American Bruja: The Los Angeles Cauldron

Chapter 41. Amber McBride

Journal entry from Wednesday, August 10, 2011

4:00 a.m. at the police station

"Earlier this morning, a news helicopter crashed in the Simi Hills in an area known locally as 'Stoner's Jump.' We've confirmed twelve people died, including the pilot and a cameraman. Police are investigating..."

I open my eyes to find my face buried in the corner of a vinyl couch. The stink of sweat hits my nose and makes my eyes water. From the ceiling, gusts of cold air muss my hair.

Over the blare of the news broadcast, Dad's voice reaches my ears. "Amber, wake up."

With a shiver, I sit up and my eyes sweep to the TV mounted on the police station wall. Video of a fiery explosion fills the screen.

As I turn to Dad sitting next to me, the hazy sleepiness fades and my chest tightens. George!

Dad's hands fly to my shoulders, and he pulls me in for a hug. "Honey, I'm so happy you're safe."

Memories of last night's fiery crash flood my brain, along with the stink of burning bodies. George burns as a sacrifice to the Wicker Man. My fault!

Tears flow as a strangled sob escapes my lips. In response, Dad strokes the back of my head. "You're safe, little Red."

Dad's warmth and kind words spark another memory from last night. As we waited in the police station lobby, Mrs. Lobata arrived. Officers Johnson and Gutierrez took her and Seth out of the room. When they returned, Seth broke away from his mom and rushed across the lobby to us. "A buttload of Manson's followers were killed, but the Salvia brothers are fine."

George is safe. I release the breath I've been holding, then lean back against the arm of the couch.

Dad reads my cue and releases me from the hug. Lines cross his forehead, and his mouth is down turned into a frown. "I should've been there for you. I've been so caught up in my work..."

He stops talking as his eyes fill with tears. Crushing sadness slumps my shoulders and I look away to stare at my hands. My heart hurts, but I don't know what to say. My fault. Everyone who comes near me gets hurt.

Before I'm completely sucked into the black hole of guilt, a metal door on the opposite side of the room opens. Officer Gutierrez steps inside the lobby to hold the door open for Mom. As she walks into the lobby, Officer Johnson follows her.

After Mom enters, Gutierrez releases the door. As it swings shut, it clips Johnson in the right shoulder. He winces and rubs the injured area. "Hey, that was a cheap shot, Gutierrez."

Mom ignores the policemen and crosses the lobby towards us. Gutierrez shrugs, then gestures for Johnson to follow.

As they walk across the lobby, Dad turns away to wipe his eyes. When he pivots back toward the lobby and rises to stand, his face is an unreadable mask.

When Mom reaches us, she bypasses Dad without looking at him. Extending her hands, she grabs my wrists to pull me off the couch. As I rise to stand, her lips graze my ear and she whispers, "Let me handle this."

As Mom releases me, Johnson flashes a grin at Gutierrez, then steps in front of him to extend his hand to Dad. "Thank you for coming to pick them up, Dr. McBride."

Dad shakes Officer Johnson's hand. "I'm relieved none of the kids were injured."

His eyes flick to Mom, and his lips turn downward into a frown. The guilt coils around my shoulders and squeezes. He blames Mom, but I'm the one who suggested we go to the Grotto to scry for Conlan. Part of me wants to tell him the truth. It's my fault we ended up at Stoner's Jump. But I'm not brave enough, so I keep my mouth shut.