Gather the Sentient (28 page)

CHAPTER

51

JOSE

Wednesday, October 12

Baltimore

Jose eased the car against the curb and put the transmission in park.  He took a deep breath.

“You good?” Officer Rosetti asked from the back seat.

He nodded but his mouth was too dry to respond.  More emotionally spent than scared, he just wanted the whole ordeal to be over.  He wanted Aunt Carla to be safe.  He wanted Andrea to be safe.  And he wanted to go back to his job at the hospital with his patients in the ICU.  That was where he belonged.  He was a healer, not a fighter.

“Do you see them?” she asked.

He glanced out the window without turning his head.  “Yeah.  Three of them.  And I think one is Alejandro.”  He listened, unmoving while she delivered a message to the other officers.  When she finished, her voice softened, from no-nonsense officer to concerned friend.

“Okay.  You’ve got this.  Just tell them Andrea’s locked in the car waiting and you’ll give them the keys as soon as they tell you Carla’s location.  I’ll be listening, so don’t worry about trying to remember.”

He could barely hear her over the beating of his own heart.  “What if they lie to me?  What if she’s not where they send us?”

She was quiet for a moment, and he could tell she had concerns of her own.  Finally, she spoke.  “I don’t have a crystal ball, Jose.  And neither do you.  All we can do in this life is make the best decisions we can based on the information we have.  I think it works out pretty well most of the time.  And the rest of the time…”  She paused then, as if to swallow down something difficult.  “We go on blind faith,” she continued.  “It’s up to you now, though.  You can choose to get out of the car or keep driving.  I’m good either way.  It’s your call.”

He knew what he needed to do.  He’d known all along.  It was the same choice he made as a boy with the dog in the homeless village.  The same choice he made every time he healed a patient who would never survive without his healing touch.  The same choice he made the moment he’d gotten involved with Andrea.

He cracked open the door.

“See you in a few,” Rosetti said.

Jose strolled across the vacant lot, hoping to appear casual.  Confident.  He knew there were five plain clothes officers watching from various locations around the block.  He also knew none of them would get to him in time if one of the three men who now stood before him shot him from point blank range.

Alejandro was there along with two other Hispanic men he didn’t recognize.  He spoke to him in Spanish, without an ounce of apprehension.  “You must be Jose.”

“Where’s my aunt?” Jose asked as steadily as he could.

Alejandro smiled pointedly at the men to his left and right.  “Not even a hello from this one.  So rude.  Maybe we oughta teach him some manners, huh, boys?”

Jose raised his hands in front of his chest and resisted the urge to scoot back.  “I don’t want any trouble.  I did what you asked.”  He nodded with his head in the direction of the car.  “Andrea’s sitting over there, locked up in the backseat of the car.  Just tell me where Carla is, and I’ll give you the keys.  She’s all yours.  That girl’s been nothing but trouble, and I’ve learned my lesson.  I never shoulda gotten involved.”

Alejandro took a step forward, flexing his upper body.  “You think?  No reason she would want somebody like you when she’s already got somebody like me.  So hand over the keys.”  He thrust his hand forward and for an instant, Jose was sure he was going to be sucker punched, but when he opened his eyes, there was merely an open palm, waiting for the key.

“Where is my aunt?”

Alejandro sighed heavily, annoyed by Jose’s persistence.  “We’ll leave her at the corner of Beckley and Van Deman.  And you better go alone.  Now gimme the damn keys or we’ll just take a crowbar to the windows.”

“No,” Jose countered, sounding braver than he felt.  “Call them now.  I want to hear you tell them.”

Alejandro squinted into the sunlight over Jose’s shoulder in the direction of the car, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. 
Please don’t realize it’s not Andrea
, he thought to himself.  A moment later, seemingly assuaged, the man licked his lips and pulled his phone from his jean’s pocket.

“Esto es Alejandro.  Llevar a la mujer al dejar y dejarla.  Sí.  Sí.  Adiós.”

Satisfied the second team of police officers would be able to find his aunt, it was time to make his escape, but at that moment, Jose caught movement out of the corner of his eye and unintentionally glanced to the right, in the direction of the ally.  He immediately realized his mistake when he recognized Officer Anderson strolling casually along the side of the building.  All three men turned to follow his gaze and spotted Anderson as well.

“Never seen any wedos in this neighborhood,” the man on Alejandro’s left said.

“Naw, man, that ain’t right,” said the other, backing away from Jose.

Alejandro pulled a handgun from behind his back where it had been tucked into his waistband.  “Walk.  Slowly,” he instructed, pointing in the direction of the car.  “I swear to God if you try anything, I will shoot you in the back.”

As a child, Jose had attended mass faithfully with his abuela, but once he began working as a teen, his schedule often prevented him from making it to church most Sunday mornings.  As he shuffled toward Officer Rosetti, still hunched in the backseat of her Civic, he could hear his grandmother’s voice in his head, praying to God and all the saints for intercession.  If there was a time in his life when he needed divine intervention, this was most certainly it.

He kept his eyes down, to avoid making any inadvertent glances, either at Anderson or Rosetti, and as he continued across the vacant lot, he prayed the police were not only on their way to rescue his aunt but were also prepared to intervene now on his behalf.  Because when it came to having a clue about what to do next, he was completely at a loss.

Less than twenty feet from the car, Alejandro froze and Jose’s heart stopped.

He knew.

“Who the hell is that?” he cried, jamming the barrel of the handgun into Jose’s back.  “Because it ain’t Andrea, you lying piece of crap.”

“Police!  Put down your weapon!” Anderson called from where he was now standing at the corner of the lot.

Jose, Alejandro, and the other two men turned in unison at the sound of Anderson’s voice, and before he knew what was happening, a shot rang out.  A second shot immediately followed.  Jose dropped to the ground, ears ringing, and crawled underneath the car.  From beneath the vehicle, he saw feet on the opposite side and realized Officer Rosetti was on the move.  His instinct was to call to her, to warn her of the danger, but before he could cry out, he heard more gunfire.  In his periphery, he could see two men running across the lot, even as Rosetti called after them but didn’t give chase.  Alejandro lay motionless in a small pool of blood, his firearm still in his hand.  Without thinking, Jose scrambled from beneath the car and lunged toward him, kicking the gun from his grasp, across the dirt and gravel.  Alejandro’s accomplices were rounding the corner at the far side of the lot, and he considered running after them until he recognized several of the other plain clothes officers closing in.

On the sidewalk just beyond the car, Anderson was on the ground.  Rosetti was bent over him, talking into the walkie-talkie secured to her shoulder, but between the ringing in his ears and the thundering of his own heart, he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Jose glanced down once again at Alejandro and realized the man was still breathing.  As he examined the gaping gunshot wound and ever-widening bloodstain, which now saturated the surrounding shirt, Alejandro’s eyes fluttered open and his lips began to move.

“Help me,” he mouthed.

Over the course of his career, Jose had saved many patients.  People he assumed were good, honest citizens, worthy of his gift.  During that same time, he’d also had to let many others die.  He couldn’t save them all lest he give himself away.  It was the part of his gift he hated the most, having to decide who to heal and who to let suffer on their own.

He crouched beside Alejandro, a man who was unworthy in every sense of the word.  And yet, death was almost more than he deserved.

He reached down, placing his own hands over the wound and felt the immediate sensation of heat spreading through his body.  He allowed the warmth to spread into Alejandro, but only briefly.  Just long enough to ensure, with proper medical intervention, he would survive.

When he finished, he peeled off his own shirt to wipe the blood off his hands and used it to pick up Alejandro’s discarded gun.  Then he sprinted, as fast as he could, across the lot to where Rosetti still hovered over Anderson.

His hearing was returning and as he approached, she hollered, “That bastard got him in the leg.  Must have nicked an artery.  He’s bleeding out fast, and I can’t get it to stop.”

Jose’s emergency room training kicked in, and he instructed Rosetti to help elevate his hips by wedging herself beneath him as he applied pressure.  “How long ‘til an ambulance arrives?”

She shook her head.  “Two minutes.  Maybe three.  He’s unresponsive already and his pulse is really weak.”

Jose knew what he had to do and knew he had to do it quickly, but there was no way he was going to be able to heal Anderson without Rosetti watching.  Seconds later, Anderson stopped breathing.

He had no other choice.

He cleared his mind, concentrating on his hands and the wound and the life force he felt slipping away.  Slowly, steadily, the heat spread through the gunshot wound and surrounding tissue, making its way into the bloodstream and throughout the officer’s entire system.  A moment later, Anderson came to, taking a huge gulp of air before opening his eyes.

“Jack?” Rosetti sputtered in disbelief.

“I’m here,” he moaned.

She pulled herself from beneath him and crawled toward his head, cradling his face in her hands.  “Oh, my God, I thought you were dead.”

“Me too,” he said.

She sat with him, brushing the hair from his face in quiet contemplation.  Jose could see her reflecting on what had just transpired, piecing it all together.   Anticipating an interrogation, he scrambled to his feet and began walking away.  He didn’t want to be forced into an explanation.

“Wait, Jose,” she called.  “What just happened?  What did you just do?”

His back was to her.  He didn’t know what to say.  Certainly not the truth.

“You healed him.  With your hands.  I saw you do it.”

He didn’t turn around.  She would never understand.  His mind raced, searching his training for another possible rationalization for what had just transpired.  He could feel her staring at the back of his head as the ambulance sirens sliced through the silence.

He took a step, intent on seeing himself out of the chaos which was about to ensue when he heard her speak, more to herself than to him.

“Oh, my God, Jose.  Are you one of us?”

CHAPTER

52

THOMAS

Thursday, October 13

Baltimore

“Is Stella going to be able to meet us?” Thomas asked Mia as she pulled into a parking spot in the garage at GBMC hospital the next morning.

“As far as I know.  She and the baby are in the Postpartum Patient Care Unit on the second floor.  And I didn’t have a chance to call and find out where they moved Jack after he left the ER late last night.  I feel awful for her that Jack never made it to the birth, but at least we were able to convince the EMTs to take him to the same hospital so they could be together today.”

He hated the thought that Mia could have easily been in the line of fire instead of Jack.  He didn’t think he would ever get used to the idea of losing her.  “I bet he wishes he would have ignored Stella and gone to the hospital right away instead of going on the assignment with you.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and gathered the balloons and teddy bear from the back seat.  “At least it all worked out in the end.  Especially with Jose.  That he was there with this amazing gift just when we needed him.  That his relationship with Andrea brought him to Baltimore to be here with us in the first place.”  She shook her head in disbelief.  “It’s all pretty spectacular when you think about it.  Our prophecy sure works in mysterious ways.”

Thomas thought it was interesting that she should choose the same phrase Mildred often used about God to describe the prophecy.  He reached for her hand as they entered the hospital, something he always felt very grateful to be able to do.  Mia was safe.  Mia was alive.  He never took it for granted.

They checked in at the front desk to find out where Jack had been relocated after his surgery the night before.

“Officer Anderson’s on the fifth floor, room 5435,” the receptionist told them.

On the elevator to the recovery rooms, Thomas couldn’t help giving her a hard time.

“I can’t believe you spent the last three weeks working on an assignment for a guy who ended up being one of the light psychics.  He was under your nose the whole time and you didn’t even know it.  I met Lanying and had it figured out in ten minutes.”

She nudged him playfully.  “How was I supposed to know Jose was a psychic healer?  It’s not like he was wearing a t-shirt, ‘Ask Me How I Can Heal You With My Hands.’  I did get a strange feeling about him though, from the first day I met him.  His aura was light.  Really light.  And it was almost as if I’d known him for a very long time, like we’d grown up together or something.  When he told me his birthday, I swear they almost needed to carry me away in the ambulance too.”

Thomas didn’t like that her confession left him feeling the tiniest bit jealous.  “Would you say you felt more connected to him when you met than you did to me after that first lineup?”

“Not even close,” she replied, kissing him on the cheek for good measure.  “Still, it’s pretty disappointing to know that if Lanying’s island woman turns out to be one of us, Jose would’ve made number seven.  That is, if we hadn’t lost Kate.”

Thomas let the weight of her declaration wash over him.  It was true.  The rippling effects of Kate’s death continued to lap at their feet.  But it was too late to dwell on the past.  Now, they could only look to the future, continuing on with their plan of keeping the dark psychics apart.

To have come so close though…

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Jack laughed as he and Mia entered the room.

Mia sailed across the room, hurrying to embrace her partner who was propped up in his hospital bed.  “It’s good to see you too,” she said.  They held each other for a long moment, and Thomas realized how lucky he was that Mia had such an amazing support system.

“And look who else is here,” she gushed, turning to Stella, who looked exhausted but grateful in the seat beside the window, a tiny bundle cradled in her arms.  “Oh my God.  You have to let me see her.”

“Him,” Jack corrected, laughing.  “My daughter turned out to be a son.  We’ve named him Owen.”

“You’re kidding,” Mia said as Stella handed her the infant.  “He’s beautiful, just the same.”  She held the baby to her face, breathing him in and snuck a glance at Thomas.  “Maybe someday, huh?”

It was the first time she’d ever mentioned the possibility of wanting children.  He felt himself blushing.  “Maybe someday,” he agreed, tying Jack’s ‘Get Well’ balloons on the bed rail before perching himself atop the small table in the corner.

After handing Owen back to Stella, Mia returned her attention to Jack.  “So tell me, besides having a son instead of a daughter, what other news do you have for us?”

“Well, I think they’re actually gonna let me bust outta here tonight, since they only really kept me this long for observation.  They thought initially I was going to need major surgery, but I didn’t.  The doctors said it was the strangest thing that the bullet tore through my quad and lodged itself in my hamstring but somehow missed the femoral artery it should have gone right through.  I have a couple stitches where they took the bullet out, but other than that, there was nothing to see.  Based on what they saw at the scene, the EMTs told the doctors they estimated I lost about five pints of blood, but there was no evidence of much blood loss at all when I was examined.”  He looked to Stella and held out his hand which she willingly took.  “I can’t believe how lucky we got.”

Mia had already shared Jose’s request for them to keep their knowledge of his abilities private, so Thomas knew it wasn’t something she would reveal to Jack now.  “Sounds like a serious miracle,” she said to Jack.  “You definitely used up one of your nine lives.”

Jack chuckled, caressing the top of Owen’s head.  “No kidding.  I gotta be more careful with the other eight, especially now that I’m someone’s daddy.”  He shifted wearily under the white cotton sheet and looked again to Mia.  “So I’m dying to know, what happened after they took me away?  Please tell me Carson’s guys got Jose’s Aunt Carla back.”

“They did, as a matter of fact,” she told him.  “Found her right where they told us she’d be.  And you’ll never guess the best part.  Those idiots didn’t have the sense to dump her more than two blocks away from the warehouse where they’d been keeping her.  Carson and Harris canvassed the surrounding area on foot for less than 20 minutes and found the abandoned warehouse where they were storing the stolen cars.”

“No kidding,” Jack said.

“A happy ending all around.”

“And Jose and Andrea?”

“They’re planning to stay with Carla for a couple days at her place – she was seriously shaken up, as you can imagine.  Then I think they’re heading back to Phoenix by the end of the week.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully and then, seemingly out of nowhere, smacked himself on the head.  “And wait, what about Alejandro?  Jesus, I’d forgotten all about that SOB.”

“You shot him, just under the rib cage on his right hand side.  Through and through.  Lots of blood, but last I heard, he’s gonna survive.”

Thomas watched a series of emotions wash across Jack’s face - first disbelief, then anger, and finally acceptance, all within the span of five seconds.  “Kinda wish I woulda taken the bastard out, but there’ll be a lot less paperwork this way.  As long as you think we have enough to put him away.  This douchebag isn’t gonna be out on the streets again if I have anything to say about it.”

Mia held up her hands.  “While you were in here convalescing, I took it upon myself to have a nice long conversation with the officer in Phoenix who was working his case.  Between what they already had and what we have now, he won’t see the light of day from behind bars ever again.”

“Shooting a cop didn’t hurt our cause,” Jack said.

“I think we probably had enough without that, but thanks for taking one for the team anyway.”

The baby began to whimper, and Stella announced that she needed to try to feed him.  Thomas and Mia took the opportunity to see themselves out, promising to stop by the Andersons’ house the following night with supper.

As they strolled together across the hospital courtyard to the parking garage, Thomas was overcome with a sense of relief.  It was similar to the sensation he typically felt when something dreadful was about to happen, but instead of feeling the urge to get away, he understood somehow that he needed to go on because they were already traveling along the right path.

“It’s all going to be okay,” he told Mia, reaching out to take her hand, smooth and warm in his own.

“Jack and Stella and Owen?”

He searched his heart and found the stillness he was looking for.  “Yes.  But not just them.”

“Jose and Andrea?”

“Yes.  Them too.”

She squeezed his hand.  “You and me?”

“All of us,” he told her.  “I can feel it, in my gut, just like with the bad stuff.”

She turned to him.  “Like with your ability?”

He smiled.  “Yeah.  I’ve been practicing, feeling for the good stuff, and it’s there now.  I don’t know how we’re gonna do it, but I feel like we have a chance.”

“A chance to what?”

“A chance to save the world,” he said.