formative years. That place had been dingy, dirty, with a fog hanging on it
that masked the true terror that went on behind closed doors. Though her powers had just bloomed then, and it had still been a
scary place to visit.
Very
Scary.
They
passed through the metal detector with ease because their weapons were back in
the car. An uneasy glance passed between the gentlemen. Amanda’s foot was cushioned
by the carpet, and she didn’t care for how it felt against her pump.
She
paused, only to have Duncan take her by the arm like a suitor—slow and
gentle—and lead her to the counter. “Keep your mind focused and all these
thoughts and feelings at bay, all right?”
She
nodded she would, but her heart cried a song. Amanda never learned to control
it, why hadn’t she listened to Gwen a little bit harder?
The
ladies at the desk swiveled in their chairs as they got closer. Their eyes
swept across them but landed straight on
Duncan. Figured, but Amanda wasn’t one to cast blame. He was really easy on the eyes and with everything going on, there
was days old stubble on his chin. Rugged. Sexy. Amanda could see what they saw
in him.
Duncan
flashed his billfold to the blond and
brunette behind the counter. “Special Agents Startler and Waldorf, here to
escort the priest here to see
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