Читать книгу Blue Flame - Robert A. Webster - Страница 12

Silence fell over the capacity crowd at the Sheffield arena, where minutes earlier the raucous sound of cheering and yelling coursed through the stadium. Two boxers had stood toe-to-toe in the centre of a ring, slugging it out for the European middleweight crown.

The popular boxer from Sheffield had dominated the first few rounds of the fight and the crowd cheered him on. Now in the sixth round, he knew by looking at his bruised opponent that he could finish the fight after feeling less power coming from his punches. Although an earlier clash of heads left a minor cut on his eyebrow that the last punch opened but he ignored it and thundered a shot into the fighter ribs. He grinned as the fighter winced, dropped his hands, and left the way open for a clean left hook to the jaw which he knew would end the fight with a knockout. He was about to deliver the haymaker when his body juddered and with a shocked expression, collapsed to the floor.

The cheering stopped, and the audience looked stunned as the referee pointed and the other fighter went to stand in his corner, shrugging and shaking his head. The referee knelt and checked the fighter.

“It’s a bloody fix. He never touched him,” yelled someone in the audience, followed by jeering and booing that echoed around the arena.

The referee stood up and looked shocked as he beckoned the ring doctor.

With their hometown hero now lying motionless in the centre of the ring, the crowd went silent watching the ring doctor examined the fallen fighter.

Pandemonium ensued as the doctor ordered the ring cleared. Corner men and the other fighter who looked shaken left the ring. Everyone in attendance knew the situation was dire, and the fallen fighter now had another fight to win, the fight for his life. The ring announcer reassured the audience while the doctor and the fighter’s trainer performed CPR on the splayed-out boxer.

Paramedics arrived on the scene and went into the ring with their portable monitors and lifesaving equipment. A paramedic set up an Ambu-bag and intubated the boxer, then squeezed the bag to get air into his lungs. Another paramedic charged up a portable defibrillator, and when the gauges reached 100 joules, he shouted, “Charged.”

The doctor placed paddles on the man’s chest. “Clear,” instructed the doctor as he pressed the button, sending a powerful surge of electricity coursing through the boxer’s body, arching it off the canvas floor.

They watched the portable monitor showing the man’s heart rhythm as a flat line, so the doctor increased the voltage to the maximum 300 joules and shocked him again. The paramedic handed the doctor a syringe containing Epinephrine, which he then injected into the boxer’s chest.

The medics continued CPR several for minutes until the doctor checked the boxer’s pupils and confirmed the information on the monitor.

“Fixed and dilated,” said the doctor. “And it’s reading flat line on the monitor.” He looked at his watch and said, “Time of death, 19:05.”

The medical team lifted the boxer out of the ring, put him on a gurney, and wheeled him out of the arena, with the sound of crying and mourning filling the stadium. They put the body in the ambulance and covered it with a sheet.

The ambulance drove away, heading to the Hallamshire hospital. The doctor, a medic, and the boxer’s trainer sat in the back, along with the body.

Gus, the trainer, held his head in his hands, and after several minutes, mumbled, “I don’t know what happened. One minute he was winning, the next he…”

A loud belch emanated from the corpse, making them jump.

“It’s just a reflex,” said the doctor as the boxer sat bolt upright and the sheet slipped off.

“What round is it Gus?” asked the boxer.

“Round six,” stuttered the shocked trainer taken aback.

“Did I win?” asked the boxer.

With his mouth agape, Gus nodded, and the boxer lay back down.

Although taken by surprise the medic’s reflexes kicked in and he placed monitors and re-sited the lifesaving equipment onto the sleeping boxer.

“Arrhythmia… sinus rhythm and respirations are normal,” he told the doctor.

The bemused doctor looked at his watch and exclaimed, “That’s impossible. He’s been dead for nineteen minutes!”

The ambulance pulled up to the front of the accident and emergency department. The dazed doctor, paramedics, and trainer went inside, while the hospital staff wheeled the sleeping boxer to the Intensive Care Unit.

PATH RC389: 2011

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* * *

Vibrant sights and sounds of nature filled the woodland around the cottage, with the trees, foliage and flowers in full bloom, the quaint old cottage looked picturesque. Church and Pinky spent most of their time outside walking among the hedgerows. Church had set up a website www.PATH.com, which now provided him and Pinky with a useful tool for the first contact in finding relatives of lost soul’s location, using Google maps.

One evening, while Church sat at his desk updating the website, the familiar smell of Brussels sprouts filled the room.

He smiled and looked at the portal as Granny Pearl appeared.

“Hi Gran,” said Church, “Have you got another assignment for us?” He asked, hoping it would be lucrative, like the last one.

Church pressed a button on his newly installed intercom.

“Pinky, Granny Pearl’s here.”

“Church, I have another assignment for you both. We have a problem, and with the upheaval and damage repair still going on within the spirit world after the Diabolus encounter, we hoped you would help. The location was close,” Granny Pearl told him.

Pinky came in the portal room.

“Hello, Sharon, I hope you are well.”

“Hi, Granny Pearl,” said Sharon, facing the portal. “Yes, I am okay. Have you got another assignment for us?”

Pinky sat at Church’s desk while Granny Pearl explained, “A psychic surge emitted from a split in the fabric of our world, hitting the mortal world. Although extremely rare and usually harmless, it was the first time that a surge hit someone who was injured. Because of this, the mortal died, entering our world before his time. We returned the soul but he now has the gift and unprepared. We sent a Spirit Guide to make contact, but a mortal intervention’s needed, as the newly gifted one doesn’t seem to get on with the Guide we sent.”

Church nodded at Pinky, who smiled.

“Yeah, it sounds simple enough. No problem Gran, give me the details.”

* * *

People inundated the Intensive Care Unit of the hospital wanting to see the wonder patient. Journalists waited for the story from the man who had been clinically dead for almost 20 minutes and came back. The head of the hospital restricted the number of visitors, only allowing close friends and relatives.

The boxer settled into a private ward. Although still attached to monitors, he was free of the tubes and drips, so he could move around the room.

‘I’m bored,’ he thought, ‘I hope I’m not here long, and the voices in my head stop annoying me.’ His thoughts interrupted by the odour of onions filling the room and he sighed, ‘Oh, not again’ he thought.

“Hello, laddie,” said a Scottish voice.

“Piss off, Hamish,” shouted the boxer.

“Now laddie, dunae be like that,” said the voice. “I have something important to tell yee.”

“Don’t you always…Spirits, Guides, the gift; always important, but only a load of bollocks. Anyway, you are only my imagination because I may have brain damage, the doctor told me,” said the fighter and yelled. “Now bugger off.”

“Ach, jest listen to me fer one last time, and then I’ll be oot of your life forever,” said Hamish’s spirit.

“Good, because I used to like onions until your stink turned up.”

Hamish, the Spirit Guide, spoke to the boxer for several minutes and gave him some instructions. The boxer wanting to get rid of the annoying voice in his head and get back to enjoying onions.

Twilight eased out the sun to take over its night shift. The boxer sat at the window of his private hospital room watching this daily cosmic battle unfold. He had never noticed before, the wonderful, simple things that happen daily on our little blue planet. Because of his near-death experience, he did not intend to let anything, however insignificant, pass unnoticed.

A nurse came into his room to tell him that he had two visitors and asked if they could come in.

“They said you were expecting them,” said the nurse.

“Yes, I am,” he said, “Let them in please.”

A middle-aged man and a young woman entered the room and went over to the fighter. Ryan felt confused; he had seen people bathed in white lights but put that down to his head injury. Now he wasn’t so sure and gaped as the pair approached. He saw the girl had a crimson aura radiating around her, while the man’s looked like a rainbow.

“Hello, my name is Church, and this is Pinky. You must be Ryan… and a tad bit confused,” said Church.

Ryan nodded his head and turning pale, said, “Am I going crazy, as all this sounds unbelievable,” He looked at the pair and mumbled, “but I suppose you two being here like Hamish said you would be made it credible. Although, a tad bit confused, was a bloody understatement.” He pointed at Pinky and continued, “You are the same colour as me. He then pointed at Church, “apart from me and you two, everyone else has a white glow.”

Pinky looked gooey-eyed at Ryan’s muscular figure. ‘He’s a bit of alright.’ She thought as Church said, “We are special.” He smiled at Ryan and his tone soothed and reassured him as Church continued, “I’ll explain things to you and know you have a lot of questions.”

Church explained about the spirit world, the gift, Guides, and Keepers, along with their role as Paranormal Assisted Treasure Hunters.

The conversation went on for over an hour, with Church explaining and Ryan asking question after question. Ryan told him that Hamish had given him the same information, but it sounded ludicrous coming from a voice in his head called Hamish. Ryan now felt guilty about the times he had been rude to Hamish.

“You’re bloody lucky,” Pinky told him, “We had to go through far worse. You had one spirit Guide; normally we have many voices trying to get through at the start, not to mention the blinding headaches. It felt like a flock of birds pecking my head until my guardian angel explained things and helped me.” She smiled at Church and told Ryan, “My Spirit Guide auntie sent Church to rescue me three years ago and he’s here to help you too, Ryan Clark.”

Church felt Ryan’s emotion change from fear and confusion to comfort and reassurance. He sensed that he was still unconvinced, so said, “I know you’re still confused and have a lot more questions. I also know you are hungry and want a cheese sandwich, so we will continue this conversation tomorrow morning.”

Ryan, although taken aback about the sandwich, it confirmed he was dealing with someone special but felt weary and ask them to come the next day.

A nurse came into the room with Ryan’s medication and noticed Church and Pinky getting ready to leave.

“We’ll see you in the morning Ryan” Said Church. Pinky mumbled under her breath about him being a sexy man, as she followed Church outside, closing the door behind her.

Ryan felt contented as he swallowed his medication.

“Any chance of a sandwich?” he asked.

The nurse smiled. “I’m sure the kitchen will make an exception for the ‘wonder’ patient,” she chuckled and asked, “What would you like in it?”

Ryan paused, smiled, and said, “Cheese and Hamish.”

“What?”

“Sorry, I meant cheese and onion,” said Ryan, grinning.

* * *

Church and Pinky stepped into the warm summer night and checked into a local bed and breakfast.

The next morning, Church, Pinky, and Ryan reconvened in the hospital room.

Church sensed Ryan’s anxiety.

After a long discussion, Ryan fell silent. He’d had the answers to most of his concerns, except for one, so he asked,

“What can I do with this power, and how do I use it to make a living? Do I work as some sort of fortune-teller at the local fair? What use is it? My boxing career is finished. I would never pass another medical.”

There was silence as Church considered Ryan’s quandary. He was older than others who had received the gift, so Church wondered if he could accept this new power.

Pinky broke the awkward silence,

“Why doesn’t he come and work with us Church?” she asked.

Church thought for a moment and decided that they could certainly use some muscle, as some of his initial contacts had not gone as expected.

Church nodded, smiled, and said, “What do you think Ryan? Do you want to come and work with us at PATH, now that you know what we do?”

Ryan rubbed his chin.

“What’s the pay like?” he asked.

Pinky chuckled and said, “What pay?”

Church smiled and shrugged, “I have never considered pay.” He said, “We live well, and if either of us wanted anything, we went out and bought it.”

“Live well, does that mean plenty of food?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” said Pink, adding, “Church is a great cook.”

Ryan smiled and Church sensed another emotion coming from him, as he chuckled and said, “It sounded more like a family.”

Pinky and Church nodded as they smiled at him.

Ryan was 29 years old. A boxer from an early age, he spent most of his time with trainers and other boxers. He had been lodging with Gus above the boxing gym for four years and had no contact with his family for some time

“Hmm, I get discharged today. Can I think about your offer and let you know later?” Ryan asked.

“Of course Ryan, take your time… it’s a big decision,” said Church, but he already knew the answer.

* * *

Ryan put away his clothes that he had earlier collected from the gym. When they first arrived at the quaint old cottage, Ryan expected Lurch Adams to answer the door and fight off cobwebs, but felt pleasantly surprised by its plush, modern interior. Ryan liked his room, with a large T.V. and music system, an en-suite bathroom and Jacuzzi, he felt at home. He looked out of the window at the large tree and bushes surrounding the cottage. ‘This place was well hidden, I wonder where little red riding hood hangs out?’ he chuckled.

Church told Ryan to settle in, while he cooked them all something to eat. Ryan unpacked his belongings and caught a whiff of pleasing aromas.

‘Yummy.’ he thought, ‘Church must be cooking a roast dinner.’

He sniffed the air, trying to distinguish the smells. ‘Hmm… Brussels sprouts and onions, I hope there’s a roast chicken to go with that.’ he thought.

There came a knock on his door. Pinky popped her head in and said, “One of the family’s here to meet you, and she’s brought a friend of yours along to say hello.”

Ryan looked puzzled and said, “I didn’t hear anyone knocking at the front door.”

Pinky chuckled as she and Ryan headed for the portal room. The PATH team was now complete.

PATH RC389: Gift for the dead: 2011: Case Closed.