The Healer: The Healer Series, #1

Chapter One

Imade my way to Haven’s Hospital like I had two rabid dogs chasing me. My father’s summons to the ICU was shocking. He never asked for my help when it came to his patients.

For good reason.

I was seventeen. So not exactly doctor material.

I was also not allowed to draw attention to myself and heal anyone. Not without my dad’s express permission. Which he rarely gave.

Apparently, when your teenage kid had super powers of healing, said teenage kid was not allowed to use them whenever she saw fit.

Rude.

So, his call tonight—on a school night—was doubly disturbing.

Another awesome element to add to this emergency medical callout was the stranger currently stalking me. The individual’s heartbeat was distinct and something I had picked up on about a week back, always lurking out of sight…somewhere.

Which only added to my anxiety and worry.

So just to recap: Doctor Dad needed my help and actually wanted me to use my freaky powers, and my week-long stalker had decided to follow.

Unfortunate.

I dismissed that worry—since I still hadn’t been able to pinpoint my stalker’s location—and focused on the looming edifice blazing with golden light. Even for a hospital, Haven’s was horribly understaffed and overpopulated.

Hospitals gave folks mixed emotions. I was one of the weird ones who felt perfectly at ease among the staff and patients alike.

Of course, I was never sick, so I’m sure I would have felt differently if the roles were reversed, but I didn’t get sick.

Ever.

I entered the hospital through a side entrance and ran up the stairs rather than taking the elevator. I wanted to avoid as many people as possible. My father met me in the stairwell on the second floor.

He looked awful. My stomach clenched at the thought that someone was injured.

Dad, what’s happened?

In a low tone, he said, A little girl; eight years old. An ambulance brought her in about fifteen minutes ago. Car accident. She has suffered some major head trauma.

Head trauma? My eyes shot to his face. Dad, you know if her brain is too damaged for me to speak to—

Hope, lower your voice. My father glanced around, agitation written all over his face. It’s bad enough I’ve brought you back here. I’ve already cleared out everyone in the ICU. As long as she’s unconscious, there’s nothing they can do, which is convenient for both of us.

I stared at him in amazement as we reached the landing and he opened the door. Nothing they can do? I find it hard to believe your team of doctors and nurses aren’t running more tests just because she’s unconscious.

I did the preliminary exam and told them she was dealing with a minor concussion and a broken arm.

I nearly stopped dead in my tracks.

If I can’t heal her, your preliminary exam is going to have several holes in it. How could they have possibly bought that?

My father’s jaw tightened momentarily, a sign he was about to tell me something unsettling. I may have lied and stated any other tests were strictly against the parents’ religion.

Now I did stop dead in my tracks. Anxiety descended like an unwelcome in-law. You could lose your job. If her brain is beyond repair, you could—

My father’s grip tightened on my arm, and he continued pulling me forward. I know, Hope. Just take a look at her, okay?

I couldn’t understand this. My father was no risk taker, especially when it came to my powers.

We were almost there. A few feet later, we reached the room and rushed inside. I sucked in some air and let it out slowly, recognizing the little girl lying in the hospital bed. It all made sense now.

Eve? I spun around in a panic. You didn’t tell me it was Eve.

You know I couldn’t talk about this over the phone considering how high-profile she is.

Forget the fact she’s the mayor’s daughter; she’s a family friend. I wasn’t sure I could do this. I’d babysat Eve on numerous occasions, and it was always harder to heal people I loved. Too much pressure. I was so afraid I’d fail.

What if Eve was supposed to die? If it were her time to go, I wouldn’t be able to heal anything, and Dad would be investigated for not reporting the severity of Eve’s injuries.

Hope, we can’t let her die. Her father would never survive it.

His voice shook with barely suppressed emotion. He was just as upset about this as me. Now I understood. My father would never risk discovery if it were anyone else but Eve. He’d never put me under this kind of pressure, either. He wanted my life to be just as every day as I did. If I failed to do this, it would devastate me more than he could imagine, and he knew it, but Eve’s parents had been close to mine since before either she or I had been born. We had to save her.

I had to save her.

Is she meant to die, Hope?

I blinked; startled, he’d spoken those words out loud. He was slipping. He wasn’t as careful or as guarded as usual. I pushed those thoughts from my mind and turned around to face my sweet little Eve.

I studied her for a moment and waited for that sinking feeling to settle in, but it didn’t. A promising sign, but there was only one way to be sure.

I reached her bed and grabbed her hand, gently holding it for a moment, getting a feel for her energy. I set it down and placed my hands on either side of her head. Closing my eyes, I searched for her life force, connecting with it instantly. It was strong and welcoming, ready to receive instructions.

She’s not supposed to die, I whispered.

My father’s heavy sigh of relief echoed my own, but I knew the injuries she’d sustained would most likely take her life if I didn’t concentrate and proceed with great care. The process of healing was something I never treated lightly. It required complete focus and meticulous attention to detail. Otherwise, I could make things worse.

Each healing differed from the other. A person’s life force was as one-of-a-kind as a fingerprint and sometimes tricky to reach.

Not this one, though.

Eve possessed a spirit that was pure, innocent, and incredibly trusting.

Connecting to Eve’s life force enabled me to determine problems within her body, the brain being a beneficial source of knowledge, but if I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t be able to save her.

I cringed, grateful she wasn’t conscious enough to experience the pain her injuries caused. The first problem I encountered was damage to her skull and brain tissue. I choked back a tiny sob. I’d spent so many hours with Eve and her vibrant personality. She was a spunky little eight-year-old, and I loved her. I did not like seeing her injuries or feeling her pain.

I found damage to the cerebral cortex, severe swelling in the brain, and a blood clot in the anterior cerebral artery. My concern escalated to a whole new level. The anterior cerebral artery supplied blood to the inner regions of the brain. There was a chance she’d have a stroke if I didn’t dissolve the blood clot as soon as possible, but if the head trauma proved worse than this, her life force wouldn’t be able to send healing instructions to the brain. At least, none that it would be able to recognize or understand.

I took two deep breaths to calm my emotions and then focused on the blood clot, showing Eve’s life force what to do. I wanted the blood clot to dissipate slowly and morph into a thin line. I offered up images from my mind and visualized this rather complex process, giving step-by-step instructions with as much detail as possible. I saw the bits of intelligence within the blood cells begin to respond as her life force relayed my instructions to the brain. It reacted immediately, an excellent sign.

The blood clot thinned out gradually and then completely disappeared.

I wanted to hold her in my arms and cry happy tears of relief. Instead, I let out a shaky sigh and moved on to the next injury.

The brain tissue and veins surrounding the cerebral artery needed repairing, not to mention the fracture to her skull. I continued relaying instructions that were received and implemented with quick efficiency. Turning my attention to the rest of her body, I balked when I discovered a punctured kidney, causing severe internal bleeding. She was supposed to live, but it amazed me that the poor child had lasted this long. I gently stroked her cheek and sent images of healing, knowing her body would obey.

Once I was satisfied with the condition of her kidney, I focused on the rest of the damage. She had a broken arm and some superficial injuries, but they were in no way life-threatening. I reluctantly left those injuries alone, knowing her body would take care of them independently. It wouldn’t do for the girl to have zero injuries after being in such a terrible car accident. I couldn’t raise suspicion or bring unwanted attention to the hospital.

I left the cuts, bruises, and broken arm alone despite an overwhelming desire to do the exact opposite. I settled for teaching Eve’s body how to speed up the healing process, instructing her life force to send specific signals to her sensory nerves – mainly the nociceptors – that no injuries had been sustained. If the signals could prevent her nerves from recognizing the remaining damage, she wouldn’t feel any pain while her body healed.

The pain was an essential part of healing, but there wasn't a need for it if I monitored her progress. I wanted her body well-rested from its ordeal, and easing her pain was the one last kindness I could give her.

Exhausted, I gently released Eve’s small head, severing my connection with the sweet little girl. She no longer had to fight for her life. Tired happiness engulfed me.

Hope, Dad whispered. He laid a warm, supportive hand on my shoulder and rubbed it gently.

I’d been absorbed in the healing and forgot he was there. I glanced at him, struck by how exhausted he looked.

Will she make it? His voice dripped with worry. I gave him an encouraging smile.

She’ll make it. She had a blood clot in her brain and some internal bleeding due to a damaged kidney, but that’s all better now. I rubbed my tired eyes and felt the residue of the little girl’s life force slowly ebbing away from me.

My father still looked worried even though Eve was fine. His graying sideburns and the shadows under his eyes made him appear much older than his forty-three years.

I healed her easily, I continued, hoping he’d stop looking so somber. I watched the even rise and fall of Eve’s chest as she slumbered on, unfettered by the severe condition her body had been in not ten minutes earlier. She was very receptive.

Children were always easier to instruct. They had less baggage and a more trusting nature unless their parents were monsters. Connecting with the life force of a child who’d dealt with years of abuse was nearly impossible. Fortunately, I hadn’t had much experience in that department.

I knew about the head injury and the blood clot, but not the punctured kidney. I’m relieved I got you in here when I did.

I gave him a hard look and wondered why he didn’t sound relieved.

What would I do without you? Sincere but distracted. What was going on with him?

Well, your life would be pathetically boring considering the fact you never do anything but work at this hospital. Glad I can provide some excitement around here occasionally.

I needed him to joke around with me or crack a smile. He mussed up my long, dark hair. I pushed his hand away in annoyance. This mop did not need the added chaos.

The tension we’d felt before I healed Eve began to lessen, and my fun-loving, albeit overprotective, dad resurfaced.

You kept Eve’s lab results a secret then? I asked. He nodded.

The only injuries recorded in her file will be the ones you didn’t heal. His face looked troubled. It’s not the most ethical thing I’ve ever done, but I felt it necessary that we intercede like this, for John’s sake.

That’s what he was worried about. It’s what he was always worried about; being discovered.

We saved her life, Dad.

If anyone finds out I fixed the results…

They won’t, I interrupted. No one will. Just look at what we’ve accomplished!

I turned back to Eve. I was glad I’d had a shift at the hospital earlier. If anyone did see me in the area they’d probably assume I was just working late. I did the cleaning and janitorial work on the third floor. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it gave me some extra pocket money, and allowed me to pursue my main reason for being here. I wanted to help the patients who needed me.

In my mind that was everyone, but my father was big on keeping a low profile. I stuck to healing children, and only if their injuries were life-threatening. Sometimes I helped teenagers and adults when they’d accept me, but many wouldn’t allow me to connect with them. There were so many resistant and distrustful people out there.

I would have liked to have worked as a doctor myself and helped in a more official capacity, especially since I knew more about the human body than any other doctor I’d ever encountered, including my own father. Being a high school senior wasn’t the same as being a college graduate with an MD, so I had to settle for janitorial work.

At the start of each shift, my father would bring me into his office on the second floor and discuss the condition of any patient he felt might benefit from my gift. He didn’t like having me here healing people and would have avoided it altogether but considered it a necessary evil after learning the first three months of my job had been spent dodging various hospital personnel to sneak into patient’s rooms and heal as many children as I possibly could.

When a twelve-year-old boy with a broken leg was miraculously healed, it caused such an uproar amongst the staff and the boy’s parents that my father nearly fired me.

Oops!

I had to suffer through a huge lecture about remaining discreet and avoiding attention, but secretly I was congratulating myself on the young boy’s condition. He was a great kid with an awesome future in soccer, and that break had been a bad one.

After that, my father began monitoring all extra-curricular activities during my shifts. It annoyed me, but I guess I could see the wisdom in it.

There was a Pediatric Oncology Unit that took up the entire third floor. It was funded by some wealthy congressman whose teenage boy had been saved from a fatal gunshot wound by my father. I’d played a major role in that particular miracle, but no one could know that. When I wasn’t cleaning the hospital rooms or making beds, I spent most of my time with the oncology patients. The children seemed so excited for the visits, and for me, that was all that mattered. I tried not to get too attached to them, though. I knew there were many who’d eventually pass on, and I wouldn’t be able to prevent it from happening.

That being said, I’d grown very fond of a ten-year-old boy named Kirby and visited him as often as I could to ease his pain and attempt to heal him. The healing never took, though, and each attempt became a bit more heartbreaking for both Kirby and me.

I kept at it anyway. I wasn’t going to stop trying until I figured out what was preventing me from being successful.

My attention snapped to the present when my father suggested I call it a night and head for home. I nodded, getting ready to walk my weary frame out the door when a thought hit me.

Were there any other people hurt in the accident?

He looked at the floor and swallowed.

Dad?

I moved directly in front of him so he couldn’t avoid my gaze. He let out a loud sigh and sat down in one of the chairs.

John’s office aid, Sarah. She was in the car with them.

I looked down at the floor feeling unreasonably angry.

You were just going to let me go home without even allowing me to assess her situation? She’s the closest thing to a mother that Eve’s got.

Hope, just walk away from this one, he pleaded a bit desperately. She’s an adult. It will be too difficult for you to connect with her, and there’s nothing you can do. I don’t want you internalizing that. I don’t want you comparing this situation to what you’ve already been through with… he stopped talking before the thought could be vocalized.

My father rarely touched on the subject of my mother. All it ever did was leave an uncomfortable silence in its wake. Then he’d be withdrawn and pensive for the rest of the day.

Just let this one go, okay?

I shook my head, refusing to look at his pained expression. I didn’t want him suffering due to my decisions, but I couldn’t walk away from anyone. Not if there was a chance I could help. Being acquainted with Sarah didn’t make the situation any easier. I wasn’t close to her, but I knew Eve couldn’t lose another mother.

You know I can’t do that. I have to at least try. For Eve’s sake, I have to try.

I promise there’s absolutely nothing you can do, and I didn’t get access to her records in time. Her situation is known amongst all applicable staff. There’s really no changing this one, Hope.

Can I just see her?

He ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh.

Only if Betty’s working this shift. I won’t be able to sneak you in if the nurse on call is anyone else.

Betty was the head nurse at the hospital. She tended to turn a blind eye to my sporadic interference because she respected my father, and she was religious enough to believe that my healing influence was a direct gift from god. That’s what she said, anyway. If she suspected what I was really capable of she never let on.

Even though my father was Chief Surgeon at the hospital, he still needed to be careful and follow protocol as much as possible, but his status made it much easier for me to maneuver my way around, healing whomever he allowed me to heal.

Thanks, Dad.

Don’t thank me yet, he grumbled as he reluctantly stood up. I still think this is a bad idea.

I pushed my overprotective father out the door and followed him down the hallway.

Chapter Two

Betty, a slender, middle-aged, black woman, turned from her work and met me with a sad smile.

Hello, Betty, I said. How’s the patient doing?

She’s in a coma. Not sure there’s anything we can do except make her as comfortable as possible and pray to the Lord Jesus that some kinda crazy miracle takes place. She grabbed the tiny gold cross around her neck and kissed it quickly. She was always tugging and kissing on that thing. I found it endearing. Sometimes, though, your presence seems to be all people need, girl. Maybe you could work your crazy mojo on this one and everything will turn out just fine. Her smile brightened a bit.

I smiled back, feeling a special kinship with the wiry woman.

Has her condition changed at all? my father asked.

The nurse shook her head. She had thick black hair that looked as if someone had sprinkled powdered sugar on it. It was pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. I’d always thought she was a natural beauty. The light graying in her hair managed to make her look younger rather than older.

No, Dr. Fairmont, nothing has changed. I’m hoping she’ll pull through, though. It’s gonna be hard on the mayor if she doesn’t.

I didn’t respond. I was too busy studying Sarah and pushing away that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling I always got when I recognized there was nothing I could do. My father must have noticed my distress.

Betty, he said, might I have a word with you outside?

He gave me an encouraging smile, knowing that I needed to be alone for this one, and quickly guided her out of the room.

I sat down next to Sarah and placed my hands on either side of her head. My heart lurched as I connected with her more quickly than I’d anticipated. That kind of thing didn’t usually happen. It tended to take much longer for a connection to occur with an adult. The intense pain her body suffered caught me off guard.

A different kind of emotion gripped me as I realized, with certainty, there was nothing I’d be able to do for her. Sarah was meant to die. No matter how hard I tried, and I would try, her life force would be unable to respond to any instructions I gave it.

Tears formed quickly, tracking silent paths down my cheeks. A tiny spark of anger rippled through me.

No! Your life force must stay. Do you understand? I can save you. I can keep you here.

I sent image after image, begging and pleading with Sarah’s life force to begin the healing process. I focused on the cells that were most badly damaged within the brain and showed them what needed to be done. I focused on the broken bones, the damaged tissues, anything that might elicit a response from her. Over and over again I tried with dogged determination, but I could feel no response from the woman’s spirit other than the overwhelming feeling that it would be departing soon.

Let me go, Hope.

I was so startled by the voice sounding within me, I nearly dropped her head and lost the connection altogether. In all the years I’d been healing, I’d never actually had anyone communicate with me.

Let me go, Sarah said again.

I recovered from my surprise.

I can’t save you unless you fight. You must try harder.

I was frantic for her to understand the seriousness of her situation. Something was different this time. If I could actually communicate back and forth with her, instead of simply sending images and instructions, then maybe Sarah could be saved despite how sure I felt that she had to depart.

You were never meant to save me, Hope. My death will not be your fault any more than your mother’s.

My confusion grew at the mention of my mother.

Sarah, I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What do you know about my mother?

I’d always blamed myself for my mother’s death, but no one other than my father knew anything about that.

You grow more powerful every day, she continued. You’ll have the answers you’re looking for. Now please, Hope. Let me go.

The feeling became more urgent. I nodded and tried to ignore my own heartbreak. Salty tears continued to slowly travel down my stricken face. I released Sarah’s head and broke off the connection between us. The hospital monitor beeped slow and deliberate. I watched as Sarah’s heartbeats grew fewer and farther between until nothing remained but one long, uninterrupted line.

I sat in the hallway outside the intensive care unit thinking how unusual it had been to talk with Sarah. I had no idea what it meant or how it was possible. The life force of a person acted as more of a conduit to the human subconscious. It was always aware of what happened within the body and sent me images of exactly what needed to be fixed. I could usually feel a person’s pain, but beyond that there was no other connection that might have led to a two-way conversation.

Deep in thought, I didn’t sense my father’s presence until I felt him wrap an arm around my shoulder. I only hoped my eyes weren’t too puffy. I knew he’d worry and tell me I should quit my job at the hospital or something equally ridiculous.

I’m so sorry, Hope, he said as he eased back in his seat and rested his head on the wall. I really wanted to spare you the heartache.

I know, but I’m glad I did it. Something different happened this time. I kept my voice lowered.

What? What do you mean? He sat up and leaned forward.

I mean, Sarah’s life force actually spoke to me.

Shock spread across his face. My dad may not have understood exactly how I managed the things that I did, but even he knew that kind of communication was unusual.

He looked around carefully and whispered, You better not tell me about this right now. Why don’t you get home and get dinner started, and I’ll be there in about an hour? We can talk about what this might mean then.

For some reason I had this crazy desire to continue talking about my powers as loudly as I possibly could. Keeping everything a secret had always been difficult, but right now it felt stifling. I wanted to talk about who I was and what I could do without constantly looking over my shoulder.

I knew anonymity was a frustrating must when it came to the amazing miracles that occasionally happened at the hospital. I understood that, but my father wanted me to remain anonymous in almost every way imaginable. I couldn’t have a Facebook, Twitter or email account. I couldn’t blog, and I was barely allowed a cell phone. He didn’t want any of my personal information on the Internet.

A year ago, I’d gone online to order a copy of my birth certificate so I could get my driver’s license, and I couldn’t find anything. No record of my birth anywhere. I mentioned it to my father, and he told me he’d take care of it. Eventually he did, but it felt like we were hiding from someone specific instead of the whole world in general. It still felt that way.

Do you want lasagna or meatloaf? I asked a little louder.

Lasagna will be fine. Be sure to go straight home, Hope. It’s already dark out.

Dad, we live two blocks away. It’ll be fine.

Sometimes my father’s overprotective nature felt like incessant nagging. He just smiled at me and shook his head. I stood up, gave him a big hug, and then walked down the hall toward the elevators.

I waited for the dilapidated machinery to make its way to the second floor. The elevator and I had a love-hate relationship. I hated that it made me wait longer than was necessary, and I was convinced it loved making me wait.

I had plenty of time to think about Sarah again. Not only was I confused about the strange way in which I’d managed to communicate with her, but the remarks she’d made about my mother left me feeling unsettled and anxious.

I don’t know at what exact moment I decided to go visit Kirby, but I found myself getting off the shaky elevator onto the third floor and hanging a right toward the children’s cancer wing.

Turning into the first room on the left, I found Kirby lying on his bed reading The Maze Runner. His level of reading was exceptional for a boy his age. His vocabulary wasn’t half bad either. He immediately dropped his book on the bed as soon as I entered the room.

I was wondering if you’d get a chance to visit me today, he said, smiling brightly.

That desperate for entertainment, are we? I gave him a big grin and sat down on the bed next to him. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed tight. I hugged him back, sensing there was something bothering him.

The TV’s boring, and I’ve read all of these books at least ten times. The most exciting thing that’s happened to me all day was the card I got in the mail from my mom.

Ah ha. His mother was a sore spot for him.

You’re kidding!