Chaos (The Realmwalker Chronicles Book 1) (30 page)

“Angel, you can take as much from the Walker account as you need. If anyone’s earned it, you certainly have.”

She seems to relax a little. “It’s just the two of us, you know? My mom and I. And … we’ve managed to get by on our own so far, but lately things have been really hard. She doesn’t know anything about Chaos and I don’t want her to find out. I don’t have a clue how to handle this whole thing. I could really use your help.”

“Sure Angel,” Sam assures her. “Whatever you need.”

Chapter 50

“Idaho?” Ember asks,
her green eyes burning with curiosity.

“Idaho,” I confirm.

“Really?”

“Why do you look so disappointed?”

She goes back to rummaging through my closet. She’s been helping me pack since we woke up top-side.

“I don’t know.” Her voice is muffled behind the closet door. “I guess I thought it would be some place more exciting.”

I laugh at this.

“Well,” she says defensively, “it’s always been some big mystery. No one ever knew where she was from. I guess my imagination got the better of me.”

“She needed privacy. She’s only a kid.”

Ember comes back out with a couple tops and bottoms. Folding them nicely into my duffel bag on the end of my bed, she asks, “And it has to be NOW?”

“Yeah. She seemed pretty insistent about it. I guess they really need the money.”

“Huh. And she wants you and Sam to bring it to her?”

“It makes sense. It’s not like she can hand it over to her mom. Besides, she wants us to visit. From what it sounds like, she doesn’t have too many friends. You know how consuming this way of life can be.”

“Won’t it be weird when two adult strangers show up at a child’s house and claim they’re her friends?”

“We already got it settled. We don’t even have to lie about it. We’re going as representatives from the Walker Foundation. We’ll say that someone anonymously nominated them for a donation and we’re there to determine how much assistance is needed.”

I zip the duffel bag closed and swing it over my shoulder.

“Ooohhh. Clever.”

“You about ready, Addy?” Sam calls from the foyer.

“Coming!”

Ember looks bewildered. “Well, it MUST be pretty important. I can’t ever remember Boss taking time off work.”

I’m beginning to think that perhaps Ember’s feelings were hurt that she wasn’t asked to come along. Angel specifically asked for just Sam and me to come. She thought any more than that would be suspicious.

I put my hands on Ember’s shoulders. “When Angel asks you to come, you come. Even if that means taking off work.”

“I guess you’re right. Anyway, I’m glad she’ll be taken care of, her and her mom.”

“Me too.” We grin at each other before she hugs me good-bye.

“Come back soon.”

“You won’t even know I’m gone.”

The flight from LAX to the Boise airport takes only a few hours. After grabbing a rental car and throwing our luggage in the back, Sam and I head east to the town of Caldwell. It doesn’t take long to get there, and once in town we stop and order lunch from a drive-through fast-food chain. Sam punches Angel’s address into the car’s GPS while we eat.

“Look at that.” He points to the highlighted route on the display. “We’re only a few miles away.”

“I thought we were close by. I can feel her.”

I ball up my trash and chug the rest of my soda.

“I’m ready when you are.”

Sam grins at me. “Let’s go make someone rich.”

We drive a short distance then turn into a neighborhood of modest houses. I smile through the open window as the breeze hits my face. The weather is pleasantly warm and the sky’s full of fluffy white clouds. It would be impossible to be grumpy on a day like this.

The light blue home we pull up in front of is small and old but looks well cared for. While the grass in the yard is yellow and brown, the bushes along the front walk are neatly trimmed. The sidewalk and driveway look swept and there’s a quaint little bench on the front porch.

As we stand on the welcome mat, I give myself a once-over. I smooth out my plum-colored button-up shirt and tuck the ends into my dark slacks. I wore my best clothes hoping to make myself appear older and more professional. Sam’s dressed similarly in gray slacks and a pale blue dress shirt. He looks tough, like a detective on a crime show. He sees me scrutinizing him.

“What?” He smiles a bit self-consciously.

“Do you think we look convincing?” I ask.

“Don’t stress, Addy. It won’t matter what we look like once it’s clear we’re offering money. We could be wearing clown suits for all that matters.” He reaches up and presses the doorbell.

“And you’d still look like a cop.” I grin at him.

“Ha. Probably more so.”

The door opens.

“There you are!” A woman with slightly graying hair stands in the open doorway. She’s covered from head to toe in scars.

“Faye?” Sam and I say in unison.

“We’ve been waiting for you. Come on in.” Faye winks at the two of us conspiratorially. We step inside the foyer and follow her into a small but tidy sitting room. On a couch with an outdated floral pattern sits a petite woman, hands clasped in her lap.

Her clothing looks worn and faded and hangs off her small frame as though it’s two or three sizes too big. Her mousy brown hair is pinned back away from her face revealing big violet eyes. Her expression is haunted. She seems shaken, as though recovering from shock.

“Mrs. Tanner, this is Sam and Adelaide.” We reach across the coffee table and take turns shaking hands.

“Pleasure,” she mumbles absently. “Please, sit.”

We sit next to Faye on an adjacent sofa.

“I’ve already spoken with Mrs. Tanner—”

“Cadence, please,” Angel’s mother interjects numbly.

“Yes, of course,” Faye continues. “I’ve informed her of why we’re here and how the Walker Foundation intends to help.”

“Wonderful,” Sam replies. He’s hiding his confusion and surprise better than I am. “Looks like you’ve done our work for us,” he says amiably.

“I’ve spent some time visiting with Mrs.—excuse me—with Cadence and her daughter, Harmony, and I’m confident they’re the perfect candidates for our charity.”

“That’s happy news,” Sam answers. “Congratulations, ma’am.”

Mrs. Tanner’s trembling hand floats to her face, touching her mouth, then her cheek.

“Oh, goodness. This can’t be real.” She looks from face to face, as if waiting for one of us to crack and tell her it’s all a cruel joke. When our eyes meet, I smile encouragingly at her.

“It IS real, ma’am,” I assure her. “From what we hear, you and your daughter are two very special people, and you deserve whatever help we can give you.”

This seems to be too much for her. She buries her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Faye reaches across the table and rubs her shoulder comfortingly.

“There, there now. It’s all right. Take as long as you need, love.” Faye turns toward Sam and me and says quietly, “Perhaps you two would like to spend some time visiting with Harmony. I’ve got a few more details to hammer out with her mum and it may be a while.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sam says softly. “Where can we find her?”

“Down at the end of the hall there, on the right. It’s the door with ‘princess’ on it.”

As Sam and I walk down the hall, I whisper to him, “Did you know Faye would be here?”

“I had no idea.” He looks as puzzled as I feel. “Angel must have asked her to come a few days ago before she ever mentioned it to us.” We stop outside the door with big pink letters spelling out the word “princess.”

“A few days ago?”

“It had to have been. Faye would’ve needed more time to get here from London.”

“That’s so strange.” My hand’s resting on the door knob. “Why Faye?”

Sam shrugs his shoulders.

“And why not mention it to us?”

“I don’t know, Addy. Let’s go find out.” I push open the door.

What I find waiting for us on the other side is the last thing in the world I would have ever expected to see.

Chapter 51

The walls of
the bedroom are a light pink. A white dresser is in one corner of the room and a purple, oversized bean bag is in another. Against the back wall is a bed. It’s much like one you would see in a hospital, the head slightly raised to a comfortable angle. Chairs sit on either side for visiting. Light from a nearby window falls directly onto the bed, illuminating the small form lying on top of the white sheets.

Automatically, I start to back away to leave, embarrassed that I’ve stumbled into the wrong room.

Please stay.

I freeze where I am, unable to look back at the still figure lying on the bed. Sam peers around me in confusion.

Please.

Though I recognize Angel’s voice in my head, the child I glimpsed on the bed couldn’t possibly be her. It just couldn’t be.

“Oh, no. Angel.” Sam’s hand falls heavily on my shoulder.

He must have seen what I saw.

With great reluctance I turn back toward the room.

Come sit with me.

I’m shaking now, tears already blurring my vision. I blink them away as I walk toward an empty chair next to the body on the bed. We sit, one of us on each side, in the silent room.

The child in front of me is severely disabled. Her arms and legs are pulled in close to her body. Her knees are bent and her legs are crossed. They are so tightly pressed together that they appear welded to one another. Her toes are pointed up toward her shins at an uncomfortable-looking angle. Her arms are in the same state, held stiffly against herself, hands curled inward.

The strain of this rigid position is evident all over her body. Her skin’s pulled firmly across flexed muscles and bulging tendons. An expression of agony looks to be permanently engraved on her face. Though the features there are slightly skewed, the eyes that stare back out at me are undoubtedly Angel’s.

My composure breaks. I drop my head next to her and weep. “I didn’t know. Angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Don’t be sad, Addy. I’m not sad. There’s no need for that.

Sam reaches out and softly places a hand on Angel’s shoulder. “What is this Angel? Are you sick?”

Suddenly hope soars through me. I sit up straight and lay my hands over Angel’s twisted frame. I close my eyes and prepare to heal her.

STOP.

The command echoes through my mind like a gunshot. I have no choice but to obey.

“What? Angel! Let me fix you.”

I don’t need to be fixed. This is who I am. This is the way I was made.

“The way you were made? You mean you’ve always been like this? I don’t understand. I’m sure you can be healed.” I shake my head in disbelief. “Haven’t you tried?”

I can feel her hesitation.

Once. A long time ago, when I first came to Chaos and discovered my abilities.

“And what? You couldn’t do it? Maybe if we work together—”

No Addy. I could have healed myself then. In fact, I was going to. But when I began, it felt so wrong I had to stop. To heal my body, to change what was given to me, felt like a mistake, like sacrilege. I couldn’t do it.

I look at her, confused.

“How could it be wrong?”

I know in my heart this is how I’m supposed to be. This trial is mine to live. I don’t know why it’s this way, but I’ve accepted it.

“But you must be in pain. At least let me make you comfortable.”

No. The pain is mine to bear.

My frustration turns to bitterness. “Then why am I here? Why is Faye here, if not to heal you?”

I needed you to see this. I needed you to be able to hold this image of me in your mind so you can explain it to the other Walkers. I’m sorry, Addy. I’d do it myself and spare you this burden, but I can’t bear all the questions. I can’t bear to live through their good-byes.

My heart is a stone in my chest—hard and cold and heavy. I stare unbelieving into Angel’s eyes.

“No,” I whisper.

“What do you mean ‘good-byes’?” Sam asks, grief making his voice thick.

I’m tired.

“No,” I repeat.

I’ve been tired. For many years. I’ve held on desperately, terrified of leaving Chaos without someone like me, to do what only I can do. And then you came, Addy.

“Don’t. Don’t make this my fault.” I’m angry now.

I’m trying to thank you. I’m hurting, Adelaide. I’ve been in constant pain my whole life … and I’m so tired.

“So you’re going to die because of me?” I’m sobbing uncontrollably. “You can’t! Please Angel! I can’t do this without you. I’m … I’m not ready. I’m not strong enough.” I look to Sam desperately. “Tell her, Sam. Tell her she can’t leave.”

There are tears standing in his eyes as he looks back at me. “That’s beyond me, Addy. I’m so sorry.” He reaches out to grab my hand, but I pull away from him, feeling betrayed. “I can’t make that decision for her, for anybody.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” I tell Angel. “I’ll heal you and you’ll see. You’ll understand then.” But I know as I say the words how wrong they are. A sick feeling comes over me as I picture myself healing Angel’s body against her will.

“You’ll do no such thing.” A stern voice comes from the doorway. I turn to see Faye step into the room and close the door behind her. “Harmony has the right to choose her own path. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but if you try to heal her body, I’ll block you in every way I can.”

“So that’s why you’re here,” I say accusingly. “To keep me from preventing the death of a child.”

Faye’s eyes narrow. She is livid. “And you would hold her here? Unnaturally? You would prolong her suffering? Adelaide Shepherd, shame on you.” The indignation in her voice and expression weakens me. I’m crushed by the weight of her words. When she sees how she’s wounded me, her demeanor softens.

“Can’t you feel it, dove? Can’t you feel her pain?”

I close my eyes and mentally reach for Angel. It takes me only a moment of searching before I once again come up against the wall in her mind. Only this time she allows me through. Like a flood, the pain rushes in. I can feel it in every inch of her body. It’s crippling. Muscles burn with a dull ache. Bones scream out in protest against the constant rigor of the body. This is what she feels all the time? How is she able to withstand it?

Not only has Angel hidden her pain from all of us, but tucked behind her wall I find more sources of misery. I see through her eyes. I witness what she has endured every single day. Her mother’s weary, tired eyes as she cares for her. The strain on her face as she lifts Angel in and out of bed, in and out of her wheelchair. How the constant, around-the-clock attention drains her, physically and emotionally. The overheard conversations on the phone with debt collectors inquiring after overdue medical bills. The crying she hears through the walls at night. And on top of it all, the immense effort of hanging on, of willing her body to live one more day. And then one more.

It’s too much.

Dismayed I realize I have to let her go.

Do you see now?

“Yes. I’m sorry. It was selfish to ask you to stay.” I know to let her die would be a mercy, but it doesn’t make the pain of losing her any less intense. Sam reaches for my hand again and this time I hold on tightly.

You must help the others. They won’t understand. Show them what you’ve seen.

“Wait. Now? Are you leaving right now?” I ask, startled, as the reality of it sinks in.

Soon. I’d like a few more hours with my mother. The money she’s getting will relieve most of her stress. I’d like to see the joy it gives her before I go.

Sam wipes tears on his sleeve and tries to smile through his grief. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart.” His voice trips over the last words. He leans forward and kisses Angel on the cheek.

Sam.
You can hear the smile in her voice.
I love you, brother.

Sam only nods, unable to speak.

Faye steps closer and leans down to kiss Angel’s hair. “Sleep in peace, my dear.”

It’s been so long since I slept, I’m looking forward to it. Thank you, Faye.

Sam stands and walks to the door. I can’t believe this is good-bye. I can’t believe I’ll never see this perfect, beautiful, smiling child again. Angel responds to my desperate thoughts.

I won’t be far, Addy. I’m only going to another realm. A fourth realm. And somehow … I have a feeling it will be the best one yet.

I force my legs to stand and lean down and kiss her porcelain cheek.

“I’ll see you there someday,” I whisper into her ear.

Though I weigh a thousand pounds, I somehow make it to the door. Sam wipes my tears away as best he can. I turn from the doorway and look upon my precious friend one last time. I don’t know for certain, maybe it’s only the light from the window playing across her face, but for a moment I imagine I see her pained expression relax and a peaceful smile rest on her lips.

Later that night, I lay in my hotel room in downtown Boise, wrapped tightly in Sam’s arms. When the time comes, it’s marked by an absence of warmth, a sudden emptiness. I can feel the exact moment when a piece of my heart leaves this world forever. To realms unknown.