"Yeah," Jonas said, "I thought the same thing for a little while there."

Starch left it at that. The rest of the day went pretty much like any other day, except Jonas had to answer for his renewed health. n.o.body questioned it really. Hermione said it must be her tea that was the ultimate cure. I only rolled my eyes when she wasn't looking. The worry left the house and everything was okay. It was over quickly and it really was that simple.

Though everyone was kinda p.i.s.sed when I commandeered the remote control and took over the TV for the night. Cadence did what she always did; she retreated to her room with a book; she almost hates TV with an ultimate pa.s.sion. Pete and Patty tolerated my flipping channels for a while. Starch, still holding onto his confusion, but not voicing it, went to bed early. Philip, who returned from his business trip to find everything in chaos, relished the quiet that settled over the household since Jonas's seemingly miraculous (there's that word again) recovery. Philip was sitting in the kitchen eating a late dinner with Alendra, who liked her steak as raw as she could get it. Humbolt and Hermione vanished into their usual domain.

Jonas alone knew what I was looking for on the television.

I did not see Christian again. Not for a long time. Not after a lot had happened. I continued to channel surf until I fell asleep. Jonas carried me off to bed and slept beside me. Waking in his arms gave me just about the greatest feeling I'd ever had- next to being kissed by him for the first time and every other time he kissed me after that. It was still late, and I lay awake for a long time, running my finger along the line of his hard jaw, tracing the path of his scaled skin. G.o.ds, I never knew I could love someone so much.

While I lay awake, dawn very far away, I heard her calling me again. That was a call I knew I could not deny, so I went outside to a private conversation with my new friend, Alendra.

Chapter Nineteen.

She sat outside on the ridge overlooking the Commune, the place where Jonas and I so loved to sit, only because there was a big, flat rock up there to sit on. In the dark, barefoot and not worried about thorns or cactus needles digging into my feet, I climbed up the side of the hill, guided only by the dim light of the waning moon. She was wolf, and she sat on her haunches, staring out at the desert beyond with her back to the Commune. Her tail once again swished the ground.

Her first question caught me off guard. "Do you have faith, Christiana?"

"In what?" I asked, having no idea how I should answer this.

"In anything," she said. "In yourself? In others? In humanity?"

I thought about it for a moment, but there was only one way I could answer. "I don't think so."

Her wolf eyes met mine. "Not even in yourself?"

I shook my head, feeling honesty was best. "Never have," I told her.

She angled her head, looking at me sideways then turned her attention back to the desert. "You can read minds, Chris. You know the truth about people. You can know the truth about everyone. And yet you have no faith? I know you don't believe in G.o.d, but you must believe in something."

I looked at her even though her eyes were focused elsewhere. "Alendra, how much did you read from my mind?"

"Not enough," she said. "And I won't pry now. I was just curious."

"Well," I said, "what about you? What do you have faith in?"

"I, at least, have faith in myself."

I smiled wanly as her eyes darted my way. "People died because of me," I said, my voice a whisper in my own head. "I've killed people, Alendra."

"I don't believe you," was her instant answer.

"You know I'm not lying," I said. "I have no faith because of the things I've seen. Because of the things I've done and because of the things that have been done to me. Like you, I may not remember being used as an experiment, but I know it happened. I know what people are capable of. I've watched reasonable men shoot down innocent children. I have no faith in people."

Alendra was silent, her eyes once more on the dark world. She didn't question my words, though I know they plagued her. Instead, she said, "I haven't seen what you've seen. I at least know myself well enough to have faith in myself. You should, too. I have faith in you." When her lupine head turned towards me, I was too stunned in silence to speak. "You are extraordinary. Whether you believe that or not, no one on this planet can do what you can do."

"How do you know that?" I asked. "There could be hundreds of people out there like me."

"Then you wouldn't be so afraid about being hunted," she said.

She had me there. There would be no reason to hunt me down if there were others like me. I was wanted, because of what I can do. I knew that. I'd lost my father to this reasoning. Alendra was right, and she knew it.

We said very little more as the night wore into the dawn. We spoke of unimportant things. I thought more and more about what she said. She had faith in me? Of all people? I didn't understand. Someday though, I would.

Chapter Twenty.

Things happened rather fast after my night talk with Alendra. First off, Philip, my saviour, got a big job out in Los Angeles and was going to be leaving us. Philip, in ways I didn't quite understand, provided for all of us. While some of the normal folks, meaning Pete, Patty, and the others who did not look different from any other human being, worked part-time or like Cadence full-time positions, others not at all, like myself. Then there was Jonas, who fixed up whatever junked cars Philip brought home and then resold them. I didn't work. I was too afraid of what would happen.

Anyway, saying goodbye to Philip I found to be very difficult for me, even though I knew he wouldn't be gone forever. I called him my saviour because he brought me away from a life of misery after my coma and took me to a place I now called home. He cared about me, even loved me to a degree. As he let on to me when he left, he loved someone else, too.

There were many things I didn't know about Philip at the time, at least up until he left. He was almost leading a double life. A lawyer for some big firm in Los Angeles, he drove out there three or four days a week, sometimes staying overnight in hotels, and coming back to the Commune. Well, over the past couple of years, even before I came to the Commune, Philip met a girl, a girl he fell in love with. He didn't tell anyone about her. He felt it easier to tell everyone that his new job required him to be in the city. I didn't blame him for keeping this secret. The others would think he abandoned them for some girl. I knew better. Philip, just like all the rest of us, wanted a normal life. He felt like he could have it with this woman.

"I won't be far," Philip said. He held me at arms' length, having left me as his last goodbye.

"A few miles is too far," I said.

"You're the strongest of us all," he told me. "You'll be fine."

"Guess I'll have to go out and get a job, work to support myself now."

He laughed. "Well, you won't have to work full time, or at all, but if you want to, feel free."

"It'll keep me occupied, anyway."

He grinned, his pointed canines showing. "I'm just a phone call away."

"I know," I said. "You better go."

He nodded and bent to kiss my cheek. "Take care, Christiana."

"You too. Drive safe." In his ear, I whispered, "I'm sure she's beautiful."

Since he knew I knew, Philip only smiled softly. "See you soon," he told me. Then he got in his old bug and drove away. It would be a long time after soon that I would see him again.

It was simple and fast. That was life at the Commune. Before I knew it, Philip was gone, and we were left alone. I stayed outside until long after the dust settled behind him.

"You gonna stay out here all day?"

I didn't turn but I knew Jonas stood right beside me. "I might, yeah," I said.

Jonas moved closer to me and planted a kiss on my temple. "He'll come back. I've been here long enough to know. He's left before. He always comes back."

"Not this time," I said. "This time's for keeps." I turned my head upwards to see his eyes.

"He'll come back," Jonas said, his voice rea.s.suring. "Even if just for a visit. Besides, now I've got the truck running so we can visit him."

"You'd take me out there? If I asked?"

"Of course. All you have to do is ask, and I'll do anything."

I gave him my best smile. He put his arms around me and held me close. When I couldn't get in a good breath I said, "Oxygen is important, love."

"Sorry," he said, releasing me, but only slightly. "You're just too small."

I snorted at him. "Ever stop to think that you're too big?"

"Now what do we do?" he asked.

"I think I will get a job."

Jonas raised an eyebrow ridge. "You? A job?"

"Yeah," I said, giving him a light slap on the arm in response to his sarcasm. "Me. I'll get a job. Wanna help me?"

Jonas put his hand to his chin in thought. "I already have a plan." He swept me into his arms and devoured me on the spot.

"Hhm," I said when he let me go. "Does your plan involve nudity?"

"No," he said.

"Then I don't want to hear it."

He told me anyway.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Jonas's plan. It led to so much. I should have never listened or agreed. I should have known what would happen. It was obvious. Except it wasn't, not to me anyway. I doubt even Jonas really thought it good idea. Of course, he had no idea how much trouble a girl like me can really get into, when left to my own devices.

So I got a job at the hospital forty-five minutes away in Las Vegas, Nevada. Using a fake address, the one on my fake ID, given me long ago by Philip, and a little manipulation of the mind to make myself seem somewhat desirable as an employee, I was able to get a position at the hospital cafeteria as a food server. I delivered food to the patients' rooms, which meant I interacted with a whole bunch of sick and injured people. Yeah, Jonas, really good idea. I'd be able to keep my hands off the dying. Dingos will come racing out of my b.u.t.t. Pink ones. With guitars.

I'll tell ya, at the end of the first day I had a splitting headache, probably stress induced. I walked in and out of rooms, followed by the woman training me, and her name was Bertha and I ain't kidding. I gave food to cancer patients, to people with broken bones. I helped an old man open a small carton of milk because his arthritis was so bad. So many things I could fix and yet I did nothing. It was hard, so hard in fact I gave myself a headache.

Modern medicine is certainly not very modern. Nor are humans very humane. Many of the patients were alone in their rooms and had very few, if any, visitors. Some people had just been left to die on their own, and not by choice like my father. I hated humanity as I walked out the front doors of the hospital. I hated the way they treated each other, as if other human beings didn't matter in the slightest. I almost hated Jonas for telling me this good idea.

Jonas was waiting for me in the parking lot when I got off the first day, at just after two o'clock. He wore sungla.s.ses and a hooded sweatshirt to cover his face so no one walking by would see the abnormalities of his skin. When I got in the truck- his now precious white pickup that he swore he'd never get rid of- he took off his sungla.s.ses and gave me a long, hard look.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Just a headache," I said, having long since learned there was no reason to lie to him.

"How was it?"

"h.e.l.l," I said. "Can we go?"

"I'm sorry, Chris. I just thought-"

I put up my hand and gave him a light smile. "I know what you thought. And I could have. I could have spent the whole day healing. You know, doing what I was made to do. I didn't. I couldn't possibly out myself like that. Someone would have noticed. Someone would have seen. Who the h.e.l.l knows if I would have been able to walk away or simply pa.s.sed out."

Jonas reached over and took my hand while starting the truck with the other. "There are plenty of other jobs out there, love." He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

I knew he had only been trying to do good. He knew I could heal all of those people. He didn't know I couldn't bring myself to heal them. Not because of the fact that I might collapse after a healing finished.

Because of who might come knocking at the Commune door.

I however couldn't help myself.

As Jonas drove me home, I made a vow. I'd quit the job. One person and only one would benefit from my having been in that hospital. One person and only one would feel the healing touch of my hand.

I picked a number. I couldn't have picked a worse number, but I picked at random and that's how it ended up. I picked 606. I would go into the room and the lucky person from my random lottery would be healed by my hands. Since I'm a good manipulator, that person would never know I had been there. I wasn't expecting a hard heal, like a cancer patient or a dying man. I was expecting something simple. Of course, as you may have figured out, nothing is ever as I expected.

Chapter Twenty-Two.

I wrote, in one of the other versions of this story (the fictional version written during yet another three-year-stint, this time as an amnesiac which I will explain later, if I find I have the time and s.p.a.ce), I first saw this girl on the television. I saw her on TV after the fact, after I entered her room the next day, after meeting a cab at the gas station near the highway, after walking the miles of dirt road alone in the early hours of the morning. I snuck out at just before dawn and called a cab from the gas station on Cima Road. The cabbie met me there and dropped me off at the Vegas Memorial Hospital. I stepped through the doorway, said h.e.l.lo to the girl at the reception desk. Then I went down the appropriate hallway and found my way to 606.

She was six-years-old, nearly seven, but she would not live to see her next birthday. Not unless I did something about it.

Her name was Sarai, after the biblical character who was supposedly the niece of Abraham. She didn't know that. Her parents, strict Christians, would have told her eventually, given the time. Sarai was dying of a malignant brain tumor. She would be dead within the week. Her parents were in the room, praying over their daughter's weakening body. Judging her condition by using the powers within my own mind, I knew I could not do it alone.

There was a pay phone outside. I'm not one for carrying a cell, though eventually I did get one years down the line. I went downstairs, pulled a couple of quarters from my pocket and dialed the Commune phone number. Yes, the Commune had a phone with an unlisted number, and Philip took care of all the bills and did what could be done to keep the number an absolute secret. Caller ID is a wonderful thing, so no one at the Commune answered the phone without knowing the number calling. Lucky for me, I had the foresight to write down the pay phone number to give to Jonas and the rest of the household, just in case I needed something while at work so I knew to call from this phone. Anyway, I called the number and Starch answered. I told him to hand the phone over to Jonas, who was already freaked out, because I'd gone missing.

"Where are you?"

I smiled at the worried tone in his voice. "I'm in Vegas at the hospital."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "What are you doing there? I thought you quit? How'd you get there anyway?"