Stepping into the Sky: Jump When Ready, Book 3 (2 page)

Joseph’s mouth dropped open. In his shock, he didn’t even
attempt covering himself. Behind him, Linda drew up sheets and dropped her
head, a curtain of red hair hiding her face.

“I was… I was just—” Joseph stared at her, his eyes
bulging.

Rose recovered control and turned before he finished the
sentence. Her feet came unstuck and she ran down the hall.

“I was on my way! Just now, I was—”

Rose’s feet pounded the same steps she’d silently climbed
moments ago.

“Rose, hang on!” Joseph’s voice echoed above her,
reverberating through the hall as she fled. “It’s not what you think!”

Then she was in her car, starting the engine, pulling out
into the street. Her tires squealed and she drove blindly. She wiped her
forearm across her face, wishing she’d worn something with sleeves so she could
dry her eyes.

She raced out of the neighborhood and pointed her car
home. She sped back along the winding road that rose toward the cliffs, telling
herself she should slow down. But she didn’t. What did it matter if she slowed
down? How could it possibly matter?

She took a sharp curve, tires screeching, and continued
to climb. She careened again, fishtailing as an oncoming car swerved. The other
driver leaned on his horn. Rose sobbed and gasped for breath. She stomped on
the brakes and her Thunderbird skidded before lurching to a stop. She held her
face in her hands as she wept. Soon, a truck approached, its engine rumbling as
it slowed, the driver spotting her idling in the middle of the road.

Rose had no choice but to move. She shifted into drive
again and climbed, the truck behind her, the noise of its churning engine
tearing into her brain. Ahead, she saw the lookout point and pulled in, letting
the truck pass. She gazed blankly past the semi-circular stone wall and out at
the whitecaps, the gulls laughing above.

Rose got out of her car and walked toward the stone wall.
She swung her legs over it and sat staring out, feeling numb, seeing only
within herself another tragedy she couldn’t have imagined possible. She thought
of barely remembered faces. She reached back through time, trying to recover
their expressions, their gazes, their embrace. She waited, hoping to feel the
love of her lost parents surrounding her. A cloud passed over the sun, leaving
her in more darkness.

Then she heard it in the distance—the throaty roar of
Joseph’s Camaro as it raced up the incline.

Was he coming for her? Part of her wanted it to be true.

But it could never matter now, she knew. How could it
ever matter?

Within seconds, his car blasted by. He hadn’t seen her,
Rose felt sure—he couldn’t have. Rose told herself to remain where she was. She
told herself it was already over, that life no longer mattered. But her body
sprang into action for some reason she couldn’t understand. She scrambled to
her car and jolted the engine to life. Gravel sprayed as she took to the road
again, even as she asked herself what she wanted, what she could possibly hope
for. Was it confrontation? Was it sympathy? Did she want to see him cry and beg
forgiveness? She didn’t know and there wasn’t time to think as she sped after
him.

Rose rounded a corner, clearing the trees. She raced
after him, imagining his face stretched with pain as he cried, hunched over the
steering wheel, desperately thinking he’d soon catch up to her. She stomped her
foot to the gas pedal and pulled up alongside his car. She turned her head and
saw the truth.

Joseph drove relaxed in his seat, one arm outstretched to
the steering wheel. Beside him, Linda rested her head against the seatback,
eyes closed and grinning as the wind blew through her hair and sun shined on
her face. Music blared from open windows.

Rose’s throat seized and the world before her became a
tunnel. She gasped for breath, tears streaming from her eyes, her heart
pounding. She locked her brakes and cut the wheel.

Joseph’s eyes met hers for just a moment before metal hit
metal with a sickening blow. Glass shattered and sprayed. The air filled with
the smell of burning rubber. Linda craned to see what was happening as Joseph’s
car veered off the road.

Rose’s car spun and stalled at the side of the road. She
sat twisted in her seat, thrown against the door, unable to stop watching as
the other car broke through the cliff’s guard rail and sailed into the sky.

The Veil

Henry glanced over
at Nikki as they followed Martha into Halfway House, shooting her a questioning
look. Nikki’s shrug and arched eyebrows returned his question. Lysrus wanted to
talk to them? The Mentors wanted them to do something? Their world had just
shifted, definitely. They both understood that much, but that much only. The
rest would have to wait until they came face to face with Lysrus.

As they climbed the stairs, Henry thought back to the
moment when he’d caught sight of Lysrus, who’d appeared next to Martha after
they’d returned from the physical realm. It had only been for a second or two,
but Henry thought he saw a tall, thin figure draped in a white robe.  He saw platinum
hair and golden eyes. He’d felt almost sure he’d seen wings. But Lysrus had
vanished again almost instantly. It had all happened so fast that Henry might
have thought he’d imagined it but he hadn’t been able to forget seeing Lysrus’s
eyes and how different they’d seemed. The word “alien” had kept coming to mind,
although Henry knew the word would have a different meaning in this realm. By
“alien,” he didn’t mean someone from another planet. He meant alien in the
sense of not human. At least, not human in any way he’d experienced before.

Martha stopped at her door and turned to them, her hand
resting on the knob. She offered a smile but her eyes remained serious. “Things
are about to change,” she said. “What I mean is, you might find this experience
a little disorienting.” She looked back and forth between Henry and Nikki.
“Ready?”

Again, Henry and Nikki exchanged glances. Henry brought
his attention back to Martha. “I guess?”

Nikki snorted a laugh and Henry couldn’t help crack a
smile. Obviously, he didn’t sound at all sure.

“What about you, Nikki?” Martha said.

Nikki’s face reddened a little. “Sure. I think so.”

“Fair enough.” Martha opened her door and Henry winced
against the light suddenly filling the hall, nearly blinding him. She turned
their way again. “As I said, things are about to change.”

Martha stepped through the doorway and disappeared into
the light. Henry and Nikki hesitated, their eyes meeting.

“Do you have a feeling about this?” Nikki said.

“Yeah. I get the feeling this is going to be weird.”

A moment later they stood in a space without any evident
boundaries. No floor, no ceiling, no walls. As his eyes adjusted, Henry
realized the light surrounding them wasn’t just white. Behind the glare, he saw
a pulsing spectrum, ranging from light blue to green, then yellow, orange and
red. At the same time, it was like his brain couldn’t process it and, instead,
registered the total effect as being a field of uniform brightness.

“It takes some adjustment,” Martha said. “Don’t worry.”

Henry appreciated her reassurance but he didn’t feel
worried. In fact, just the opposite. For some reason he couldn’t understand, he
felt almost euphoric. He looked up, then down, but neither seemed to matter
since the view was exactly the same, as if he stood suspended weightless in the
air. Again, he recalled the brief encounter with Lysrus, that moment when he’d
at first barely been able to keep looking, his skin tingling, his ears ringing
and his hair lifting as if by electricity. He remembered being surprised by the
calm feeling that had followed the initial shock. He felt the same sense now.

A moment later, the light parted—a flash of even brighter
light behind it—as if a curtain briefly opened and then closed. A figure strode
forward and within seconds stood before them. Henry looked into Lysrus’s eyes
again and those golden eyes gazed back at him.
There
hadn’t been time to notice before but now Henry realized they lacked both
irises and pupils. Lysrus kept shimmering
, flickering like
the light around them or maybe causing the light around
them.
Henry stared at Lysrus’s face but it kept shifting too, flickering
like a strobe light, showing faces of different genders, ages and ethnicities.
The effect was hypnotizing and on one level Henry suspected it could have been
frightening. He didn’t doubt that if he’d encountered a sight like this when he’d
been living in the physical realm, he would have been terrified. Now, though,
he remained fascinated as he remembered what Martha had told them before—that
Mentors manifest all past lives simultaneously.

After a few moments, the strobe effect slowed, then
settled to a stop as Lysrus’s form took on the appearance of a tall, thin man
with shoulder-length platinum hair. His eyes shifted to pale blue. The light
around them stopped pulsing too, becoming consistent, a soft and steady white.

“I sense that you both perceive me as being male,” Lysrus
said. “It’s true that I have been many times.”

Right there, Henry wanted to start asking questions but
decided he should probably wait.

“I suspect it’s also better that I don’t appear to you
displaying the wings you imagined upon our first encounter,” Lysrus said.
“While it’s common for us to be perceived that way, that expression of energy
won’t serve any purpose here.” He gestured to what he wore, the same white
robes Henry had briefly caught sight of the first time. “I also sense that you
perceived me wearing robes. In truth, my current manifestation requires no
fixed physical form. All the same, I’ll appear to you dressed this way.”

Lysrus took another step closer and appraised both Henry
and Nikki before briefly bowing his head and closing his eyes. The gesture,
which stuck Henry as both humble and respectful, surprised him a little. Henry
wasn’t quite sure what Lysrus was, but clearly he’d developed light years past
himself and Nikki on the evolutionary chain—if they even shared the same
evolutionary chain.

Lysrus smiled. His smile also surprised Henry with its
warmth. He seemed so powerful, even magical, but at the same time gave the
impression of being completely approachable. “If you now find my appearance
less unsettling, I’ll manifest for you both this way from now on. Do you think
this will work?”

Henry and Nikki both reacted identically, remaining
momentarily dumbstruck before realizing they’d been asked a direct question.
They both nodded simultaneously.

Lysrus glanced back and forth between them, then smiled
again, more broadly this time as if restraining himself from laughing. “The
fact is, if you were to enter my actual realm, you’d find it entirely
overwhelming. You simply wouldn’t be able to process what you were
experiencing.” Then, as if he’d read Henry’s mind from before, he added, “However,
this place where we can meet”—Lysrus gestured to indicate their
surroundings—“causes a certain feeling of euphoria for those visiting from your
realm. It took Martha a bit of time to adjust too. Wouldn’t you say, Martha?”

Henry had been so entirely focused on Lysrus that he’d
almost forgotten Martha being there. Now, he turned to see that, like Lysrus,
she too seemed slightly amused.

“At first Lysrus kept asking me why I was smiling,”
Martha said. “He took his time explaining to me what he just explained to you.”

Lysrus chuckled. “I enjoyed that, I have to admit.”

“I’ll get you back some time,” Martha said.

Lysrus shook his head. “The event you imagine does not
occur.”

Martha rolled her eyes. “You might be bluffing about my
future.”

Lysrus shrugged. “That’s possible.”

Martha brought her attention back to Henry and Nikki. “I
explained a little before but, to help you understand further, the Mentors have
not existed in the physical realm for a very long time. Nor will they again.
Still, they remain very much involved on behalf of those who pass in and out of
that realm.”

“Are you an angel?” Nikki said.

For just a moment, Lysrus seemed to hesitate. “That word
has certainly been used to describe us. However, it depends on the perspectives
involved. There’s a reason why we limit our interactions with those still
embedded in physical lives. In that realm, we create a dissonance that’s
overwhelming and sometimes quite frightening. Not all who see us perceive us
positively.”

“I realize it can be confusing,” Martha said. “Right now,
what’s important to remember is that one of the things the Mentors do is watch
for those who can’t find a way to successfully cross over.”

“Which is why I asked Martha to introduce us,” Lysrus
said. “When someone doesn’t complete their Transition, quite often it’s due to
fear. Typically, we ask someone dear to them—most often a loved one that has
already crossed over—to help them realize there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’ve heard of that happening,” Nikki said. “People
seeing others they knew reaching out to them. That didn’t happen for me.”

Lysrus nodded, watching her. “Some are more fearful then
others. On the other hand, there’s guilt. Guilt is the most powerful obstacle
of all. Through guilt, a person can become trapped in a delusion so compelling that
they may never escape. Which brings me to my point. I’d like you to assist such
a person, if possible.”

“Assist?” Henry said. “Wouldn’t that be more like what
Martha does? I mean, in Service?”

“Indeed. Martha has kept me informed regarding your
progress here. In particular, she’s described how you’ve dedicated yourselves to
helping others despite great obstacles and a very limited likelihood of success.”

“But it wasn’t just us,” Nikki said. “Our whole group
tried to help.”

“And it wasn’t people who were trapped,” Henry said. “Not
people who’d crossed over or anything like that.”

“Both points are true. Based on what I’ve observed, however,
my feeling is that the two of you are best suited for my request.”

Lysrus swept his hand through the air and the light
behind him parted like a curtain again, this time revealing a scene. Henry saw
a woman sitting in a white convertible, its front end crumpled. Steam swirled
into the air from beneath the damaged hood. After a few moments, the woman got
out of the car. No, not a woman, a girl, he realized. She looked to be maybe
seventeen or eighteen. She had brown hair that fell to her shoulders in wavy
curls. Whoever she was, she held her hands to her face as she stumbled forward,
crying, stopping once to bend at the waist as she gasped for breath.

What they stood watching didn’t seem like an image. To
Henry, it felt like an actual event taking place as the girl crossed the road,
not once looking to see if any cars approached. She moved quickly now, still
keeping her hands to her face. She ran through a gap in the guardrail, its
steel twisted back where it had snapped, the missing piece nowhere to be seen. She
approached the edge of a cliff, apparently unconcerned at the height, stopping
only when she reached the very edge. She looked down, to where a car had
plunged through the air and now sat wedged between boulders, trunk skyward, its
hood and roof crushed.

The girl gasped and Henry saw it too—the blood-soaked,
shattered windows of the car, the slumped forms of what could only be human
bodies.
Get away from the edge
, Henry thought.
Please, whoever you
are, get away from the edge!
Instead, the girl bent at the waist again,
doubled over this time. She let out an ear-piercing wail of horror. Only a few
seconds passed before she let herself drop toward the rocks below. Henry’s
wanted to look away but remained transfixed as she plummeted through the air.
The scene shifted, Henry’s heart still hammering at what he’d just witnessed.
Now, they looked into the interior of a house at night. Even in the darkness,
Henry could tell it was a large house. Arched windows stretched to high
ceilings and moonlight spilled upon marble floors. At the top of a winding
staircase, a figure emerged into the moonlight. It was the same girl, Henry
realized. She descended the steps slowly, her shoes clacking in the night. Her
hands remained pressed to her face, her head lowered as her grieving continued.
She reached the landing, where she dropped to her knees.

Suddenly, three dark figures materialized next to her,
faceless shadows taking human form. They murmured softly, speaking in turn.

“You killed us.”

“How could you, Rose? How could you have killed us?”

“You’re a murderer, Rose. You know where murderers go.”

The girl lowered her hands to her sides and raised her
face to the ceiling. She cried out, her mournful keening a howl in the
darkness.

Upstairs, a sliver of light showed as a bedroom door opened.
Children ran down the hall, crying out for their parents.

The scene shifted again. Sunlight streamed through
windows as the girl walked down the same hall into a large, gleaming kitchen.
Finally, Henry saw her clearly. Sparkling brown eyes and a smattering of
freckles. Curly auburn hair framing her thin face. She opened the French doors
and looked outside to where an elderly woman sat reading a newspaper. It seemed
nearly inconceivable but the girl smiled and said, “Good morning, Grandmother!
Has Joseph called yet?”

 Lysrus swept his hand through the air again. The scene
faded, the curtain of light closing. In their confusion, both Henry and Nikki
looked to Martha. She appeared to have anticipated their reaction.

“Her name was Rose Boland,” Martha said. “She was
eighteen when her life ended. She was the only heir in a wealthy family and
she’d just inherited a great deal of money. Rose was to be married to a young
man named Joseph just days following what you first witnessed when Lysrus
opened the Veil.”

“You mean…when she fell off the cliff,” Nikki said, her
eyes glistening. “That’s terrible!”

“She didn’t fall off,” Lysrus said. “It’s important to
remember that.”

“I’m sorry but it gets worse,” Martha said.
“Unfortunately, the feelings Rose felt for Joseph weren’t mutual. In fact,
Joseph had a dark agenda, his intention being staying married just long enough
to insure that her fortune became his.”