Minutes - maybe even seconds - before, the answer to that question might have been yes. But when it came down to it, I just couldn't. I couldn't, in spite of what Michael had done. I simply had too many years of mediation behind me. Too many years, and too many deaths. I couldn't stand there and allow yet another one to occur right before my eyes.
Michael's face was contorted and purple, his glasses askew, when I finally shouted, "Stop!"
Instantly, the car stopped rocking. The windshield wipers stilled. Britney's voice was cut off mid-note, and Michael's car seat started sliding slowly back. The seatbelt loosened around his neck enough to allow him to gasp for air. He collapsed against the back of the seat, looking confused and frightened, his chest heaving.
Josh blinked at me like someone newly wakened from a trance. "What?" he said, sounding annoyed.
I said, "I'm sorry. But I can't let you do this."
Josh and the others exchanged glances. Mark was the first to speak. He gave a little laugh and went, "Oh, right."
Then the radio blared to life again, and suddenly, the car was rocking on its shocks.
I reacted swiftly and decisively by hammering a fist into Mark Pulsford's gut. This threw off the Angels' concentration enough so that Michael was able to scrape open the driver's side door and throw himself out of the car before anything else could start strangling him. He lay in the gravel, moaning.
Mark, on the other hand, recovered all too quickly from my assault.
"You bitch," he said, looking mightily offended. "What gives?"
"Yeah." Josh was clearly livid. His blue eyes were like shards of ice as they glinted at me. "First you say we can't kill him. Then you say we can. Then you say we can't. Well, guess what? We're tired of this mediation crap. We're killing him, and that's the end of it."
That was when the car started rocking with enough energy that it looked as if it was going to flip over, right on top of Michael.
"No!" I cried. "Look, I was wrong, all right? I mean, he tried to kill me, too, and I'll admit, I went a little wacko. But believe me, this isn't the way - "
"Speak for yourself," Josh said.
And a second later, I was flying backward through the air, blown off my feet by a blast of energy so strong, I was convinced Michael's car had blown up.
It wasn't until I landed hard in the dirt on the far side of the parking area that I realized it hadn't been the car exploding at all. It had merely been the combined force of the Angels' psychic power, thrown casually my way. I had been tossed aside as easily as an ant flicked off a picnic table.
I guess that's when I knew I was in some real trouble. I had, I realized, unleashed a monster. Or four of them, I should say.
I was struggling to get back up to my feet when Jesse materialized beside me, looking almost as angry as Josh.
"Nombre de Dios," I heard him breathe as he took in the sight before him. Then he looked down at me. "What is happening here?" he demanded, holding out a hand to help me up. "I turn around for one second, and they are gone. Did you call them?"
Flinching - and not from pain - I took his hand, and let him pull me up.
"Yes," I admitted, brushing myself off. "But I didn't … well, I didn't mean for this to happen."
Jesse looked at Michael, who was crawling across the parking lot, trying to get away from his gyrating car.
"Nombre de Dios, Susannah," Jesse said again, incredulously. "What did you expect to happen? You bring that boy here, of all places? And now you ask them not to kill him?" Shaking his head, Jesse started striding toward the Angels.
"You don't understand," I protested, trotting after him. "He tried to kill me. And Doc and Gina and Dopey and - "
"So you do this? Susannah, don't you know by now that you are not a killer?" Jesse's dark-eyed gaze bored into me. "Kindly don't try to act like one. The only person who will end up getting hurt by it is you."
I was so taken aback by the rebuke in his tone, tears filled my eyes. I mean it. Actual tears. Furious. That's what I told myself. I was crying because I was furious with him. Not because he'd hurt my feelings. Not at all.
But Jesse didn't notice my fury. He'd turned his back on me, and now he strode up to the Angels. A second later, the car stopped rocking, the windshield wipers and radio stilled, and the lights went dead. The Angels were strong, it was true. But Jesse had been dead a lot longer than they had.
"Get back to the beach," Jesse said to them.
Josh actually laughed out loud.
"You're kidding me, right?" he said.
"I am not kidding you," Jesse said.
"No way," Mark Pulsford said.
"Yeah." Carrie pointed at me. "I mean, she called us. She said it was all right."
Jesse did not turn his head in the direction Carrie was pointing. It was pretty clear he was disgusted with me.
"Now she says it is not," Jesse informed them. "You will do as she says."
"Don't you get it?" Josh's eyes were flashing again, flashing with the psychic energy he was so filled with. "He killed us. He killed us."
"And he will be punished for it," Jesse said evenly. "But not by you."
"By who, then?" Josh demanded.
"By," Jesse said, "the law."
"Bullshit!" Josh exploded. "That is bullshit, man! We've been waiting all day for the law! The old man said that was what was going to happen, but I don't see this kid being taken away by any boys in blue. Do you? I don't think it's going to happen. So let us teach him a lesson our way."
Jesse shook his head. It was a dangerous move with four angry, out-of-control young ghosts bearing down on him. But he did it anyway.
I took a step closer to Jesse as I saw the RLS Angels shimmer with rage. I stood on tiptoe so he could hear me when I whispered, "I'll take the girls. You take the boys."
"No." Jesse's expression was grim. "Leave, Susannah. While they are occupied with me, run for the road and flag down the next automobile you see. Then go with them to safety."
Uh, yeah. Right.
"And leave you to deal with them alone?" I glared at him. "What are you, nuts?"
"Susannah," he hissed. "You don't understand. They'll kill you - "
I laughed. I actually laughed, all my anger with him gone.
Jesse was right. I didn't understand.
"Let them try," I said.
That's when they rushed us.
I guess the Angels must have agreed upon an arrangement amongst themselves that was similar to the one I'd tried to make with Jesse, since the girls came at me and both boys went for Jesse. I wasn't too dismayed. I mean, two on one is kind of unfair, but, except for the whole telekinetic power thing, I felt we were pretty even. Carrie and Felicia hadn't been fighters when they'd been alive - that much was clear from the very first moment they tackled me - so they didn't have a real solid idea of where it was best to apply a fist in order to cause the most pain.
At least, that's what I thought before they started hitting me. The thing I hadn't counted on was the fact that these girls - and their boyfriends, too - were really, really mad.
And if you think about it, they had a right to be. Okay, maybe they had been jerks when they'd been alive - they didn't exactly strike me as the kind of people I'd want to hang out with, with their obsession with partying and their elitist attitudes - but they'd been young. They would likely have grown into, if not thoughtful, then at least productive citizens.
Michael Meducci had put a stop to that, though. And they were spitting mad about it.
I guess you could argue that their own behavior hadn't exactly been above reproach. I mean, they had thrown that party where Lila Meducci had been so seriously hurt, due not only to her own stupidity, but also their - and their parents' - negligence.