Paradox - Progeny Of Innocence (bk2) (Paradox series) (18 page)

"Okay, quiet now, let Ambrosia speak," one of her friends called from the far end of the table.

"Wait a second. Check out the television," someone else called out pointing toward the television screen behind the bar.

Everyone in the tavern began to turn around to look at the television suspended on the wall at the furthest end of the bar.

"Turn it up, Mrs Cravits," a man called from the back of the room.

"Give me a second, Bob," she replied reaching for the television remote.

A somber hush fell quickly over the tavern, as they watched a young television reporter, not much older than Ambrosia, standing in front of a passenger airliner engulfed in a blazing fireball. Emergency workers darted frantically around the fuselage and strewn pieces of wreckage, searching for survivors.

The reporter smoothed her skirt, ran a hand through her hair, waited for a moment, nodded, then spoke. "A Sudanese passenger aircraft has crashed, killing one hundred and sixteen of the passengers and crew on board. However, there is a remarkable twist to this heartbreaking story. A ten-year-old girl has been rescued, and is the only survivor of this otherwise fatal crash. She is currently being treated in the hospital burns unit. Outside the hospital, locals are praying for the girl, whose identity still remains unknown. It is said that doctors hold grave fears for her survival, saying that the next forty-eight hours are crucial. With burns covering over sixty percent of her body, she will indeed need a miracle to survive this tragedy. So far, there are few details about how the crash occurred, but it has just been confirmed that it is in fact Sudanese Airlines flight 139A. It is believed that there are at least four Australians on board who have perished, but their names are yet to be released. Authorities are currently tracking down relatives of two of the deceased Australians, who are believed to be residing in Darwin in the Northern Territory. Please call the hotline on your screen for any further-"

Ambrosia’s breath caught in her throat. The blood drained from her cheeks. The glass of wine she was holding shattered in her grasp. Silent tears began to streak their path down her face. She knew right at that moment that they were dead. The only parents she could remember that had ever loved her. And for the first time that Ambrosia could recall, her heart broke.

She also realized at that very same moment that she had never felt more alive than this very moment. She felt too alive. The pain of being alive coursed through her, burning her, hurting her, scorching every nerve and fiber in her body. She began to shake feverishly, unsure whether it was the ground beneath her feet or her own limbs that were betraying her, tearing her insides out.

"Ambrosia? Jesus Christ, are you alright? What’s wrong? What’s happening?" It was Carmen, her best friend, grabbing her urgently by the arm and gently shaking her. "Your phone is ringing. Do you want me to-?"

"No," Ambrosia said, looking at the phone ringing in Carmen’s hand. She took it from her, and as she closed her fingers around it, it shattered it in her hand as though it had been made of glass. She looked at the broken pieces in her uncut hand, and let them fall through her fingers to the floor. Then she turned away and walked silently from the room and out onto the footpath. The stained glass door with the large four-leaf clover closed silently behind her, and then abruptly exploded into a thousand pieces.

The floor inside the tavern began to shudder harder, spasmodically at first, and then slowly it escalated until rows of spirit bottles and glasses began to jiggle on the wall behind the bar before they abandoned their posts and smashed one by one to the floor.

Overhead lights started popping and sprayed out electrified snowflakes of broken glass, plunging the tavern into an eerie darkness. Then the sprinkler system sputtered to life, drenching the screaming patrons. Outside, everything appeared, for the moment, to be blissfully normal. On the footpath, patrons sat sipping coffee and eating sandwiches at the Coffee Bean Café. Then all hell broke loose. They looked up, startled, and watched in horror at the sound of smashing glass and screaming, as scrambling bodies fled desperately through the tavern's timber doors and out into the street. Seconds later, fire alarms rang out noisily, followed by a thunderous explosion.

Ambrosia woke the next afternoon, sedated and curled up in her bed with Gary sitting patiently by her side, and she smiled. She saw a fresh bunch of flowers in a vase sitting on her bedside table. And the smile slowly faded. Today, they, too, only reminded Ambrosia of death, and one absolute memory came crashing back vividly into her mind, reminding her that her parents were dead.

Kate knocked on Grace's bedroom door. "It's just me… Can I come in?"

"Yep, sure, Mom," Grace replied cheerfully, turning down the stereo.

"Grace, honey, are you still babysitting Abe tonight?" Kate asked, pushing the door ajar. Grace and Angela were sitting cross-legged on the bed, folding up clothes from an overflowing laundry basket.

"Sure am. Mrs Terran said she would be dropping him off sometime around seven."

Kate looked at the laundry basket on the bed and sighed. "Thank you so much for doing that for me, girls. There just don't seem to be enough hours in the day…"

"Don't worry, Mom, we're happy to do it. We know how flat out you are at the tavern with all your extra shifts," Grace smiled.

Angela nodded and said, "You working late again tonight, Mrs Connors?"

"Sure am… and Angela," Kate said.

"Yes," Angela replied.

"You know you can call me Kate."

"Yes, Mrs Connors, I know." Angela replied, returning her attention to the folding.

Kate shook her head. "Okay then, as long as you know..." She began to close the door, then pushed it open again. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I'll leave some money on the kitchen counter for you so you can buy something for dinner, Grace. Plenty for you, too, Angela, if you are around tonight," Kate added.

"I won't be here tonight," Angela replied, standing to fold a beach towel.

"Oh?" Kate asked leaning back against the doorway. "Do you have a hot date?"

Angela cringed as though the question had been an insult. "Good lord, no," she finally answered. "I'm going with Josh to the East Point Military Museum, with a group of his friends." She paused for a moment, and then laughed. "Well perhaps I am babysitting, after all. Just not here..."

Kate frowned. "In the middle of the night? It won't be open."

"I know. Idiots are infatuated with the legend about the Poinciana Woman. And Mr Munroe the gym teacher," Angela said matter of factually.

"The teacher that hung himself?" Kate asked with a worried look on her face. "I don't think that's a good idea..."

"I know it isn't a good idea, that's why I'm going," Angela said. "To make sure no one does anything stupid."

Kate nodded. "Somehow, Angela, that makes me feel a whole lot better. But I still hope that you can make Josh reconsider."

Angela shrugged her shoulders. "He's a silly boy, Mrs Connors, what else can I tell you?"

Kate couldn't help but smile at Angela's response. "Josh is very lucky to have you as a friend, Angela."

"Yes, I know," Angela replied, without looking up from her folding. Kate and Grace shared a secret smile.

"And what about Zach?" Kate asked. "What's he up to tonight, does anyone know?"

Grace got up with a stack of folded t-shirts and slipped them into her top drawer. "He said he would be home later tonight. Actually, you will see him before I do. He's meeting up with friends at
O'Regan's
for dinner."

Kate began to close the bedroom door. "Well then it looks like everyone is present and accounted for. Do be careful tonight, Angela."

Angela shot a mortified look at Kate, but said nothing.

Kate stifled the urge to smile. "My apologies, Angela, I forgot who I was talking to..." But as soon as the door closed, a grin spread wide across Kate's face.

Grace's phone rang and she plucked it off the bedside table to answer it. She looked at the screen anxiously, and felt a little part of her heart become heavier in her chest. "Yes, Josh. No, Josh, I'm babysitting. No, I don't want to get out of it. Yes, hang on, I'll put her on." She put a hand over the phone and said to Angela, "It's Josh, but don't let him talk too long. I'm hoping Damon will call."

Angela nodded and took the phone. "Meet me at Grace's place at seven." Then she hung up and handed the phone back to Grace.

"Angela, I didn’t mean you had to be that quick."

Angela shrugged. "There wasn't anything else that needed saying."

"So, what's the plan? Grace asked.

"Well," Angela began, "First, Jackson is picking up Amber, and then Josh and me. And then we are going to the Bean
to meet up with the others. We'll probably hang around there for a while and have something to eat. The boys also plan on having a few games of pool at
O'Regan's
. At this time I will no doubt be subjected to a highly stimulating conversation with Amber and Sonndra."

Grace smiled at the horrified look on Angela's face. She was obviously mortified at the prospect of being placed in a situation where she would have to join in on a conversation that she absolutely had no desire to participate in. "Well, maybe Amber and Clair will get in a punch-up over Jackson. That might make it interesting?" Grace offered.

Angela looked at Grace. "You're not helping."

"Sorry," Grace said, shrugging. "What time are you going to East Point?"

"After Tony's shift has finished at
O'Regan's
we'll head off. We should be there by ten-thirty. Well that's the plan anyway. Hopefully everyone'll get bored in the first fifteen minutes and will want to go home."

"Yeah, you are probably right," Grace said.

"Sadly, no," Angela replied shaking her head.

Grace frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Eric and Tony are going, remember. When have you not known those two to do something stupid? It must be something in their genes. Although I think the youngest, Matthew, seems to be the exception, because he is quite nice and very smart. He's in my chess club."

Grace nodded, then sat back down on the bed and thought about Eric. "Do you remember when they first started school? They were okay back then. It's kind of just recently that they started acting out. Maybe they've got problems at home?”

Grace had had a crush on Eric when the brothers first arrived at the school. Eric had run into her in the corridor and knocked a stack of books out of her hand. He'd immediately apologized and swooped down to pick them up for her. And after the customary banter of apologies and introductions, he had asked for her phone number and about the possibility of catching up sometime. Grace had been instantly thrilled with the prospect. But he didn't call her, and any time they spoke after that first meeting, although he had been polite at first, it was as though the conversation about him calling her had never taken place. But just lately, although not outright rude, he had become somewhat standoffish when she tried to speak with him. He and his brother Tony were popular with both the girls and the guys, and usually had a group of friends circling around them, vying for their attention. Their younger brother Matthew seemed to be less popular, and kept mostly to a smaller, quieter group of friends. Grace frowned and looked at Angela. "Have you heard if Damon is going tonight?"

"I take it you still haven't spoken with Damon since his disappearing act on Thursday night?"

Grace shook her head sadly. "Not a single word. And because he wasn't at school Friday, I don't have a clue what's going on, or what's not going on." Grace thought about Eric again. History, she concluded, was beginning to repeat itself. Not that she dwelled too much on the Eric saga. But with Damon, the connection she had felt toward him had been overwhelming, passionate even, if she was going to be honest with herself.

They heard Kate call out from the front door. "I'm off to work now, girls. I'll see you when I get home. Money is on the bench near the phone, Grace. Call me if you need anything... love you."

"Okay Mom, thanks," Grace called back. "Love you, too."

The front door closed, and everything fell quiet for just a brief moment, until a scratching sound from outside Grace's bedroom door startled them. Angela and Grace looked at each other, listening.

"I'll get it," Angela said, pushing herself up off the bed. She pulled the door open. "Where have you been?" she asked bending down to pat Champsie on the top of his fluffy white head.