Heya, first chapter of my new story, An Unusual Blessing.
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Disclaimer: Characters etc. property of SM
A New Life
Esme
I was hunting in Alaska when I heard it. It was faint, and ebbed and flowed on the wind, like a tide, but the sound was recognisable nonetheless. High pitched, and filled with a deep sorrow and fear that only the very young and innocent could fully express.
A baby crying.
It was female, and young, I decided, as I drifted with the sound. It pulled me closer, with no conscious decision on my part, drawing me in with an almost magnetic force. I guessed that I was almost a mile away, and gave up drifting – I stretched myself into a body extending sprint, forcing my feet to fly, using more strength with every step I took, wishing fiercely that I had Edward's speed. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I hardly noticed, every fraction of my being focused on this one task.
Finding the child.
The sound increased tenfold as I rocketed closer, my feet instinctively choosing the most direct route, because in that moment nothing could compare to the importance of finding the source of the wailing, before it was too late, before the screams were silenced forever. In that moment, I had never heard anything so vital or beautiful in my entire existence. The sound gave me new strength, strength I hadn't known that I possessed. I was shooting through the trees like a bullet now, and a startled laugh tore from my lips as a strange, bittersweet joy raced through me. I had never ran this fast, had never been this determined. Not when I stood upon the cliff-top, about to jump, not when I had first heard Carlisle's voice, and known that I had found the person I would follow through all of eternity.
I paid no mind to my surroundings, not caring where I was in relation to civilisation – not human would be able to see me at this speed. I adjusted my course minutely, still following my ears, praying that I would not be too late.
And now I was able to follow my nose, too. There was a faint sweetness of blood, but the thoughts of the child's safety drove the remainder of my thirst from my throat, and I was only aware of a fierce maternal instinct, to protect, to nurture.
There was also a stench of burning flesh, and… petrol? A car-crash, maybe. But there were no roads near here, were there? Perhaps I had come further than I first thought.
Only another hundred metres, and… yes!
I burst onto the road, showering pine needles everywhere, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
The sight before me was horrific, and I felt myself gag once, even as I darted towards it. I knew that, no matter how long I lived, not matter how many things I saw, I would never forget the scene that was spread out on the snow, like a backdrop for a play, painted in horrific and terrifying detail.
It was like something from a film. There were only two vehicles, but two was plenty. There was a family car – a Chrysler Voyager, I thought, though I certainly wasn't a car expert, and one other.
An oil lorry, a sixteen-wheeler, its contents spilling across the road at a dangerous rate, was lying on its side; the front of the cab dented severely, the man inside dead but reeking of alcohol. The truck had skidded on the icy road, and had smashed in the Chrysler, before sliding some more and eventually tipping over.
The front of the car had been ripped away, and it was instantly clear that whoever was driving couldn't possibly have survived. Both cars were on fire, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before they both went up in smoke, their passengers still inside.
But where was the child?
I paused to listen hard, and I could just catch the faint sound of quiet sobs from the back of the car, along with a fluttering heartbeat that flew through the air to greet me like a butterfly, a bright spark of hope against this desolate wasteland of despair.
It was easy to reach the tiny child – she had missed death by a couple of inches, and her chair was right in front of the opening where the front of the car had once been. Her wails had started up again, and she was now screaming bloody murder. Her tiny fists flailed, having escaped her blanket, and she thrashed her tiny feet wildly.
I tried to soothe her as I carefully manoeuvred the flames. Heavens knows I couldn't afford to catch fire now.
"Shh, shhh, it's all right, little one, it's all right, I'm here, that's right, don't cry," and other such quieting words that really meant very little.
I swiftly unbuckled her seat belt, and drew her into the safety of my arms. She was a very trusting little thing – she laid her head on my shoulder, and her crying lessened slightly.
"Okay, let's get you out of here," I whispered in her ear. She really was tiny – she couldn't have been more than six months old. She curled her tiny fingers around my hair, and looked up at me with the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen; they were a rich milk-chocolate colour, and very, very deep – I felt a staggering wave of emotion course through me; it was so strong I was nearly knocked backwards off my feet, and for a moment, I forgot where I was, and just smiled at her.
A resounding crash made me remember where we were standing, and the little girl's high-pitched cry started up again. I tightened my arms around her, pressing her face into my shoulder, and took off running, stopping only when I knew I was a safe distance from the wreckage that had been the little girl's life.
My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down, guiltily remembering how I had ignored it before. I took it out of my pocket, almost crying in relief when I saw the caller ID.
"Alice."
"Esme, she's so adorable! Can we keep her? Please?!"
I had to laugh at my daughter's eagerness. The little girl shifted in my arms at the sound of my laughter, and stared up at me solemnly.
"Alice, what should I do? Her parents are dead, and I don't even know her name…"
"Don't worry about it," Alice cut me off. "Bring her back here, and we will take things from there."
"Okay," I sighed in relief. "Thank you, Alice. Oh, and could you not tell anyone else? I want it to be a surprise!"
"Okay, Esme! See you soon," she chirped brightly, before hanging up. I put the phone back in my pocket and glanced down. The baby girl, having grown weary of our conversation, had quietly fallen asleep, and I smiled down at her peaceful face. She really was very beautiful.
I noticed a small glint of gold around her neck, and I carefully shifted her so that I could get a better look. It was an engraved gold locket, with the words 'Our beloved daughter, Isabella Swan' picked out in silver.
"That's a pretty name," I murmured, too soft to wake her up. "A pretty name for a pretty baby.
"Let's get you home, Bella"
