Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (41 page)

Enter Danielle's prissy voice. "What? You
can't."

"I have to. I've got, uh, family stuff."

"I thought your parents were in
Guatemala."

"Exactly, they're coming back today."

There was silence as Danielle tried to decide
whether or not I was purposely ditching her. But, she relented.
"Alright. But we
have
to meet up for coffee tomorrow then.
No excuses."

"Fine, fine. I'll see you then."

After we hung up I quickly got ready.
Obviously, I'd lied to Danielle. And it wasn't just that I disliked
"Marshmallow May", but that today was something far more important
to me. Three years ago today, my cousin Kelly had been killed.
Murdered, actually. Danielle knew about it, but she didn't know
that every year, starting the very day Kelly had passed away, I
drove up into the mountains to our favorite spot. You could see the
entire city from there, and gorgeous sunsets, and we'd often gone
up there together to talk.

My mom and her mom were sisters. We'd grown
up together, living in the same city. Kelly was two years older
than I, but I'd never felt an age difference. She was a sweet,
caring, beautiful person. And, though I'd never told a soul, since
I was tiny it seemed that Kelly had been surrounded by a glow. Of
course, it was probably some mild hallucination or schizophrenia or
something, but it was always her and no one else. An aura maybe?
I'd never been sure. Whenever I was around her, though, that light
seemed to create this atmosphere of peace and love. That light
was
her.

But ever since her body had been found in the
river, I'd been filled with a kind of quiet rage, if that's
possible. Something deep inside. Her killer was never identified or
found and up until last year I think that's where I'd poured my
anger – in finding him. For a long time I'd frequented the jogging
path she'd last been seen on, in the early mornings when it was
still misty and dark. It was a reckless agenda I'd followed,
waiting for him. Willing him to come my way.

But today was not one of those days; those
were long past. Today was about remembrance and mourning. Kelly was
gone, but the least I could do for her was keep our old traditions
alive.

Chapter 2 (Rachel Carr's
Forgotten
Self
)

I drove up the winding roads into the
mountain pass. It was mid-afternoon already – I'd gotten held up
when my car wouldn't start. It wasn't old or anything, but once in
a while battery problems would pop up, and then disappear just as
quickly. I knew I should probably take it in, should've months ago,
but it didn't matter right now. My thoughts were filled with Kelly.
One of my clearest memories of her was around age seven. She had
just turned nine and we were near the river behind her house,
playing with her new dolls.

As Kelly washes her doll's hair in the river,
I watch a small worm inch across the ground. I pick it up and give
it a good look. I feel like it is in the wrong place, on this dry
patch of grass, so I gently place it in the moist soil near the
water.

As I perform this task, Kelly is getting
closer to the river's current, attempting to dunk the entire doll.
The worm is digging its way into the ground when I hear a small
plunk. I look over at Kelly, who is no longer there. Then her hand
pops out of the water. Fear shoots through my small body. "Mom!" I
scream, running over to where I can see the hand. "Mom!"

No answer.

The hand dips under and without a thought I
jump in. The water is cold, and fast. Already I am being pulled
along, zipping past the tall grass. Kelly must have held onto
something or she would have been far down the river before I did a
thing. But whatever she'd done to fight the current, it was no
longer working. I can see her hand again and her head pops up a
moment, just long enough to take a breath and scream.

By now I am panicking. But even then, at
seven years old, I know it will not help me save my cousin.
Channeling the one swimming lesson I'd had so far, I paddle my arms
and kick my feet in an uncoordinated way. "Kelly!" I call over the
water. Nothing. No part of her was visible. In that moment I
realize she is beyond my reach. I feel no fear, only grief. I stop
paddling, no longer compelled to fight the current.

Suddenly, a bright light appears on my
left. The water pulls me under before I have a chance to look. It
is cold; there is no solid ground here. I float, race along,
become
part of the water. Death isn't unknown to me and I do not
fear it. It is okay.

A hand grabs mine and pulls me up. My head
breaks the surface and I gasp for air. The bright light has
returned. An indescribable feeling flows through my rescuer's hand
into me. It
is
okay.

Don't worry, Abigail. She will be saved.

The message resonates through my mind as this
person, this being of light, cradles me in the water.

By chance, two fisherman see Kelly race by
and pull her out. I am found soon after, holding onto a branch near
the river's edge.

My mother never let us play near the river
after that day. She had been watching us, but an ill-timed phone
call had taken her inside the house for "only a minute". Sometimes
that's all it takes. Kelly was completely fine after the incident,
seemingly unaffected. Years later, whenever someone brought it up,
she said that she had not been afraid. She said she knew it was
going to be okay.

The sun made its slow, steady way down to the
bottom of the sky. It would soon set. This had been when Kelly and
I would make our way up here, parking the car on the gravel and
laying on the hood, watching the show. I pulled my camera out of
the glove box and stepped out of the car. I don't know why I'd
never thought of doing this, but I would document this place, this
scene. This was even Kelly's car, given to me after she was gone.
It would seem like it had been
before
.

I snapped a hundred pictures during my time
there, taking a moment to quietly watch the gorgeous colors mark
out the day's end. There was something glorious about the way the
sun came and left. Almost like silent, heavenly music – uplifting
and peaceful. I was never religious, but I'd always been spiritual.
I knew there was something more to this life than what we saw in
front of us. It meant more. I found comfort in that, and in these
little moments.

Kelly and I had often talked about just that.
It was a special feeling we'd shared. A memory of us right here,
talking about just that flashes in my mind.

The sun is gone but its light still splashes
color onto the lowest clouds. Kelly lets out a long sigh. I turn my
head and look at her. "What is it?"

She closes her eyes. "I don't know, Abby. I
feel like I don't have the language to describe it."

"I think I know what you're talking
about."

Her face turns to mine, eyebrows raised. "You
do?"

I smile slowly. "You feel it when the sun
sets, right? Like you're floating, happy, peaceful, joyous, awed,
and grateful all at the same time?"

Kelly laughs. "Exactly."

"
But only here. It's like I get this
one clouded glimpse into eternity and then it's gone," I tell
her.

"
Hmmm," she looks back up to the
stars, her glow bright in the darkness. "I feel it everywhere."

She had been taken from me not long after
that.

I tilted my head and wondered why I hadn't
thought about that in so long. It was a treasured memory, after
all. I'd often felt that there was something more to our
conversations. Some hidden meaning...or maybe subtext that neither
of us understood. But there was no use in thinking about it now. I
shrugged to myself and capped the lens on my camera. The sun was
long gone and a chill flowed through me - something didn't feel
quite right. I made the decision to leave. I had homework, anyway.
Even though the seniors had graduated, the rest of us still had a
week left. I hurried back to my car, thinking about my calc test on
monday. I was definitely going to flunk. Once I got in, I buckled
my seatbelt. The rocks around me became illuminated as a light came
down the pass; another car traveled the road.

My car started with one turn of the ignition
and I looked over my shoulder to back up. An anxious feeling ran
through me. The light was too bright now, too close. Too late I
realized what was happening and frantically tried to get the door
open. Then a thousand unpleasant sensations all happened at
once.

***

Dedication, About the Author, Cover and
Copywrite Information, Author's Note

Dedication

This one is for you dad. Thank you for your
support and help putting this together!

***

About the Author

Katherine Pine is addicted to shoujo manga
and black tea. Though she's only in her mid-twenties, she lives in
a retirement community in the Pacific Northwest. Alright, so maybe
it isn't
officially
a retirement community, but the age of
the average person is about 62. As a result, Katherine has grown
accustomed to epic, all-night bingo battles and losing terribly at
Bridge. When she's not writing she knits, tries to convince slugs
that her compost pile is much tastier than her vegetable garden,
and gets bossed around by her cats. She is currently working on the
next book in the Fallen Angels series.

Email: katherinepineauthor(at)gmail.com

Website: http://katherinepine.com

Twitter: (at)KatherinePine

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/KatherinePineAuthor

***

Cover Credit

Cover copyright Katherine Pine 2011.

I would like to take a moment to thank C.
Arthur Hart for creating such a wonderful cover! He can be reached
at carthurhart(at)gmail.com, or followed on Twitter (at)boshyboo.
All of the fonts used on the cover were found on the site Font
Squirrel (http://www.fontsquirrel.com/) which lists beautiful fonts
that are free for commercial use. The font is called
Water
Street
and can be downloaded from:
http://www.fontsquirrel.com/fonts/Water-Street. The image is from
istockphoto.com.

***

Author's Note

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents either are products of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental unless explicitly noted. Since this book takes place
in present, some current artists, works of art, products,
businesses, trademarks, and places are referenced to make the book
"come alive." However, no association between the author and any
artist, work of art, business, place, product or trademark holder
is expressed or implied. Use of a term, or work, or artist in this
book should not be regarded as affecting the validity of any
artist, work of art, business, place, product, trademark,
registered trademark, or service mark. The artists, products,
businesses, and places, trademarks, registered marks, or service
marks referenced in this book do not endorse this book unless
otherwise specified.