Chapter Three

Smoke and flame were billowing from the treadmill and Jaime's head rested on the front panel, but her legs kept on moving. "You're slacking, robot - keep running!" Oscar growled. He turned to Rudy. "This is not what I paid for!"

Jaime, no longer able to keep going, was thrown off the back of the treadmill. When she caught her breath, she glared at the two men. "You're so worried about your money! What about my life? I didn't ask to be a damn machine!"

"Well, that's gratitude for you," Rudy sneered. "How about if we just take back what we gave you? Where would you be then?"

"A hell of a lot better off!" Jaime said firmly.

Oscar and Rudy shrugged at each other and began tugging at her limbs, which popped right off, like drumsticks from an over-cooked turkey. What was left of Jaime was lying helplessly in a corner, resembling a broken, discarded old doll.

The brightest light she'd ever seen began swirling around her, and Jaime smiled.

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Allison ran in the open front door and found Jaime stretched out on the floor with Steve leaning over her, performing mouth-to-mouth. "She's not breathing!" he called out to the doctor.

"Michael called the Medivac as soon as you told him she was asleep," Allison said, kneeling on the other side of Jaime's much-too-still body. "They'll be here any minute. I'll take over for you, so you can catch your breath."

Tears began to cloud Steve's vision as he sat back on his heels and looked at Jaime. He could feel her spirit receding, fading away from him. He heard the whirring sound of chopper blades in the backyard and ran to meet the Medivac. As Rudy and Michael emerged from the chopper, their radios crackled to life.

"Bring the paddles!" Alilison requested. "I've lost the pulse!"

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The light felt so warm and welcoming and Jaime, her arm and legs restored to flesh and blood, willingly followed. She could see the bridge up ahead, the one she hadn't been allowed to cross on her previous visit, with her parents waiting on the other side. Happily unencumbered, she floated toward it and toward them.

Suddenly, unseen hands seemed to be pulling at her from behind, stopping her just short of the bridge. Confused, she looked at her parents. Ann Sommers smiled. "Shake them off, Jaime. This time, you can join us if it's what you truly want."

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"I've got a pulse," Michael announced. "It's faint, but it's there. We've got her back; now let's get her on the chopper."

The medics moved to fasten the safety straps around Jaime's body, but although nearly comatose, she began flailing wildly, knocking both medics to the ground. "No..." she mumbled, "let go..." The medics got up and started back toward the gurney.

"Wait," Allison told them. "Don't move her yet." She stepped back toward Steve. "Talk to her; she'll be able to hear you. Tell her what's in your heart. Jaime needs to hear your voice."

Steve knelt down, kissed Jaime's forehead and spoke in a soft, soothing voice. "Jaime, you need to let the doctors help you, because...I need you, Sweetheart. Please - don't leave me. I love you."

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Jaime shook off the hands that were trying to pull her back and, her spirit calm and joyful, she took the first step onto the bridge. Steve's voice shattered the glowing peace of the moment.

"Please don't leave me; I love you."

Jaime froze in place, torn by conflicting emotions so extreme she could neither go forward or back. "Mom? Dad?" she asked plaintively.

"We can't decide for you, Darling. This was not your time, but your desire to choose your own fate was so strong, it evolved into...this. And, Jaime, you must decide how it turns out."

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Steve stood just outside the glass wall of the ICU, watching helplessly as Rudy, Michael and their assistants continued their fight to save Jaime. His words had calmed her sufficiently so she could be placed in the Medivac and flown here, but her condition was anything but stable. With every ounce of his energy, Steve tried to project his love and his strength through the glass and into Jaime, but there appeared to be no change in the well-choreographed activity around her bed.

Allison Taylor appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to stand at his side. After several minutes, she finally spoke. "How are you doing, Steve?"

"Right now, Jaime is all that matters," he replied, "and I don't have a clue."

"No one's told you anything?"

"She needs them a lot more than I do; I'd rather they stay in there, but -"

"I'll see what I can find out," Allison told him. At the same moment that she opened the door, the weak, uneven beep of the heart monitor turned into a steady, insistent wail.

Rudy's voice carried out into the hallway. "She's flatlined."

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