Chapter 1: Birth Pains

Sean David Kilpatrick drew his first breath at exactly noon on June 22^nd, 1975. Everyone was very sure of the time because the power went out as the baby boy started to take his first breath. The official clock used to record such events in the delivery room was electronically set twice daily to the atomic clock in Denver to ensure its accuracy. The nurse responsible for recording such mundane information as the time of births and deaths commented that the clock stopped exactly at 12:00 noon when the power went out. The hour hand, the minute hand, and the second hand, were all pointing straight up, and perfectly aligned. The power returned after five minutes, and the clock automatically resynchronized with Denver, and was set to five minutes after the hour, exactly.

June 22^nd, 1975 was the summer solstice, so Sean David Kilpatrick was born on the longest day of the year, exactly equidistant between the dark of dawn and dusk. It should have been a happy day.

Births are supposed to be happy times, but it wasn't the case for Sean David. Sean's mother, Mary Kilpatrick, called the company where Sean's father worked when the birth contractions started. That was just a little after 9:00 AM on June 22^nd. Frank Kilpatrick had just clocked in at work, and became frantic when he got the call from his wife. He worked on the other side of Phoenix and it was a difficult drive from his workplace to his home. For those of you that have visited the Valley of the Sun, you know how big it seems. 1975 Phoenix was in a rush to get caught up with the rest of the nation's freeways. Every freeway in metro Phoenix was being lengthened, widened, or being built from scratch. The quarter million people trying to get to work, and home, without freeways were forced onto the surface streets. The drive home to pick up his wife was a nerve racking experience. It took him until 11:25 to drive home, pick up Mary and get back on the road to head for the hospital. Frank Kilpatrick was nervous, scared, and excited about the impending birth of his first child. Mary's cries of pain every few moments as her contractions hit closer and closer together only heightened his panic. He kicked himself for not simply calling an ambulance for his wife and planning to meet her at the hospital. His efforts to force his way through the snarl of Phoenix traffic didn't seem to be doing any good at all. It seemed like nearly every street was under construction, and what wasn't under construction was mismarked on how traffic should flow.

Frank was stopped at a red light. He impatiently watched the light on his left until it finally turned yellow. He leaned forward, his apprehension rising, as Mary groaned through another contraction. The yellow light seemed to last forever as he felt his heart beat twice before it switched to red. His eyes snapped forward to a clear intersection and he stomped on the gas. He could see the hospital just a block away.

The garbage truck driver was cursing his job, the traffic, and life in general. He had spilled his coffee at the last red light when he had to slam on his brakes because some old woman had turned left in front of him. He was running late on his route because of the traffic, which meant another long day. His contract paid by the route, not by the hour. He used to be able to finish his garbage route in seven hours, but now, with all the construction, he was lucky to finish in ten. Today it was looking like it would be closer to twelve, so he was anxious. He had promised his wife and two kids that he would take them to the lake that afternoon, and he didn't want to be late. His kids would understand but his wife wouldn't. She acted like he had complete control of his job and the traffic and the damn idiots on the road. His anger was rising and it showed in his driving.

The garbage truck driver had a clear space between him and the intersection of almost a full truck length when the green light turned yellow. He had just got the big garbage truck up to speed from the last red light. "Son of a bitch," he screamed, and stomped on the gas.

Both the garbage truck driver and Frank were just a fraction of a second off in their timing.

The garbage truck driver was slammed forward when he hit the car. He wasn't wearing a seat belt that company safety regulations required. The laws hadn't taken effect requiring seat belts and the driver didn't need the sissy thing. His chest impacted the steering column right over his heart. He wasn't going to make it to the lake with his wife and kids ever again.

The big truck hit Frank's side of the car, and he was killed instantly when the side of his head was crushed. Mary was still alive when the ambulance arrived, but no one could figure out why. Both her legs were broken, and her upper body was mangled in the wreck.

No one noticed the slender, stoop shouldered man standing on the corner. Someone should have noticed him because he was so odd looking. His sun browned skin and long, greasy black hair could have marked him as either Mexican, or Native American, or any south European native. His loose jeans weren't unusual, but the solid green army field jacket shell he was wearing was out of place. It was the end of June in Phoenix and the temperature was already over 100 degrees. No one wore a coat in this heat. Maybe his looks weren't unusual enough in that day and time to be noticed but he should have been noticed when he started laughing. He should have been noticed when the laughter turned to howls of merriment when the vehicles collided, and two lives were snuffed out.

Eli was known as a Brujo of great power. He had been warned that a great enemy would be at this intersection on this day in a spirit dream. Eli was shown this corner in the dream and the car his enemy would be coming in. He was shown the garbage truck on the cross street, and how he could heighten the emotions of the truck driver and the driver in the car. All he had to do was tweak the feelings that were already there in both men to cause the accident that he needed. He felt the life end for the two men before the vehicles even came to rest after the collision. He felt two other lives in the car, but one was unborn, and the other was fluttering as it tried to escape its damaged prison.

Eli reached out with his spirit, and caressed that prison and thinned its walls. He urged that spirit to leave it's bonds of flesh because the pain was too much to bear. He briefly touched the unborn life, and the power almost caused him to lose his connection. He steadied himself, and assured the mother's body that giving up was perfectly acceptable. There was no reason to hang on to life any longer he urged the spirit. He smiled, as he felt it just on the cusp of surrendering to death. He couldn't snuff out a life with his spirit connection, but he could be very persuasive. He was smiling as he walked away because he knew the mother wouldn't live for more than a few moments.