The Thrice Born Read online

  He pulled his arm better over her as the rain fell harder, covering her shoulders better under the jacket. She huddled closer, still intent on the bracelet despite the rain.

  “This is a psychotronic,” she said, not giving him time to inquire about the technology. “It is against my beliefs to wear it, yet I did it to prolong my stay here. I have fought to stay here, Jason,” she said, her eyes imploring him to understand. “But my body is too strong. Soon it will ascend.”

  He frowned. “What are you saying, Estelle? I don’t understand.”

  She smiled, one hand going to the roundness of her belly. “The child is important. Please try and understand, Jason. The child is paramount.”

  He didn’t like this turn of the conversation, the implication of her words. “When is this, this ascend-thing going to happen?”

  Her fingers tightened over her stomach, a look of contained pain now leasing her smile. “Soon, Jason. Quite soon.” She gave a tight sigh. “Very...soon.” Her hand slipped from his arm and she knelt on the wet sidewalk.

  He crouched with her, his hand on her shoulder as he tried to keep her under his coat. “What’s wrong?”

  She made a guttural sound, and then closed her eyes, moving her sandals. “My water broke!”

  Before he could stop her, she slumped to one side.

  He caught her as best he could, trying to protect her from the rain, the pond, the impending birth even.

  “My contractions are beginning,” she said in a strained voice, her breath now quick, nearly panting. “Oh, Jason, it hurts...Oh, my God...”

  He didn’t wait this time, but picked her up bridal-style and hurried her to the car.

  He gently put her in the passenger seat, her breathing now moans, her eyes closed in concentration as she wrapped both arms around her stomach. He took off his jacket and laid it over her and then got in the driver’s side.

  He started the car, twisting the windshield wipers on to the high setting as the rain now thickened around them, steaming up the windows.

  “Not yet,” Estelle said through her short panting. “Under my seat.”

  He bent and felt under her seat, and pulled out two long sheepskin packages. He only had to pull back the edge of one to see what was tied inside.

  “Take them wherever you go,” she said. “Promise me, Jason. One is for you and one...” She paused, waiting out a long contraction as he helplessly watched the pain grow across her face. “And one is for the child. Don’t ever let it out of your sight.”

  “I promise,” he said, kissing the top of her head as she bowed in the seat.

  “There’s a duffle in the back seat,” she said. “Tell them it’s ...it’s my clothes at the hospital.” She closed her eyes. “You must bring it with us.”

  “I will.”

  Shaking, he fumbled to pull the car out of the parking spot and drove hastily from the park.

  He called ahead on his cell phone to the hospital, but was nearly there by the time he’d ended the call. He barely parked at the Emergency entrance, stuffed a wrapped sword into the duffle bag and dashed out of the car. He whisked Estelle from the passenger seat, and carried her through the automatic doors, the bag under the crook of his arm.

  Two nurses and an EMT technician rushed to them inside the doors, pulling a stretcher.

  “Newhart?” the tech asked, already helping to position Estelle on the gurney.

  “Yes.” Jason pulled her skirt lower as the other nurse lifted the side of the gurney.

  “Single birth?” the tech asked.

  “Her water broke,” he added, nodding.

  The older of the two nurses smiled at him. “Yes, Mr. Newhart. You have a birthing suite?”

  He nodded rapidly, his mind a flurry of thoughts. “Yes, yes, but I forgot the room.”

  The tech turned to the inhouse two-way radio attached to his collar. “I have a female Newhart, in transit for delivery,” he said into it. “I need the birthing suite number and the OB on call stat.”

  Jason was barely aware of the professional activity around him as the nurse and tech wheeled the gurney and Estelle down the corridor through the main level and into the maternity ward.

  He put a hand on Estelle’s side as she fought the contractions making her writhe. “You’re going to be okay,” he murmured in her hear, brushing her hair from her face.

  She barely nodded, eyes still shut. “My bag,” she said through clenched teeth. “My overnight bag, Jason. In the car...”

  He knew what she was talking about; Estelle had brought no bag.

  He lifted his hand, hoping not to draw any attention. “I’ve got everything you need, darling.”

  “That must be a big baby,” the tech said, smiling as they reached the hall of birthing suites. “A healthy baby.”

  The lights flickered overhead and Jason realized the rain outside had developed into a storm. He looked down the hall at the only window there. It was a tall window, showing the outside trees swaying in the growing wind.

  The lights grew brighter, and a nurse patted Estelle’s hand. “Don’t worry, honey. We’re powered; generators, and all. Dr. Morton is on call. He’s a good baby doctor. Don’t you worry.”

  Jason was oblivious to most of the commotion around him, conscious only of Estelle on the stretcher as she was wheeled to the room they’d reserved for the birth.

  “...must be one hell of a baby,” he heard one of the staff around him say, followed by a few other voices in agreement.

  Jason held Estelle’s warm hand, her grip fierce on his as her face contorted in pain. “You’ll be fine, darling,” he murmured to her, hoping it to be true.

  They had had no classes, no instruction for the birthing process; Estelle’s due date wasn’t for another six weeks. They had classes scheduled in two weeks, but aside from a few magazine articles in Mothering Monthly, he wasn’t aware of any preparation Estelle could possibly have had in advance.

  It was normal. Women had babies every day. Lots of babies. Lots of days, for years, centuries even.

  But this was no normal baby, he knew. He’d seen the medical reports.

  A nurse in scrubs caught up to them as the stretcher was wheeled into Room 318. “I’m Jane,” she said, giving them a practiced if tired smile. She looked to Jason and then Estelle. “How are we all? Daddy? Mom? Your doctor will be in soon and we’ll get your child happily into your arms real quick.”

  “I’m Jason,” he said needlessly as the other staff members began pulling the curtains at the top rails around the focal point of the room, a sectional bed with a stool at the foot of it. “This is Estelle.”

  Jane nodded, and then consulted a chart she held. “Vitals are good from your last check-up, you have a, well, a large baby.” She turned to one of the other nurses and gave her muted instructions for a moment as Jason tried to listen in. Jane turned back to him. “Okay, Daddy. Your job is to keep Mom breathing and pushing when Dr. Morton tells you to.”

  Jason nodded, feeling himself pale, but tried to smile.

  Jane hooked the chart on the I.V. stand, another nurse positioned beside Estelle. “We’re going to move you to the birthing bed, Mom, so just let us do our job and you can get comfy.”

  It took a few minutes for the staff to help Estelle onto the bed and make the usual arrangements for a delivery. An I.V. was hooked up to her arm and taped, a clear drip of liquid feeding into it from the plastic bag on the stand. Outside the storm was growing in ferocity, and the high, wide window behind Estelle’s bed showed the rain splattering angrily against the pane.

  The lights flickered a few times, but Jane assured Jason the hospital was on full generator back-up and there was nothing to worry about.

  Jason figured nurses said that a lot: Nothing to worry about. He didn’t believe it, not entirely, but at the moment he had little choice.

  Estelle leaned to the side rail of the bed during a moment when the staff was finishing their set-ups. Jason bent his head to her.

  “
Save your strength, darling.” He lightly kissed her forehead. “You’ll be fine.”

  She panted an exhale. “Do you have the package?”

  “Overnight bag.”

  She nodded.

  He nodded to the corner where the bag with the sheepskin packages looked a little out of place for a maternity overnight bag, but the hospital personnel were too busy to question it.

  “Please, Jason,” she said in a desperate whisper. “Give it to our son, when he’s older, darling.”

  He didn’t like the finality of her words. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

  “No, but you may need it.”

  Dr. Morton entered the room and smiled at them, and was immediately taken into a quick briefing by Jane. The doctor listened, nodding steadily as he looked at Estelle.

  He turned to them and introduced himself hastily, and then pulled the stool over to the bottom of Estelle’s bed. “You have a large baby, Mrs. Newhart. I’m going to do a cervical exam and then we’ll get this baby delivered.”

  An unreal feeling washed over Jason in the next few moments. The doctor did his exam, pronounced the baby as crowning, and then the lights flickered to half illumination. Around him there was a frantic call for generators and lights, voices rising above the storm outside, and all the while Dr. Morton was sitting between Estelle’s legs now in the bed stirrups, working below the sheet pulled over her large abdomen.

  Jason followed Jane and the doctor’s orders, holding Estelle’s hand, counting and reminding her to breathe and push, the limited power of the hospital taxing the monitors until they ceased functioning altogether.

  He was aware of another sound, a growing flapping sound at the window above the rain, like a flag beating against the glass. The doctor noticed it too.

  “Is there something caught at the window?” He kept his eyes on his work, murmuring encouragement to Estelle as a strong contraction rose inside her. “It’s enormously distracting.”

  Jason felt Estelle’s hand lock harder on his. “Just concentrate on our child,” he told her. “Don’t worry.”

  She nodded, eyes closing as she grimaced and bore down.

  Suddenly the room darkened more, with only an emergency light on one stand near the non-functioning monitors now adding any illumination.

  “Get me more light,” the doctor said tightly. “Stat, people!”

  In response, one of the nurses screamed.

  All eyes went to her, and then to the window.

  There plastered to the glass was a Nephilim, mouth open in a scream, hands clawing at pane.

  The nurse who screamed tried to rush from the room, but Jane stopped her. “Your doctor needs you! Use your senses, woman!”

  For a moment the staff all looked to the window, and then a flicker of the lights brought them back to their duties.

  “I want every one of you to focus,” Dr. Morton demanded, attention still on Estelle and the child. “This woman is about to deliver.”

  “Outside –” the nurse began.

  “Nonsense,” snapped Dr. Morton, ignoring the obvious as a flash of lightning illuminated the Nephilim still screeching at them. “It’s very dark. You can’t see anything out there.” He turned to Jason. “You’ve taken Lamaze classes, right?”

  In the dark, Jane leaned to Jason. “If you have not, Mr. Newhart, you will have to leave the room at this point.”

  Jason detected the unsaid hint in her tone. He nodded to the doctor.

  “Good. Please stand at your wife’s head and repeat any mantras or special encouragements you’ve practiced.”

  Jason felt another part of his intellect fall away, wishing they’d taken the childbirth courses earlier, that he’d read the books we wanted to when he thought he should have.

  Instead he took Estelle’s hand tighter, feeling her fingers clutch his to the breaking point.

  The lights suddenly blinked, and then continued to flash, dark and light intermissions in a rhythm that made the room take on a bizarre, mesmerizing quality. Estelle moaned and stifled a scream.

  “I can barely see,” Dr. Morton muttered, leaning further down to his work. “Stabilize the lights!”

  From the pulsating darkness came Jane’s voice. “We’re doing the best we can, Doctor. The whole floor is the same. We’re on back-up power now.”

  Suddenly, from beneath the sheets came another light, this one with a softer glow that seemed to emanate from deep inside Estelle. A quiet fell over the room, the storm still roaring in fury.

  And now there were more Nephilim with the first at the window, their frantic clawing ignored by the hospital staff and Jason.

  “Breathe,” he said to Estelle, feeling her nod against his cheek as he bolstered his arm around her shoulders.

  “Damn it,” said the doctor, his face taking on odd shadows in the flashing light from under the sheet. “It’s like strobe light. Can you stop it?” No one knew who he directed that question to and he got no answer. “I need steady pushing now, Estelle.”

  She gave a tremendous grunt, and then there was dark as the lights failed. The only glow came from her stomach, allowing the doctor to, in an almost trance-like focus, maneuver the baby’s head now pushing through the birth canal and into the world.

  Suddenly a crash of glass erupted and the storm grew louder, the wind swirling through the room. Nurses cried out in the dark, stumbling and low curses lost in the howl of wind.

  “The package! Quickly, Jason!” Estelle cried. “Now!”

  He sprang to the duffle bag and opened it, wrenching out a sheepskin package and pulling off the covering. No one stopped him, the staff in their own frenzy of fright and dark, the doctor concentrating on the odd pulsing of light now seeming to come from Estelle’s interior.

  A foul smell filled the room and a seething hiss joined the cries of the staff. Jason knew what it was, knew those sounds. He went to Estelle’s side, trying to block her from the view of the invading Nephilim.

  “They want our child,” Estelle said in a strangely controlled yet weary voice to him. “They’re weak now, Jason, my only love. “Protect us.”

  It should have been too much to ask, with the doctor working silently as he eased the baby’s shoulders from between Estelle’s pelvic bone and the nurses abandoning the room in confusion and fear.

  Jason nodded, knowing Estelle saw the movement.

  “There’s more blood than...” Dr. Morton’s words halted. “Oh, my God...I think the cord is wrapped around the baby’s neck.” He cleared his throat, Jane now at his side, the only remaining of his staff. “Estelle, I’m going to push the baby back a few inches to move the cord; don’t push against me.”

  Estelle nodded, and then gave an anguished cry as he proceeded to free the baby of the umbilical cord’s confines.

  Jason leaned to Estelle. “Why do they want our child?”

  She licked her dry lips, eyes half closed. Her body suddenly began to fade, becoming translucent with the last of her strength.

  A screech beside Jason made him turn. A Nephilim lowered its ungainly, evil head at him, one hand raised.

  Jason stepped back and brought the sword up, blocking the creature’s strike as it reached for Estelle. He backhanded it into a stagger across the room, and then wrapped his finger around the trigger beneath the cross-guard.

  The creature squawked and drew a sword blaster of its own, the motion half hidden in the dark of the room. Jason caught the first blow and beat it back, knocking over the I.V. stand that clattered to the floor. Estelle made no sound as the tube hose ripped from her arm, and Jason angrily took hasty aim the creature, pressing the trigger.

  A brief burst of fire blew from the top jet, hitting the creature in the stomach. It fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Jason raised his blade as three large shadows shifted in the room, swords glinting in the pulsing light as they each took vicious swings at him.

  He caught them all, mostly from reflexes he’d practiced with other swords, but some out of despera
tion. Two of the creatures fell to his strikes, and the other let off a burst of fire that burnt a hole in his shoulder.

  He slashed back, driving the creature to the opposite wall and impaling it through the neck. It grasped at the wound as the sword retracted, falling and flinching in agony.

  Jason turned to see a different angle of Estelle delivering. The doctor now sat forward, his hand to the wrist inside her transparent body, the baby halfway from the womb in the birth canal with the cord still around its neck.

  In what seemed slow motion to Jason he saw through his wife’s skin, saw the doctor use one finger to slip the cord from around the large baby’s neck and ease the child out through the flesh. The skin was unbroken, as if the doctor had compromised every known principle of physics of entry and retrieved the child without puncture.

  The doctor could not believe it. “Did you see that?”

  From somewhere in the dark and strobing light, Jane’s voice answered. “You couldn’t have really done that.”

  Dr. Morton held the large child, turning it as the blue tone to its face faded to a livelier pink-red. “It’s a boy!”

  Jason smiled at the triumphant proclamation, looking to Estelle. The stirrups blocked part of his view of her, the bed appearing suddenly extremely flat in the occasional flash of the overhead lights.

  “A boy, darling,” he said, stepping to the side of the bed.

  He was greeted by a bloody sheet, the bed empty.

  A stunted baby cry came from the dark.

  Jason made himself think, one hand on the bed. It was still warm, but there was no sign of Estelle.

  “Estelle,” he said lowly.

  “You have a son, Mr. Newhart,” the doctor said.

  Jason ran his hand over the sheet, feeling the warmth of where she’d lain, the blood she’d lost.

  He had lost her again.

  “Estelle!” He didn’t wait to sort through why he thought he’d lost her again. He turned to the window as a horde of Nephilim wailed from outside. “Estelle!”

  “Mr. Newhart...?” It was Jane’s voice. “Oh, my God... Mrs. Newhart?”

  Jason’s hand closed on the sheet, a large handful clutching until the bloody sheet was knotted. “Estelle!”