Chapter Twenty One
Black
Falling. That was the only word to describe what Kayde was feeling. He’d slipped through some crack, a wide gaping hole, and was falling, and falling, but never reaching the bottom of the blackness he fell through. He opened his eyes as wide as he could, but the dark consumed everything around him. Kayde opened his mouth and screamed; no sound could be heard. Deep sorrow took a hold of him and he cried harder than he’d ever cried…silently. It was so cold in the darkness. He’d never felt so completely and utterly alone.
Don’t leave me alone here! he screamed in his mind. But who was he screaming to? No one was there.
After what seemed like days, a whisper touched his ears—it was so out of place in the void that Kayde’s senses were immediately brought to full attention. A voice whispered a name. “Rabecca.”
At the sound of that name, Kayde’s body jarred against an unseen floor. Pain burst through him like a thousand jagged, ripping volts of lightening. He screamed again and his voice was unleashed. It filled the air until he thought his ears would burst from the sound.
After his cries echoed away, Kayde lay there, breathing heavily. A pin-point of light shone above him. In the darkness, it seemed brighter than the sun. Struggling against his broken body, Kayde rose and stretched his hand toward the light, squinting. “Please! Help me! Don’t leave me here!” He felt the tears on his face, felt the warmth of them. The light grew brighter, sending more heat.
Rabecca… Kayde’s heart beat faster. He remembered now. He remembered her, remembered their love, her song--and he remembered what he’d done. For a time--he had no idea how long, but it seemed an endless time--Kayde’s thoughts kept him grim company. The light neither grew stronger nor faded as his mind churned with grinding images. Why had he used his voice? He’d promised himself, and he’d promised Becca that he wouldn’t. He shouldn’t have sung that locket into being; it had opened up the music, giving it control again.
Sorrow took a stronger hold of him; he hadn’t even had the chance to give Becca that locket. He shuddered at the thought of the dark song he’d conjured at the road. It had been the most evil thing he’d ever experienced--and it had come from him.
Clenching his jaw in anger against the pain, Kayde vowed if he was still able to sing in this place, or any other, he would never do so again. Nothing good ever came of his ability. If only he’d kept that vow to begin with…
Shame assaulted him as the light grew slightly, reminding him it was there. He turned away from it with sorrow for Becca cutting through his torn heart. No, I deserve to be left here. I deserve pain and loneliness. Go away!
But the light grew stronger, washing over him, drawing him towards it more strongly than the darkness had drawn him before. Where will you run, Kayde? the voice asked. She needs you.
Kayde fell to his knees and bent his body until his forehead touched the floor. He crossed his arms, hugging against his ribs that ached from his retched sobbing. How could Becca need a monster? He’d destroyed the only thing in his life that had ever touched him in a positive way. Her touch had been so powerful; she’d given him life. She’d helped him become stronger, to be a better person. He’d been truly happy for the first time that he could remember.
But he’d set a trap with his stupid ability. He’d probably killed her. She would be at peace now, the angel had gone home.
The whisper was more commanding when it spoke again. Kayde could not deny the power in the voice. “Kayde, get up. There’s work to be done. Embrace your purpose.”
“What? What do you mean? What is my purpose?” Kayde asked as he raised his face toward the ever-increasing light. He couldn’t understand how he could be any use to anyone now. Silence returned his questions.
Then, a far away beeping pulsed through the light. It was steady and grew louder with every second. The beep shouted against his eardrum and he jolted, his eyes flying open. (He hadn’t remembered closing them.) He looked around, startled and disoriented.
Kayde sat in an uncomfortable chair. Pale, florescent light struggled against the dim room. A blue curtain surrounded the room, adding to the dullness. A medicated smell filled the air, and he could hear faint voices from somewhere outside the curtain. And lying next to him on a bed…
Leaping to his feet, Kayde shouted, “BECCA!” The beeping he’d heard was a heart monitor. Other monitors and tubes were attached to her body, making it look as if she belonged in some science fiction horror movie. Her face was bruised and scraped, her arm in a cast, her neck in a brace. Oh, God! What have I done to her?
Kayde reached shakily for her hand. She was so pale; she looked insanely fragile, like a porcelain doll. He placed his hand lightly over her fingers sticking out of the end of the cast. Hearing her music was the only way he’d know she was really alive.
The music was there, but faint. Kayde breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t left her completely brain dead, at least. He must’ve absorbed most of the spell himself.
Kayde’s heart caught in his throat. Then why am I not hurt? A blur of memories assaulted his mind. He’d hit the wall, he’d crashed. His body had been broken--he’d slipped into darkness. Yet, here he stood, perfect and whole. Was this part of his powers? Could he and his family heal themselves quickly? Or, had that strange light done something to him? Had it healed him?
Kayde wondered at these things as he watched Becca breathe. The wounds on her face angered him. They were far worse than what that ape, Gabe, had done to her. Kayde ran his fingers through his hair, fighting revulsion. Again, he vowed he’d never use his ability for any reason, whether good or bad.
He swallowed back the tears, tilting his head to look up at the squares on the ceiling. Had that light been real? Please, if you’re really there, help Becca.
The curtain was suddenly drawn aside in a whoosh of air and rings scraping against a metal rod, causing Kayde to jump. A plump, red-haired nurse walked to the monitors on the opposite side of the bed and jotted numbers down on a chart. “Is she going to be okay?” Kayde asked, trying to steady his voice. The nurse ignored him as she turned and changed the bag of fluids dripping into the tube connected to Becca’s good arm.
“Please, just tell me how she is. I need to know,” Kayde spoke more urgently. Tears stung his eyes. Why wouldn’t she answer? Was it because the news was bad?
The nurse didn’t even look his way. She gathered up the chart and empty fluid bag and turned to leave the room. “Hey! I’m talking to you!” Kayde was suddenly angry. “Listen to me! Tell me how she is! Can you hear me?” Is she deaf? He needed answers. Kayde followed the nurse as she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. Without thinking, he stepped through it and then stopped cold.
The door had closed. He hadn’t reached out and opened it. He’d just stepped through. The sound of a thousand motorcycles engines roared in his ears. He had to have opened the door. He’d been upset and wasn’t paying attention. Kayde turned and faced the door. He stared at the handle for several minutes, scared to touch it. Shakily, he reached toward it, placed his hand over the smooth silver handle, and squeezed.
His fingers slipped through the handle as if they were nothing more than air.
Oh, no! No! No! No! Kayde backed away from the door in state of shock and panic. Becca hadn’t died--but he had!