CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Recovery

Taryn woke to the feeling of something being jabbed in her arm. She stirred in the darkness and cracked her eyes. A shape loomed above her.

“Ow.” She muttered. “That hurt.” Her voice sounded rough and raspy.

“After all the damage you’ve suffered, a needle hurts.” A dry voice commented. “Well, at least you can feel it, and that’s something.”

Taryn muttered something and slowly focused on the figure. It turned out to be an old nurse, wiry and thin, tough as old tree roots and gnarled as witch trees. He had a white beard, and a gentle smile.

“Doctor Merrick is busy with the other patients.” He told her. “But he’ll be here in just a second; he’s had to be here near constantly with you four.”

“Four?” Taryn asked hoarsely. She struggled to roll onto her belly so she could see.

The nurse stepped back and watched with a critical eye so she didn’t pull anything out. When she got into an upright position he placed soft, supple hands on her shoulders to prevent her from getting to her feet, not that she had any intention of doing so. Just doing that much had already made her head swim, but now she could see who else occupied the room with her.

Room eight had been fairly spacious, but now it was much bigger, and ruined plaster showed where someone had knocked down the walls to enlarge the space to hold the patients safely. One wall now had two large tubs (probably taken from one of the general stores) and in it were

“Megan and Cindy!” Taryn voiced her surprise. “Why are they here?”

“They were found unconscious on the shores of the river.” The nurse said quietly. “From what I’ve been able to understand, they sang up a monstrous storm around the city to keep the critters fenced in. Even after the tower…exploded, collapsed, whatever…they kept it up as some of the monsters read the writing on the wall and tried to escape. They were either discouraged or killed by high winds, lightning, or raging waters the likes I’ve never seen before, and I’ve survived Katrina!” He shook his head in awe. “Saw one of their efforts myself, I guess; I was trying to get some wounded back to the hospital when here comes a couple of them three-headed beasties and a flying critter with raven head? They spot us and I think ‘uh-oh, it’s all over now!’ and then Wham! Out of nowhere comes this wave rushing along the street towards them. I swear the white foam at its top were fierce sharks, and they snatched ‘em up as nice as you please and carried them off, drown them I think.”

He shivered.

“Well, that was the last I saw of them things, but someone said that it was the work of the mermaids. I think the Chief himself went looking for them as soon as the battle was over and found them. He’s certainly the one that brought them in, at least; him and that other feller.”

“What other feller?” Taryn asked, barely able to keep up with the old man’s speech.

“Oh, that would be Stetson! Good lad, I’ve known his family for years. They’re great folks, and he’s always been so responsible and gentle.” He again shook his head in slow wonder, and Taryn wondered briefly if he would get whiplash from the near-constant movement. “’Course, he didn’t look gentle at all when he walked in all half-covered in blood like that, with a pistol on his hip and an assault rifle on his back. Looked damned dangerous to me, and I said to myself; ‘who is that? It can’t be who it looks like!’ but sure enough it was! He hadn’t wanted to leave though, wanted to stay near Sylvie in case she woke up.”

He looked sadly behind Taryn. She twisted her upper body so quick he gasped. She didn’t hear him as she stared in horror at the red-haired pinto that lay as one dead on the blankets, the monitors hooked up to her barely giving any sign other than a gentle beep, but so rare and so infrequently that Taryn knew she had to be almost dead.

“How?!” she asked in a choked half-sob.

“Well, she just…never woke up.” the nurse told her gently. “She missed the battle, and the screwy stuff that happened.”

“What screwy stuff?” Taryn asked, feeling forlorn and alone.”

“Well, at one point (she could hear him scratching his head) her stuff lit up brighter than a Fourth firework. Couldn’t understand it, myself, and none of the others did as well. Then we kept smelling gunsmoke, and it was coming from those guns she had, and wasn’t that the oddest thing? Then we tried to move them and nearly got burned! Them things were hot! Doctor McMillan was afraid the table would catch fire. Couldn’t move them, even when we got heavy mitts to handle the heat, it was almost as if they were glued to the table or something, and the table was bolted to the floor. We tried to move that, and it was hopeless. At last I was detailed to keep an eye on her and the table and to call if anything changed, and they went out to deal with the wounded that were coming in.”

“I see.” Taryn said slowly, though she didn’t actually. It all sounded so weird and fantastic, but she couldn’t focus on that.

Shyly, she reached out and took Sylvie’s hand. It was still warm to the touch, and that was some comfort at least.

“Come on,” she urged quietly. “Come back to me, please.”

Pronounced silence followed, she fancied she could hear the blood pumping through her veins; somewhere a clock tick-tocked happily, the sound jarring and strange in a house where the suffering waited in their quiet agonies to heal.

Sylvie opened her eyes with a gasp! Taryn, not having expected anything, screamed in surprise and toppled backwards, landing back on the cushions.

“Ow.” She muttered, feeling the back of her head where she’d struck it particularly hard against the pillow and the mattress beneath.

Remembering what had happened she rolled back like a righting ship and grasped Sylvie around the stomach.

“Sylvie!” she sobbed. “Oh, Sylvie.” She couldn’t say anything more, overcome.

Sylvie stared about, disoriented. “Where is she?” she asked.

“Who?” Taryn asked, looking around as well, wondering if she’d perhaps meant one of the other nurses.

“Kellie.” Sylvie said. “She was just…here…oh, that’s right.” She suddenly nodded. “Come on, I’ve got to go and find her.”

She started to get to her feet, pulling out the needles on her arms, sending the equipment squealing.

“Sylvie, I don’t think you should be doing that.” Taryn said worriedly.

“I don’t have time to explain.” She said as she finished speaking and getting back to her feet. She started out the door, nearly running over the nurses that came running in to see what had happened, the sound of hurrying feet telling them that more people were on the way.

“Wait! Wait!” they shouted. “You need to get back on the bed! You’ve been.’

“I don’t have time.” Sylvie’s voice cut them off. “She needs my help, and I’ve got to go. Stand aside or I’ll run you over!” she added as she continued out the door. The nurses had to throw themselves to the side to keep the heavy, impatient girl from stepping on their feet. Taryn hurried out after her.

They could hear Doctor McMillan shouting as they left the hospital, and Taryn wondered if she should be trying to pull her wayward friend back to the hospital but one look at Sylvie’s face convinced her that it would be a futile gesture. Instead, they walked in silence for a while, Sylvie seeming to hunt for something.

“Where are we going?” she ventured to ask at last.

“Seventh and Oligart street.” Sylvie replied.

“Dressed like this?” Taryn asked with an arched brow. They were wearing only hospital gowns for shirts, the backs tied to give some privacy. “We look like escaped rejects from a mental institution.”

“Wouldn’t matter, I’d be here even if I was naked.” Sylvie said grimly. “I owe her that much.”

“Owe who?” Taryn asked in surprise.

“You’ll find out.” Sylvie promised.

#

Sylvie continued walking for quite a while, picking their paths through rubble-choked streets blocked with smashed cars and smoking, ruined fighting vehicles. As she walked her head turned from side to side like some security camera, probing the wrack and ruin for…something. Taryn didn’t know what it could be, but she walked alongside her friend, still marveling that she was even alive in the first place.

As they walked they gained followers; Ben came to see them, telling them that Megan and Cindy had woken up and would be fine, but why didn’t they go back to the hospital? Sylvie said nothing. Not even when Josh came and hugged Taryn, kissing her deeply in his relief, making Taryn’s head spin and her legs weak and throbby, but she didn’t stop. Bengal, other agents, even her mother came but Sylvie acted as if she couldn’t hear them, looking around more and more desperately.

Stetson appeared, walking beside them, but he didn’t say anything; He simply took one look at her face, drawn and set, and placed his hand in hers.

Taryn sank into thought as they walked, her mind attempting to analyze all the things that had happened to them; Sylvie’s apparent death and abrupt wakening, her march against Jacob, the slow times he didn’t truly seem to see them coming, her friend’s sacrifice, and what it might all mean for the future.

Sylvie gave a small cry and ran forward, jolting Taryn from her thoughts.

They were in a section of town Taryn recognized; around them were small shops and curiosities, their once pristine-store fronts now covered in bullet holes and blackened by grenades and other explosions. Two cars were in the street, one little more than a blackened lump of twisted metal, the other sheared nearly in half by some fierce creature when it landed or smashed it aside. (Stupid, dinky little smart car, was Taryn’s thought).

Scattered about where they’d fallen were eleven bodies in full battle dress, lying amid the chaff of shell casings, blood, and pulverized stone. To one of them Sylvie ran as quick as lightning, turning the body over and cradling it gently.

Taryn came up to them and looked curiously at the stranger; she was beautiful, with high cheekbones, short, brown hair, full lips and dimples on her cheeks. She was short, maybe about five-four. Taryn felt gorge rise when she saw the torn throat.

“Sylvie,” Taryn started, but didn’t know how to continue.

“It’s all right.” Sylvie crooned softly, as if she held a crying babe in her arms. “Taryn is going to help.”

Taryn looked astonished at her friend; had she heard right? Who was she talking too?

Before she could say anything, Sylvie bent her head and kissed the woman’s cold brow.

From the lips of the corpse came a harsh, unexpected rattle, as if it was trying to draw air.

“Taryn! Now, heal her!” Sylvie shouted, seizing the hand of the woman and clenching it tight.

Taryn reeled, but knelt down and muttered words of entreatment and prayer, asking bones to knit and flesh to join.

To her own amazement, Taryn watched the raw, ragged edges close together seamlessly, the breathing became less strained and more steady, until it became normal. The hazel eyes fluttered open and struggled to focus.

“Kellie!” Sylvie said with enormous relief, clasping the woman to her as one who’d thought a friend dead from a tumble only to realize they’d been simply dazed.

The woman blinked, then frowned uncertainly. “Who…who are you?” she managed in a hoarse croak.

Sylvie reared back, shocked. “Kellie! Don’t you remember me? We fought Jacob together in his palace. You helped keep his people off my back as I shot him.”

“I…I did?” The woman asked, still confused and looking helplessly around. Her gaze fell on her comrades and she stiffened, then began to look frantically around. “Did…did anyone else make it?” she asked, looking for any signs of life.

Sylvie shook her head sadly. “No, they floated up into the sky, but you wanted to come back with me, hold your son again, if that was possible. We risked it all together, eternal loss, damnation if you will, to fight Him. I guess that earned you some reward at least.”

Sylvie stopped talking, looking frustrated. She passed the confused soldier to Bengal, then jerked her head at Taryn. They drew off a short way and started talking in hushed tones.

“Sylvie, what’s going on.” Taryn demanded. “What are you talking about, having fought Jacob? You were unconscious and nearly dead at the hospital.

“Actually, I think I did die.” Sylvie said solemnly.

“Wait!” she said, seeing Taryn’s look. “I’m not crazy! I swear, mad as it sounds. Here’s what happened;”

Sylvie talked for forty minutes, detailing how she’d figured out she was In the spirit world, watching the souls depart when she rescued them from Jacob’s creations, and how she’d met Kellie, struggled to the tower, and then fought Jacob in his tower after his defeat of Taryn.

“I thought you dead…again.” Sylvie admitted, “And was determined that I’d take him down, no matter the cost to me.”

“It’s all right.” Taryn said distractedly, her mind whirling over the events and seeing how much that she’d found puzzling was explained. “I would have too.”

“Well, it’s not much after that.” Sylvie said in relief. “I’d finished Jacob, went to the window and saw you being carried off by an ambulance that had forced its way through the debris, several more people with you You looked so dim, I was afraid your light would go out there, but it held on and I began to realize that you’d make it. I looked at Kellie, who’d started to rise, and pulled her onto my back. I told her I’d do my best to get her back to her body, and we looked, but I got a feeling, you know? I went back to the hospital, telling her to hang on, and she did. I just slid into my body, and then I hurried, because I couldn’t see her or feel her, but I’d hoped that she’d still be able to hang on. I was so afraid she’d get knocked off or something. But then she woke up and I was so happy! She’d get her wish to hold her son again, to love him and watch him grow up, but it’s like she doesn’t remember any of it!” she said in incredulous frustration.

“Well, if you remember your ancient history, there is precedent.” Taryn reminded her gently.

“I was never any good at those classes.” Sylvie told her in irritation. “You know that. Which part are you talking about?”

“Grecian Myth.” Taryn said with exaggerated patience. “There was a story that spirits who desired to return to the land of the living could do so, but only after they’d drunk from the waters of the Lethe. The waters were filled with dark magic that made them forget everything, and I mean everything. Then the spirit could return to Earth and be reborn, carrying nothing of his previous life.”

“What are you saying?” Sylvie asked. “That she can’t remember helping me as a spirit because…”

“…spirits can’t carry their memories with them when they return to the living.”

“Then why can I remember?” Sylvie demanded. “I was dead too.”

“I don’t think you were.” Taryn shook her head. “I think you were put there for a purpose, Sylvie, to fight Jacob. You weren’t dead, only in a coma of sorts, and so you could walk free for a little while and do what needed to be done, and apparently, that’s why you could act as an anchor; you weren’t ready for…passing on yet, and so They had no power over you, and that which you touched.”

Sylvie looked thoughtful as she turned back to where Kellie was being loaded into the ambulance amidst an awestruck crowd, the paramedics touching her arm every so often as if to make sure she was real.

“Well, whatever is the case.” She said at last as the ambulance drove back towards the hospital. “I’m glad I managed to grant her wish.”