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“MR. NICHOLS HAD GONE to the store for some groceries, and had only planned to be gone an hour. The officers knew Ham was alone and one offered to remain inside with him, but Ham said he was fine,” Frank explained. His face was haggard, and he drew a ragged breath before continuing.
“Both officers are in the hospital expected to make a full recovery. One had been shot with the same or a similar dart pistol; the other had been punched in the head and knocked unconscious through his open car window,” he finished.
“That must have been some punch,” Marrisa commented.
“You’re telling me,” Frank replied. “The ER doctor said he has torn muscles in his neck like he’d been in a car wreck.” He continued, “In fact, the doc said it could have broken his neck.”
“What kind of a person can punch hard enough to break a person’s neck?” Marrisa asked, startled.
“Oh, it’s very possible to do so,” Frank confirmed. “It only takes 64 pounds of pressure to snap the neck, and I’ve seen training videos of men hopped-up on PCP and other hallucinogens who could punch through a solid wooden door. The explanation on that video stated the pressure required to do that is in excess of 200 pounds.” They all sat mute for several minutes, astonished by this revelation.
Pris finally broke the silence. “Does anyone know if Ham is alright?”
“They took him to the ER with the officers, and he’s coming around by last report. Apparently, the kidnappers wanted to make sure they put him out quick, so they gave him a very heavy dose,” Frank said, shaking his head. “The two he punched have yet to awaken, they appear to be in some sort of unusual coma.”
“I wish I could go see him, I feel so helpless,” Pris said morosely.
“Behold, I have set before you an open door, which no one is able to shut. I know that you have but little power, and yet you have kept my word and have not denied my name,” Clara said monotonously, staring straight ahead; trancelike.
“What did you say?” Marrisa asked, moving alongside Clara’s bed. Clara’s eyes were open but unseeing.
“Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life,” she said again in the vacant monotone she had used the first time.
“She’s quoting Revelation,” Frank said. “The first one is about your power, I think, and a reminder that you have it. The second one, I’m not so sure about.”
“Try to see Ham,” Marrisa said in a rush.
“Oh, of course,” Pris exclaimed. “I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself instead of using God’s gift. But there’s no TV out here.”
They were in the kitchen, having gone in to eat an early dinner. Frank had placed Clara in her chair, because she had little company and wanted to take full advantage of it when she did. She was positioned at one end of the counter, and Pris was at the other.
“We only have one in the bedroom, because I only watch it with Clara,” Frank said, looking worriedly at his wife. She still stared vacantly into the middle distance, but her breathing was slow and regular.
“Try using the mirror on the wall next to the hallway,” Marrisa suggested.
“Huh?” Pris said, confusing dancing across her features. “Mom, the mirror isn’t plugged in, and isn’t used to communicate.” She spoke as if she were explaining something to a young child having difficulty grasping a concept.
“Young lady, you may not use that tone of voice with me,” Marrisa replied harshly. “I saw a movie once where a magician used a mirror to talk to people in another country,” she explained stiffly, as if embarrassed.
“Hey, can’t hurt to try,” Frank admonished. “You said yourself; you have no idea the limits of what you can do.”
Dutifully, yet hesitantly, Pris turned to face the mirror, which was about 20 feet away. Closing her eyes, she sighed as she relaxed, thinking about Ham. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall...” she began.
The reflection of the room they were in, as seen from several different angles, shimmered for a moment before it disappeared. In its place was a sharp, crisp image of Ham in a hospital bed. An IV ran into his left arm, and his right lay across his chest. As they watched, a woman came in and consulted his chart, then glanced around the room before stealthily pulling a syringe from her smock pocket. Frank was immediately on his radio.
“Get in Ham’s room now,” he screamed into the microphone. “There’s a woman I don’t think belongs in there, and she’s about to inject something into him or his IV.”
As they continued to watch the drama unfold, an officer burst through the door, weapon drawn. There was no sound, but you could tell by the way she flinched he had shouted at her. She held up her hands, assurance and calm radiating from her as her lips moved and she gestured toward Ham’s unconscious form.
The officer wasn’t hearing it, he’d been ordered to stop her, and that was his intent. Shrugging, the woman began to pocket the syringe, walking toward the officer. As he backed toward the door, he spoke something to her again, and this time she lunged at him as she pulled the syringe from her pocket.
It was apparent she intended to inject the officer with the contents, and as her hand began the downward arc toward his chest, the pistol in his erupted. The concussion from the discharge was obvious in the way the air between them rippled, and the woman staggered backward, grasping her abdomen.
Realizing she was found out, she turned the syringe on herself, jabbing it into her own neck and thumbing the plunger down. She convulsed once before dropping to her knees. As she fell forward onto her face, she threw her arms out to her sides as her legs and back locked in a rigid spasm. The officer could be seen shouting into his shoulder mic, and the sound of his voice came out of Frank’s radio.
“Officer needs assistance, room 113, recovery ward.” Then the mirror was just a mirror.
“What is going on?” Pris nearly screamed the words. “That woman just tried to kill Ham.”
Frank was busy on the radio, shouting orders. “Nobody moves her body until I get there, is that understood? Double the guards; one outside the door and one in the room on the other side of the bed. Inside officer to stay as far away from the door as possible, and everyone remain extra vigilant. Clear the floor of all non-essential personnel. Acknowledge.” He was headed for the front door, still talking on the hand-held.
“Jennings, Omikawa, get inside here now. I want two more cars here immediately; one in front and one on the next block watching the back of this house. Move,” he barked.
Frank yanked the front door open without waiting for a response from the officers outside. Clara screamed his name as a blast came through the opening doorway, accompanied by a brilliant fireball of light.