Thank God! Her new spirit friend had found Jackson.
“That’s my husband, please let him in—he can get my kit for me,” Angela told David.
“Right, right, of course!” David said. He turned away, hurried to the door. By that point, Angela had managed to assure Cindy she was there to help her. They just had to be careful since she was about to give birth.
In minutes.
Cindy realized her danger and was immediately ready to listen to anything that Angela had to say. “I must have sterilized scissors and create clamps somehow for the birth cords, but first . . .”
“Angela!” Jackson cried. “I’ve got it—we’re good!”
He had the gun! He’d walked in and gotten David’s gun so quickly.
“But he’s on the run. I’m going—”
“No! Water! Boil water. I need clamps, sterilized scissors!”
To her amazement, Jackson hurried in with a birth kit that might have done a real midwife proud. Clamps, scissors, a blanket, a basin . . .
“I’ve got to go!” Jackson told her. “He’s . . . crazy. A danger to himself and a danger to others.”
“But you’re got his gun—”
“And he’s still got a giant knife. I’ve got to get him before he gets into someone’s house—hurts someone, or—”
She hadn’t seen that the spirit of Ray Cummings was behind him.
“You promised!” he cried. “You promised that David wouldn’t be hurt!”
“And he won’t be!” Jackson vowed.
Jackson stared at Angela, a question in his eyes.
“I’m fine. You’ve dialed—”
“Nine-one-one, yes! On the way.”
“Go!”
She’d already made sure Cindy was in position.
Thankfully, thankfully!
The head was crowning.
The baby wasn’t waiting for anyone.
*
Jackson
David had run out back and then had a decent lead on Jackson. He didn’t really understand what had happened. He’d cheerfully identified himself as Angela’s husband, but when he he’d started to follow the man, David had suddenly spun around and started screaming that no one was taking his wife and child. But then Jackson had training that a man in David’s position had never had access to. It was possible to slam his arm down before the man had more than reached for gun in its holster at his waist, forcing him to gasp and release the weapon.
Then he’d stared at Jackson in mass confusion and shouted, “No . . . no . . . kill me, you can’t take her . . . wait, wait . . .” And then, “Oh, God!”
There had been a look of amazement and dismay on his face.
Had a moment of reality sunk in? Jackson couldn’t be sure, but Angela was calling out for help. And while he’d hoped to have a conversation, the man sped by him in seconds flat to escape out the back, as he’d hurried to Angela.
