Things from so long ago, lost to time, things that could never reappear.
All dead… But Frank was seen by others, had interacted with everyone. He was no ghost, no figment of Jack’s imagination. Frank helped him save Mia, helped hunt down Cristos. Jack glanced over toward Cristos’s broken body, and his mind snapped, for Cristos was not there. There was no blood, no sign of him ever falling on the rocks.
And he thought on Ryan’s words, on Emily’s suggestion that it was all in his mind. The tumor. Was it causing the delusions, causing him to see the dead, to imagine those he lost around him? But Jack couldn’t be losing his mind. Mia was there before him. And then he thought, if they were dead, did that mean that he…
“Jack, don’t you fall apart on me,” Mia begged, seeing the pained look in his eyes.
“Mia, Ryan said I would become delusional, see things. The tumor must be pressing-”
“What tumor?” Mia said in shock.
“I tried to tell you, early in the week. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say…”
“What, Jack?”
“I’m sick.”
Mia looked at him, confused. “Jack, you’re not sick. You’re as healthy as could be; you just had a full physical a month ago.”
It was Jack’s turn to be confused.
“Jack,” Mia whispered, her eyes filling with tears as if revealing the death of a friend, her heart breaking with her every word. “It’s me. Don’t you remember?”
“What? No, the file, in my desk…”
“That’s my file, Jack. It’s me. I’m the one who is sick. I’m dying!” she cried. “Maybe six months…”
Jack stared at her, his mind a jumble. And he held her tight, his mind becoming unhinged with grief. “No, please…”
“Oh, Jack, please don’t lose it. You have to survive for the girls. You have to be strong.”
“No. Mia, you have to survive. I saved you.”
“Oh, Jack. I will fight, but you remember what Ryan said the chances are?”
Jack’s heart was breaking anew. Everything he had struggled for, everything he had gone through to save her…
Mia looked up into his eyes with her warm, caring heart. “You saved me today… and you’ll go on saving me, day after day, until you can save me no more.”
Jack held her close. He had fought so hard to change fate, but it was all for nothing.
His senses were suddenly filled with the smell of Mia, the odor of her perfume, as if it filled the air around him. Her smell from the powder room that had sparked his memory, that he smelled on her pillow at night, that was forever part of her.
Jack looked at his wrist. He saw the large cut he had sustained coming down the cliff face. And as he looked at it in the light wash from the lighthouse, he became aware of a stunning reality. The tattoo that had so frightened him, that had scared Cristos, was gone. No evidence was there of the Cotis artwork. Not a drop of ink, not a word, just his arm bleeding profusely.
And the light from the lighthouse softened, becoming moonlight…
Jack’s eyes flashed open. He found himself lying on the riverbank, the raging Byram River just feet away. Moonlight danced off the wet leaves and rocks, the thundering river painting the soundscape. There were pieces of the car washed up on the shore by his feet, packages and bags from the rear of the Tahoe. The air was filled with Mia’s perfume, her signature smell, as if it inhabited the world around him.
And as he turned his head, he saw Mia lying facedown in a shallow eddy of water. He scrambled to her, turned her over, draping his body over hers.
Ignoring his pain, he ran his hands around her face. “Mia? Please, Mia…”
He laid his mouth over hers, breathing for her. He pumped her chest as he had done moments ago on the beach. Praying with every compression, “Please, God, please don’t let her die. Take me, take me instead.”
He glanced over to see the crumpled wreckage of the Tahoe, both airbags deployed.
He turned his eyes back on her and found her staring up at him.
“Jack,” Mia whispered. Moonlight reflected off the stones in the blue necklace that he had clasped around her neck just fifteen minutes earlier, its explosion of color filling his eyes.
“Jack, are you all right?”
Jack looked into her eyes. She was alive; somehow he knew she would live.
Jack’s memory was clear, unhindered. And he saw the last moments.
The SUV hit the bridge pavement… the rear wheels lost their traction… the Tahoe went into a sudden fishtail, he held tight to the wheel as it skirted left to right and back again. He pulled hard to bring the vehicle under control. Mia’s left hand shot up and gripped the passenger strap above the door. Their collective breath caught in their throats as the car spun headfirst toward the guardrail… crashing through, diving toward the raging river. They knifed into the rushing current, water exploded upward, and despite the airbag deployment, Jack’s head smashed into the steering wheel, and all faded to black…
Jack looked at the car door washed up on the riverbank beside them, at the objects that littered the muddy ground around him, the raging river having washed it all up onshore. There were soccer balls and tennis rackets; the girls’ blue and brown bears, their hair matted, covered in mud; there was the half-open birthday present for Joy, the expensive black purse he got for her birthday next week; Mia’s shopping bag from the department store, the rose-red lipstick sitting in sharp contrast to the muddy ground; three bottles of Mia’s favorite perfume shattered, shards of glass twinkling in the moonlight as the fragrance permeated everything around them.
And all of the pain flooded in, as if a pause button had just been released on his nervous system. His head was throbbing, the cuts on his face feeling as if they had been doused with acid, his chest on fire with a pain he never knew could be so severe.
Jack finally looked at his chest. A shard of metal protruded from the left side, running clear through. His left arm was mangled and bloody. There was no sign of a tattoo, no sign that anyone had written on him… no sign of being shot.
The contusion on his head was severe; he didn’t need an X-ray to tell him that his skull was cracked, to tell him that his wounds were fatal.
As the pain grew, overwhelming him with agony, he began to falter, his eyes struggling to remain open, his breathing heavy, focused as if he could fight off the inevitable. Despite his strength of will, he finally collapsed onto his back.
It wasn’t until 4:30 a.m. that the broken guard rail was noticed by a passing vehicle.
It was just after 5:30, the glow of dawn on the horizon, when Mia and Jack were rushed to the hospital.
CHAPTER 45
Ryan McCourt raced from his home to find his friends in the emergency room. He looked at Mia’s X-rays, the CAT scans and MRIs side-by-side, two versions, the ones from ten days ago when he had told them of her diagnosis and the ones moments old. He compared them, up close, side-by-side. Dumbstruck, he quickly pulled them down. No one would believe it, for there could be no explanation.
Hope Keeler’s six-year-old eyes drifted open; she could hear the sound of the crashing waves on the sandy beach as she lay in the oversized bed at her grandmother’s house. And as the first light of morning washed through the slatted window shades, she saw her father standing there in the early-morning light.
“Hey, baby,” Jack whispered, the sound of his voice painting a broad smile on Hope’s face.
And with the sound of his voice, Sara stirred and rolled over. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Daddy’s going away for a bit.” Jack smiled.
“Where?” Hope asked.
“Not far, but always remember I’m with you,” he said as he reached out and touched their hearts.
“Where’s Mommy?”
“Mommy’s fine. She’s sleeping. You do me a favor and tell her I love her.”