M Sellars - Harm none

Falling.

Darkness.

Light.

He’s still on top of me. How long was I passed out? It couldn’t have been long if he’s still here. Dear God I hurt. My chest is burning. What is that pressure? Why is this happening? Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come…NOooo!

Pain.

Ouch! What are you doing? It hurts when you pull on that rope so hard. I’ve seen you before. You have such pretty hair. What? You want me to come to you? Why? Do you know who I am? I thought I was Karen but Karen is dead. Why are you so upset? I’m very tired. Maybe I should just go to sleep.

Darkness.

Light.

Fear.

Pain.

Terror.

Darkness. Cold, endless darkness.

I was intrigued by the sight before me. I wasn’t entirely sure how I was managing to float above it in mid air, but I was comfortable, and the mechanics of it were the farthest thing from my mind. Ben and Felicity were kneeling on the floor, and my friend was checking the pulse on a body sprawled between them. They looked very grim and seemed upset.

“ Rowan, follow my voice.”

I heard my wife call to me, but I never saw her lips move. I wondered why she couldn’t see me; I was floating right above her.

“He hasn’t got a pulse!” Ben exclaimed. “I’m going to start CPR.”

“Who hasn’t got a pulse?” I thought. I needed to see whom they were huddled over.

“No!” Felicity told him. “Not yet, this isn’t what you think it is.”

“ Rowan, I know you’re there. I’m pulling the rope as hard as I can. Help me! Follow my voice.”

Once again, Felicity’s melodious voice echoed in my ears, but her lips never parted. I floated a little closer. I had to see who was lying on the floor between them.

“Are you fucking nuts, Felicity?” Ben exclaimed loudly. “He’s dying! His fucking heart stopped beating!”

“Dammit Ben,” she shot back at him wildly. “I know what I’m doing, and your interruptions aren’t helping!”

“ Rowan! Help me dammit! Follow my voice!”

Ben jerked back in surprise from my wild-eyed wife. I don’t think he had ever truly experienced her temper until now. I looked down between them as the space opened enough for me to see. The body on the floor had a very familiar face. Brown hair. Bearded. A small scar on his forehead. Exactly like a scar I had on my own forehead. It slowly dawned on me that I was looking at myself.

“ Rowan!”

There was a sharp tug at my waist.

I began falling.

White noise filled my ears. I felt a sharp burst of pain through my chest, and I began hungrily gasping for air. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Ben and Felicity staring back at me. Ben shook his head as if he had just witnessed a miracle and let out a long sigh. Felicity’s lips parted in a slight smile as she stroked my forehead.

“Welcome back,” she said.

“Thanks for not letting go,” I whispered.

The hot, bright sun flooded the landscape, beating down upon us from the clear sky and broiling the last drops of moisture from the ground. By late afternoon, no one would be able to tell that it had rained the night before. I was sitting on the back of Felicity’s Jeep drinking the remains of a lemon-flavored sport drink she had kept in her gym bag. The drink was hot and tasted horrible. Its acidic tang slightly burned the back of my tongue and my throat as I swallowed. I had tried to refuse the beverage; my wife however, insisted I drink it all in order to replenish the electrolytes in my body.

My eyes were still adjusting to the glare as I watched Ben and Felicity in silence. I remembered the entire incident clearly. The two of them were shuffling about nervously, making it a point to avoid one another, not saying a word or even making eye contact. Every now and then one of them would ask me how I was doing, and Ben even asked me several times if he should take me to the hospital. I finished the last of the sport drink with a gulp and screwed the lid tightly back onto the plastic container then tossed it over my shoulder into the rear of the Jeep.

“Are you two going to kiss and make up?” I finally asked.

Ben and Felicity both stopped in their tracks and looked at me suspiciously.

“Yeah,” I told them. “I heard you two snap at each other. I may not have been in my body at the time, but I was in the room.”

“So look,” Ben started, looking down at the ground. “I’m not really used to this kinda stuff, Felicity. I…”

“Aye, you don’t have to say it, Ben,” Felicity interrupted. “We were both on edge. If we should be mad at anyone, it’s him.” She motioned to me. “Not each other.”

“Wait a minute,” I protested. “I wasn’t involved in your little spat.”

“I beg to differ,” my wife informed me. “Just exactly who was laying in there with no pulse? I told you it was dangerous.”

“She’s right, Rowan,” Ben chimed in. “I thought you were dead, and for what?”

“Grey eyes,” I told them.

“Excuse me?” Felicity intoned.

“Grey eyes,” I repeated. “The killer has got grey eyes. I saw them.”

“So you actually did see somethin’?” Ben queried as he flipped out his ever-present notebook.

“Just the eyes,” I answered. “He was either very careful about being seen, or he was very lucky.”

“That’s somethin’ I don’t quite understand,” Ben stated.

“What’s that?” Felicity asked.

“Why would he care?” he continued. “It’s not like his victims can give an eyewitness description.”

“Fear,” I stated simply. “I think that might be why he props the doors open too.”

They both stared at me blankly as if I had lost them.

“Think about it,” I proceeded. “When my body shut down in there, my spirit or soul, whatever you prefer to call it, left. But it didn’t go very far, obviously, because I watched you two argue about giving me CPR. That’s what turned me on to this idea. I think the killer not only feels remorse but fear as well. He performs the Expiation spell for forgiveness, and he props the door open so his victim’s spirit can leave.”

“I still don’t see the connection with hiding his face from the victims,” Ben puzzled.

“He fears retribution from the spirits of his victims,” Felicity interjected, realizing what I was trying to explain. “He keeps his identity hidden so they can’t find him.”

“You mean ta’ tell me he thinks the ghosts of his victims will come after him for revenge?” Ben asked incredulously. “That’s nuts. That’s just plain nuts.”

“It all depends on what you believe, Ben,” I told him.

“What about the fact that he killed her out here in the park?” he protested. “It seems like that would fit more with the wantin’-ta’-get-caught theory you mentioned.”

“I don’t know why he killed her out here,” I replied. “I just know what I feel, and what I feel right now is that he’s propping the doors open to let the victims’ spirits escape.”

“This is a pretty secluded section of the park,” Felicity interjected as she shaded her eyes and looked around. “You’ve got the wooded area with the fitness trail, but that’s about it. Most of the activity would be taking place closer to the front of the park where the pavilions and ballfields are.”

“Jeezus, this is one twisted fuckhead,” Ben muttered.

“We knew that already,” I told him.

“Does R.J. have grey eyes?” Felicity asked.

“Not that I recall,” I replied, “but I can’t say that I paid that much attention.”

“I still wanna talk to ‘im anyway,” Ben stated flatly.

Ben’s comment was followed by an awkward pause as his suspicion had once again reared its omnipresent head.