Chapter Three
“All I know is there’s a kid somewhere who is either being bullied to the point of snapping or is already there, and she’ll soon have a gun to help her even out the odds.” She shook her head as Rodney helped her completely stand. She was shaky at first, but this wasn’t her first rodeo, and she soon had her long legs firmly beneath her. “Her school has some sort of sea animal motif on the wall. And… that’s all I know.”
She was disturbed about this last vision on more than one level. Not only was it horrific in the extreme, it was familiar to her, for personal reasons. Plus, she’d nearly died again just having the vision. She’d had four premonitions in that damn pool so far. Granted, she’d been in it more than a hundred times. Still, an extra four percent added to possible death while swimming was an extra four percent. Rodney was probably right. She really should get rid of the thing.
The pool was one of the few ways she was able to get in her exercise. One rescue mission too many had landed her with injuries, and she was only human. Impact cardio like running was impossible. It was difficult enough just to walk some days, the bad days, and she was already on meds for chronic pain. She couldn’t function without them.
Later, she told herself, shaking her head in a mixture of self-disgust that stemmed from more than her injuries. She would figure this shit out later. Right now, there was a soul to save. “See if there are any high schools with….” She tried to focus on the image on the wall in her premonition. “Maybe a sea lion or a seal or, I don’t know. Honestly, it looked like a combination between one of those and a mermaid.” She was repulsed. This had never happened to her before.
She walked briskly back into the massive mansion with Rodney at her side, his hand at her back just in case. As she walked, she went over the details of her vision with him, hoping that if new ears heard it, new eyes would see it, and that could only be a good thing at this point.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Rodney said, hesitantly leaving her side to head to the first floor hall. “You okay on your own?”
She nodded and turned toward the first step of the large winding marble stairwell that led to the second floor and the other wings of her enormous mansion.
And that was when her second premonition struck.
The luxurious surroundings of her mansion faded into the mist of a vision, and then warped into their exact opposites. Instead of plush rugs, polished marble, and tasteful décor, she was surrounded by trash bins, graffiti, and garbage.
She stood at the center of the alley and, for the second time in the same hour, she watched helplessly as horror unfolded. At the other end of the alley, two men – no, they were boys – began using pocket knives to slowly cut off the ears of a young dog they’d tied to the wall. The dog was so small, and clearly in immense amounts of pain. But it must have been drugged into subservience, for it only whined and tried to duck its head as the cruelty took place.
Adelaide watched the rest of the vision like the prisoner she was, helplessly taking note of the boys’ ghastly task as they smiled and laughed and were filmed by someone close by. She heard the sounds, the whimpers, and willed the scene to end. Her mind felt like it was bruised, beaten and traumatized by the shocks of what it had been forced to witness over the last hour.
Blessedly, Adelaide felt herself being drawn once again into reality, and the vision around her receded, growing blurry and dim. This time, she’d managed to come through the vision unscathed. She always stayed on her feet when a premonition struck while she was standing; she had no idea why. But it was a lucky thing, because she’d have become a walking zombie by now otherwise. The concussions she would have sustained through repeated head-banging falls would have seen to that.
Rodney was beside her again. He was good at his job. “What was it this time?” he asked softly. “Same thing? The school?”
She shook her head. “No.” Unlike the last vision, this time she knew that what she’d witnessed was going to happen soon. Very soon. And she had much more to go on. Most of the time, her visions concerned humans, but once in a while a non-human slipped in with the warnings of things that hadn’t yet happened but could – if she didn’t stop them.
“We don’t have much time,” she said.
“How much do we have?”
“A few hours maybe,” she said. “This one was way too clear. It’s just around the corner.” By just around the corner, she meant time-wise. The clearer the vision, the sooner it would occur. If she wanted to save the dog, she needed to act now.
She concentrated on the details of the vision. They flashed before her eyes in almost the exact same way that images flashed before Shawn Spencer’s eyes in the television program, Psych. So much so, that when the show had first come out, she’d had the surreal impression someone was making a show about her.
Addie concentrated. Rubble… mold… wet concrete… crack in the wall of the building… rusted chain attached to a pipe sticking out of the ground… street sign….
Street sign!
She closed her eyes. A blurred bunch of letters swam through her mind. She honed in on it. A “T” became clear. Then three more letters. Then another “t,” this one lower-case. An “l” and an “e.”
Her eyes flew open. “The name of the street is Thistle. They’re somewhere that it rains a lot; everything was rusted, and there was mold in the corners of the sidewalks. The criminals were Caucasian and dressed for warmth.” It was May, so the location was most likely somewhere north, probably on the coast where it was wetter, and in a less desirable neighborhood. “Search for a Thistle street in a sketchy neighborhood in Seattle and its surrounding areas,” she told Rodney. “I’ll do San Francisco and Portland.” She only prayed the vision hadn’t taken place in Canada. So far none of them had, though. Her psychic vibrations had remained close to home, thank goodness. She couldn’t imagine how helpless she’d feel if her vision suddenly placed her in a war zone overseas.
He nodded. “You okay on your own?”
“Yes, I’m fine. We need to hurry.”
He let her go to head for his office on the first floor. Adelaide made her way to the base of the winding marble staircase that was the centerpiece of her luxurious home and stood at the foot of the steps. She looked up, and not for the first time, firmly regretted purchasing a two-story home with her lottery money. Then again, she wouldn’t have known she’d end up injured as she had.
Then again, she was psychic. Maybe she should have known.
She shook her head at that thought. Her visions were never about her own physical well-being… or the physical well-being of those she loved. She’d learned that the hard way.
It was fate’s cruel joke. It was nature’s way of evening things out. Because nature couldn’t possibly allow something to just be good and not bad. Bad and not good was fine: allergies, aging, disease, you name it. The other way around though, nuh-huh. Because nature was a filthy, stinking whore with few redeeming qualities to speak of.
With a heavy heart but frank determination, she began climbing the stairs as quickly as she could. She needed to get changed and pack a bag. Time was of the essence.
Maybe in the near future she would have an elevator installed.
She was half-way to the second floor when Rodney called up the stairs. “Your initial instincts were right! There’s a Thistle street in South Park, Seattle!” He started up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“Get me the phone number for their police,” she said, though she knew he was probably already on that.
“Already got it,” he said, confirming her theory. “And I’ve already dialed.” He handed her the phone he’d carried up the stairs with him, and she nodded as she put it to her ear.
“Hi,” she said as the cops picked up on the other end. “I don’t know which department I need to speak with, but I need to report a case of severe animal cruelty. Thistle Street in South Park. You need to get there quick. They’ve got a dog chained up and they’re doing terrible things to it.”
She hung up then, as she knew the first thing the police would do is ask for her name, phone number, and everything else she didn’t want them to know. She only prayed they wouldn’t take the call for granted.
Her trip to Seattle would reveal whether or not they had. Either way, she needed to get to the puppy and take it some place safe. If the cruelty didn’t take place today, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t take place soon.
That was why she had thirty-seven acres of land in Montana with seven different structures built upon it, and twelve veterinarians on-call in eight different states. Everyone deserved a safe place to call home. Even a chained up dog in a sketchy neighborhood in Seattle.
Hell, especially the dog.