to sit on the side of the bed. “Mom,” she said gently, recognizing that her mother was in a state, probably still half in the vision and half in the real world. She had seen her mother like this a few times before and had learned to deal with it as calmly as possible. Arguing or shouting at her mother would produce no results. “Mom, where do I have to go? What do I have to do?”
“The werewolf boy. He’s driving into a trap. He’s going to die unless you go help him.”
Helen caught her breath. Jim was going to die? If her mother said something so dire, it wasn’t an exaggeration. Her mother was always very particular about the words she chose to express her visions. She wouldn’t make such a pronouncement unless it was absolutely true—as she saw it.
“On a dark beach. An ambush. In roughly twenty-four hours.” Helen noticed her mother was looking at her now, coming more out of the vision as time passed. “You have time to get there and be ready, if you go as soon as you can. He will be hurt. There’s nothing that can stop that, but you can save him. You can heal him and let the enemy think he’s out of play. Then, the two of you, working together, can turn the tables on the enemy.”
“Me? I’m no soldier,” Helen protested. She could do the first part, of course. She could save Jim’s life. But helping him fight the enemy? No way. She was a healer, not a fighter.
“You have all that you need to help him do what’s right,” her mother insisted. “Just don’t let him leave you behind. You must go with him, when he leaves the beach.”
Helen was confused but knew enough not to argue. She would go to…wherever her mother wanted her to go. Possibly Virginia Beach? Jim and Martin had talked about that location before they’d all parted. Helen knew she would be able to pin down the location better in a few minutes, when her mother was ready to answer questions about details in her vision. Landmarks would help them figure out exactly where Helen needed to be.
*
Helen followed her mother’s instructions to the letter. She’d learned long ago, not to argue when it came to her mother’s visions. Loading up her car with spare clothing from her brothers, medical supplies, towels, wipes and whatever else she could think of that she might need, including a cooler full of prepared food and bottles of water, she headed out at first light.
She made a few stops to get gas, use the facilities and stretch her legs, but other than that, there was only one thing her mother had demanded she do. That little task was the oddest of the odd things Helen had done that day, but she didn’t question. She merely stopped at the fireworks store near the state border and picked up an armful of some of the larger fireworks—particularly the ones that were on sticks and could be sort of aimed.
When her mother had suggested rather strongly that she pick up a large number of those, Helen had begun to understand what her mother had in mind. She didn’t come out and explain every step of what might happen, because that could alter events in a bad way. However, she had made suggestions that Helen had learned to read, over the years, and Helen would be very much surprised if she didn’t end up aiming the fireworks she’d purchased at someone or something later that night. She’d been sure to get a long-necked lighter, as well. And a backup. Just in case.
She wasn’t a big fan of fireworks, generally, but she would use them if she had to.
When she pulled in to Virginia Beach, it was nearing dusk. Using the first bits of twilight, she trolled up and down the famous strip, searching the parking lots for Jim’s pickup. She was about to give up when she spotted it, at the very end of the strip, in the parking lot of the last high-rise hotel. Pulling into that lot as night began to fall in earnest, she decided to book a room in the hotel. She was tired, and according to her mother, the attack wouldn’t come until much later.
Helen wanted to clean up a bit and refresh herself before the work of the night. Luckily, it was off season, so she was able to get a beach-front room for a