Storm Chasers: Guilty as Charged

The third episode in the teen fiction series, Storm Chasers. It is entitled "Guilty as Charged."
Camille feels tremendous guilt over not being able to save a snowbound family from their mountaintop cabin.


It was 5 AM in the all-nite diner, and the kitchen was busy with dinner and breakfast orders. The late night truckers and bored tourists passing through hadn’t had enough of entertaining themselves--and apparently, the rest of the place--with their drunk, loud and rowdy behavior. Several staff had to come over to ask them to quiet down, on more than one occasion.
Katrina and her team of storm tamers were sitting in a booth in the rear of the café, nursing ice cream sundaes. Their waitress gave them an odd look when she came over. Ice cream seems like a strange choice when it’s forty degrees outside. The first big snowstorm of the season was on its way, and Camille wondered what she was going to do.
“That last assignment was a real doozy, if you ask me,” said Andrew, licking off fudge sauce from a spoon.
“That was nothing,” responded Floyd. “Remember, in our training in heaven, we saved entire worlds. Something tells me there’s a reason for that. We may very well face it, here on Earth. Our mentors want us to be prepared for anything that comes our way. And don’t forget, they will help us if needed. That drain of energy you felt was probably just you being overwhelmed by your perceived pressure of your first job. Maybe another one of your hallucinations."
Andrew shot Floyd an ice glare, similar to the one he gave for admiring Mrs. Sanchez. Katrina smirked at the two ‘adolescents’ having it out.
Camille, however, was lost in another world. She was busy being captivated by a six-year-old girl and her doll. The youngster was sitting with her older brother and parents, and finishing off a place of French Fries. Camille had a hundred questions. Is she having a good time? Does she live nearby? What is she going to do with the rest of her winter vacation? What is her doll’s name?
Camille looked up and saw a scowl on the father’s face. What do you want? Why don’t you mind your own business, young lady? Stick with your friends over there--he motioned with a nod--the young punks, I’m sure. But his wife silenced him with a look of her own.
“Leave her alone, honey. The girl doesn’t mean any harm, she’s just being friendly.”
“I’m really sorry,” Katrina told the woman. “She didn’t mean to bother you…right?” Katrina bore into Camille. “She has some growing up to do today.”
The married man who scolded Camille eased up on his stance. “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “It was an awkward moment; it’s passed.”
“Maybe we’ll see you around,” said the wife, leading her family on the way out. “If you’re nearby, we’re at that resort down the road--Skyhawk Ranch. I’m Marsha Littleton,” she said, offering Camille a handshake. Camille took it gingerly. Now it was the woman’s turn to be nosy.
Her husband reversed his position again. “Marsha, stop it! You don’t know these people. What if they’re deranged killers?”
Andrew looked on in disgust as he led his own group away. “Let’s just go guys, okay?”
“Okay, fine, we’ll be going. But you, sir,” Camille berated the gentleman, “should take a lesson in humanity. Not everyone has evil intentions, you know.”
Camille then rejoined her gang. The twelve-year-old came up from behind and gently took her hand. “Hey,” he said, “you’ll have to excuse my dad. He means well, but sometimes…he can be a bit harsh.”
“It’s okay, I understand. He’s just looking out for his family.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Then a short pause, as he stared longingly into her eyes.
He continued, with a sly smile, “You know, I’ll be eighteen in only six years. Wait for me. I’ll look ya up, doll.”
Camille was flattered, at first--for a second. Then she felt violated, just as strongly. She remembered, not too long ago, a young man, closer to her age, made a comment about ‘pretty monsters’. And she felt just as turned off. It wasn’t that she didn’t have an interest in guys; in fact, completely the opposite. It’s just that she found most of them driven by their hormones, when she’d rather them be ruled by their heads and hearts.
“I’m sorry,” the little girl said. “Please forgive my brother. He’s a walking horndog.”
“I understand that, too,” Camille replied, with a wide smile. “Either way, like the lady said, maybe we’ll run into each other again. And once again, sir,” she said to the man, “people are not all bad. We’re not deranged killers. We’re just average kids." Perhaps a little more than average. "We’re actually very nice. Maybe you’ll see heroes in us one day. If you’re ever in trouble, I’ll be there to save you.”
Camille didn’t know how badly she would come to regret those words. When they didn’t hold true, she was destined to break down over them.

§

The kids bundled up as they walked out of the restaurant.
“Let's go to the Skyhawk Ranch,” said Camille.
“Oh, honey, will you let it go?” complained Katrina. “You’re not going to accomplish anything more. The man is very overprotective, and you’re not going to change him.”
“What are you talking about?…Oh, that…no, I’ve forgotten about it. I just want to see the ranch, that’s all. It sounds like a cool place to hang out. Besides, the woman said we were welcome. And I want to see people skiing. I want to see people full of life and having fun, cause I didn’t get a chance to.”
“Well, okay,” surrendered Andrew. “But if we run into the guy again, promise me you won’t start any more trouble.”
“If he does, can I melt a giant snowball all over him and get him wet?” Floyd wanted to know.
The winter resort of Skyhawk Ranch was like the typical myriad of all the others in the Utah mountains; packed with vacationers and natives alike every November through April, enjoying nature’s majesty. Camille knew all about the scene she was in. Born and raised in Colorado, it was hard to tell where the border lay between two states so much like brothers.
The wind was already starting to mildly blow in when the kids arrived at the main lodge. The very first thing Camille did was go up to the front desk to inquire as to the whereabouts of her new friends, the Littletons. She knew she was already on friendly terms with the mother and daughter, which was quite understandable; many breeds of the feline species often quickly form bonds. She wanted to make amends with the head of the family, whom she felt just didn’t like her very much, for some reason. And the son…well, she only had to hide from him for another six years.
She learned the location of their cabin, and wanted to make it there for another visit before she missed them. They could very well have gone back out into town again today, since there wasn’t much to do on the slopes after hearing the discouraging news: the storm which was forecast to blow through the area had decided to take a sharp turn North and miss its mark. Everyone was disappointed, but didn’t have long to wait, for another was right behind, and would settle in by the end of the week.
Camille rejoined her friends, saying she also wanted to see the town. And that they may very well just bump into the Littleton clan. She wanted to invite them to have dinner with them and the other kids, and perhaps even think of what else to do before they received the dusting of powder from the new, upcoming snowfall.
Friday came and went quickly--for the residents of Skyhawk Ranch. However, the day moved slowly for the benefit of the storm, which grew stronger as it moved in closer for the kill. Or rather…storms; plural. It seems the earlier one was still out there, building, and had abruptly turned southward again. Just in time to collide with the new one--and all pumped up to form one massive superstorm!
But the good people of the town of Skyhawk and the surrounding communities had little to no notice of the impending disaster, for as it inched closer, it gradually knocked out power to the region.
Communications…gone.
Heat…gone.
And the Littletons were vacationing at Skyhawk!
It was just after seven on Saturday morning when Camille bolted upright on her cot, then shot fully awake like a rocket and roused the others. “C’mon, guys. Get up! Up, up! I wanna have breakfast with the Littletons.”
“Oh, Camille,” Andrew rehashed for the umpteenth time, “what has gotten into you? Why don’t you leave these nice people alone? When they’re gone, that’s it! It’s over! Do you understand?”
“Sure I understand. Why do you think I’m doing this? I’m an angel, so I wanna make friends here whenever I can. Now, do you understand?”
Katrina felt a grin start to grow. “C’mon, guys, ease up. She’s just being cordial. I think it’s a noble gesture. Let her have fun with her new friends.”
“Okay, we’ll humor her,” Floyd said. “But the moment she changes her last name to Littleton, I’m calling for help.”
Camille led the others, excitedly, down the short embankment to the main lodge. She wanted to check the bulletin board to see what and where the day’s special events were. Then she trampled down to the Littletons, shouting back at the others with glee. Being dead and an angel, Camille sure was full of zest and life.
Camille hardly took note of her immediate surroundings upon entering the lodge, and then again when she went outside.
“Uh, Cam,” said Andrew, “don’t you find anything unusual around here?”
“Like what?”
“It’s almost 7:30 in the morning, and even so, there’s almost no one around. Not in the lodge…not on the slopes.” One man and woman were scorching themselves by the fireplace, their arms wrapped tightly around themselves.
“Maybe they’re in their cabins, getting ready for the day.”
“Or maybe they’re in their cabins, hunkering down, trying to stay warm,” came a voice from behind them. It was the morning desk clerk. “That big storm came back last night, and got nastier. We only just received word of it early this morning. I only hope no one’s heat went out. I’d hate for anyone to have caught their deaths.” Careful, mister. You don’t want to be too prophetic.
“Don’t anyone worry,” reassured Cammy. “I know everything’s alright. Come on, people,” she said to her group, “Let’s just go get the Littletons and their children, and then we’ll plan our day.”
The angels ran down the snow-covered slope of the mountain so quickly, if was almost as if they were flying…because they were--after all--angels.
Camille rapped on the door. “Steven…Marsha…it’s me, Camille. Are you in there? We came to take you to breakfast, and then we’ll have another fun-filled day. What do you say?” She opened the door a crack. “Guys?” She found the family in their cabin, still fast asleep.
Floyd commented, “It looks like they slept right through the storm, and even their alarm clocks. They missed all the fun.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. There’s still lots of fun left. Hey, Steven, wake up.” She gave the body of Steven Littleton a shove in an attempt to awaken him.
She was surprised at how cold he was, despite the temperature. And stiff.
“Now that we’re on good terms again, I want to spend the day with you and your family. C‘mon, it‘ll be fun.”
As she quickly surveyed the room and watched the family still ‘sleeping’, Katrina’s mind began to race. “What did the clerk at the lodge say?” she asked of Floyd. “Didn’t he say a big storm came through?…and he wasn’t sure if everyone had adequate heat?”
“Something like that.” Floyd suddenly felt colder than the room.
“Check the generator over there,” Katrina told Andrew.
“Dead,” he said, after a few moments. “Just like…” He could barely swallow the lump in his throat.
“Hey, guys…” piped up a formerly quiet Camille, “…what’s going on?”
Katrina walked over and felt the face of Marsha Littleton. It did not feel right. It did not feel alive.
She turned, slowly, and faced her colleague. “Oh, Camille, I…I’m so sorry.”
“About what?”

§

“Camille…”
“Yeah, what’s up?…Look--I know what you’re trying to say, but it’s not going to work. They’re just…they’re sleeping. They’ll wake up any second now.” She walked over to the children. “Hey, Alex. Hey, Marcy. Get up. It’s time to play.”
Camille began to shudder. Her whole body shook for a second. “C’mon, guys…Don’t you do this to me!” she shouted. Now the walls of the cabin shook, as well.
Andrew, Katrina and Floyd slowly circled Camille in case she needed a soul to throw her arms around, but not so restricting in case she wanted to bolt to a corner and sob.
“Camille,” said Andrew, “I’m so sorry. We were too late.”
“No…NO!!” she cried, with her fists raised in the air, ready to smash anything to release the vengeance. Camille’s voice was enough to make birds in the trees in the surrounding countryside fly away. Silently, she cursed the fate which allowed them to live while stealing innocent youth.
It was eventually Andrew that Camille ran to. All she kept repeating was to ask ‘why’. “What did I do to deserve this? They were my friends. I just wanted to love them. I only wanted to love them.”
A violent rage burned in Camille. It was part shame and guilt at not being around to save her new friends; another part filled her with the unfairness of it all. All in one motion, she released her grip from Andrew and bolted out of there like a shot from a cannon. Camille ran down the snowy mountainside like she had never before run a marathon, crying out all the way.
“Ah! Nooooooooooo!” She tripped over twigs and stones along the way, and was afraid she’d get caught up in another avalanche. Once as alive; once as not.
Andrew and the others chased after her. They did not want her to stray too far and become lost in unfamiliar wilderness. But Camille wanted to get lost. A large part of her felt that her only just punishment was self-imposed exile. Eventually, they did lose track of her, though they never gave up their search. Minute after minute, hour after hour, they looked for their friend. Just when they thought all hope was lost (and they thought they’d have to ask their heavenly mentors for help), they finally found her.
Camille ran so hard, so fast and so far until she could run no more. They located her at the bottom of a snow bank, at the edge of a field, mumbling to herself and sobbing her little heart out. She was so lost in herself, and in the moment, that they were feared any sudden motion would startle her into running off again.
They each slowly came upon her in a circular pattern, coming closer…closer. Andrew was exactly two feet behind her when he whispered her name so softly, he thought the sound of his own voice might have been the wind itself.
Camille…Camille…
Camille’s tears abated and she looked up, slowly. Then behind her. When she saw Andrew--and then the others--come upon her, she just about completely lost it. She began to sob all over again, this time not so much over the incident, but rather relief that her friends had found her after searching all day long. It was almost dusk. She fell into his arms.
“I blew it! I blew it!” she cried, as Katrina and Floyd surrounded them in one giant bear hug. “I failed at my job! I blew it big time!”
“No, honey,” consoled Katrina. “You didn’t blow it. It couldn’t be helped. You couldn’t have known.”
“Yes, I could. I’m an angel. I’m from the heavens. I should have known what was happening. I slept right through it. I stood there and did nothing while people died.” She began to shudder again.
“I didn’t do my job. I should be taken back.” She stood up and distanced herself from her friends, in a barren spot in the middle of the field. “I failed!” she shouted to the sky. “Take me back! Do you hear? TAKE ME BACK!!”
The kids ran to her and wrapped themselves around her again. Andrew looked her squarely in the eye, as he grabbed her shoulders. He wanted her full attention. “Camille! Camille, look at me!”
Her eyes alternated between terror and mournfulness. She began to turn away.
“Oh, no, you don’t! You’re not going anywhere! Camille…sweetheart…it happened. Something happened, okay? And trust me, you couldn’t help. It’s over…but you’re not. You’re still here with us. And we love you. We are not going to let you do this to yourself! It’s okay. You will save many others!”
'Camille…!'
Camille’s guardian angel appeared as an image before her and scolded her. 'Camille, listen to your friends. They speak the truth. What’s done is done. You are going to have to accept that you can’t save everyone. The ones you do rescue will count, but this will not weigh against you. I know you are feeling bad, but do not let it harden your heart. There is nothing you could have done. It is something that happened. It is okay, and you must move on.'
“Where are they now? Bring them back. Please…take me instead and bring them baaack!” she wailed, with the tears in her eyes nearly clouding her entire field of vision.
'I am sorry, my dear Camille. I cannot undo what has been done. Please just go on with the remainder of your angel’s assignment. You are not loved any less. I will be here if you need me. Take care, my child.' Then the apparition disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Camille stood there for several more moments, and just cried. Cried until her angel tears crystallized upon her face. She remembered the words of her mentor: There is nothing you could have done. It is something that happened. Deep inside, she knew the meaning was clear:
DO NOT MAKE THIS MISTAKE AGAIN!
The three kids came up from behind their sibling. Katrina put her arms around her in a tight squeeze. “It’s okay, honey,” she said. “It’s okay.”

§

Camille was relaxing by a campfire with the others, but really just wanted to be alone. Alone with her thoughts…and her guilt. If only she could figure out a way to make things right again, she would gladly love to go back in time and stop the tragedy from occurring. She focused on this obsession, it seemed, until she could think of little else. It seemed like the only logical solution. But what was she told by her mentors in heaven? Even we cannot turn back the hands of time.
She bit a piece of toasty, gooey marshmallow from a stick as she thought about the believability of the statement. Scientists have debated the concept of time travel for years. And even so, being an angel, surely she had higher capabilities than man. Heck, Andrew single-handedly destroyed a tornado! So, some things were not beyond reason.
Katrina reached out to her. “Are you alright, kiddo?” she asked.
“Yeah, I guess,” she answered. “It all just seems so unfair, that's all."
“I know, honey. We all know. But it happens to everyone. What occurred is not new.”
“Hey, where are the bodies? I want to pay my last respects.”
“I think officials at the resort took care of that,” said Andrew. “They created a provisional cemetery, and maybe family came to say goodbye.”
“Well, I’m going to, too. I figure it’s the least I could do, after all that’s happened.”
“You don’t have to, you know, but if it’ll make you feel better…” said Floyd.
An hour later Camille was in a barren field, empty save for a few scattered brushes that hadn’t yet completely been uprooted by the fierce winter winds. And a collection of rocks that she knew were too roughly square to be anything natural. As she got closer, she saw that it was a collection of makeshift headstones, which apparently had been placed there most recently. Each one gave a short epitaph of its bearer beneath the ground, along with the date--December 22, by taped-on paper; members of a young family who had surrendered to those same winds.
And behind those stones, larger than the rest, in the exact center, was a large boulder set in the ground. A slab of cardboard was glued to it, giving the details of the family as a whole, and who they had left behind. In black marker, it read:

HERE LIES THE LITTLETON FAMILY
STEVEN, MARSHA, SAM, MARCY
THEY ONLY HAD ONE ANOTHER
AND A COLD WINTER WORLD

SURVIVED BY SEVERAL WARM HEARTS
PARENTS, GRANDPARENTS, DOG SKIP
-------------------------------
AND NEW FRIEND CAMILLE

When Camille spotted the last line, she broke down and cried again, from joy and gratitude, not from sadness. She was surprised and pleased that she was considered a part of the family, not by the family themselves, but by the courteous caretakers who had remembered her.
She said a silent prayer.
"Hey, guys, it’s me, Cammykins. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to toss a whole world full of anger my way. I have a universe of guilt on my shoulders as it is. I blew it big time, didn’t I? I had a chance to save you and I didn’t. And now you’re gone and I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it. Can you ever forgive me? Will you?
"I suppose now would be an okay time to tell you a little something about myself. I’m not exactly who you think I am. I’m an angel…returned to Earth, and given the assignment to help others. But I failed with you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I wish I could bring you back. I wish I could go back to yesterday and…"
Cross the international date line…
Fly across the world…
"…warn you somehow. Stop it from happening and save you."
Can I really do that…?
If only…
Before she knew what she was doing, Camille was in the air. She let the cold winter air carry her across the field and beyond…to forests…over mountains, streams and dreams. She flew counter-clockwise, across the vastness of Utah, Nevada and California, which took all but the remainder of the evening. She went faster and faster, barely stopping to even breathe. Careening past the coast, right over the Pacific Ocean she went. As she saw Alaska’s Aleutian Islands, she abruptly turned in a more Northwesterly direction; she wanted to be closer to the Arctic region in order to make her task go more quickly.
It was just after midnight when she crossed the dividing line between yesterday and today. But since it was after midnight, she wound up right back at the day from which she started. She still had another whole day to go! She was not about to let the laws of physics stop her from completing her goal.
Camille finished her trek across the Pacific, then fled into the skies across Asia, Europe, the Atlantic Ocean, and then finally she hit New York City and the beginning of the U.S. mainland. Across the Appalachians, past Chicago, the Plains, and then into her home state of Colorado.
She resisted the urge to drop to the ground for a visit to all and whoever was familiar, for she still had a job to do.
She finally made it back into Utah, but because she was at the day she started, she needed to go around again to get back to yesterday. Cam vowed to complete this self-imposed assignment as quickly as possible, so she sped up. She flew so fast, that a few times she felt the friction of the Earth’s turn move against her. She did not want to burn up in the atmosphere; she willed herself to stay intact.
Eventually she crossed into Utah again, and began her descent when she was right over Skyhawk. She stormed into the nearest General Store and picked up a newspaper. She looked for the date. It read December 21. Camille didn’t know how long she had to save the Littletons, but knew that every second delay was a second too long.
She barged into their cabin, startling them awake. All of the mistrust and animosity that Steven Littleton had had for Camille in the beginning seemed to rise to the surface again upon this sudden intrusion.
“What the hell is going on here? Hey, Camille, is that you? What’s the big idea?”
“There’s no time to argue or explain. I want all of you to get out of here right now, and go hide out in the main lodge. There’s a huge storm coming, and you may not have enough heat to stay warm. I don’t want you to freeze to death.”
“Wait, how do you know about this? You can’t just barge in here on our family and--” barked Marsha.
“I said I don’t have time to explain right now. Don’t ask me how I know; I just do. Go to the lodge and stay warm for the night. Sleep in front of the fireplace if you have to. Please, just go, now.”
Satisfied with having successfully completed her task, Camille aimed to rejoin her flock--in the present day, rather than “fly” back into tomorrow. She wanted to stick around with the Littletons, in case Plan A did not work out. She simply aimed to lie low for the next twenty-four hours.
Well, as it turned out, Plan A worked out perfectly. Camille had a chance to actually GO BACK IN TIME to warn the Littleton family, and preserve their existence from that point on. She told herself that it was the least she could do, with all the trouble she caused.
Now they were alive again (or rather, it was like nothing had happened at all), and Camille could go ahead and be friends with them for a long time to come.
There was just one…little…problem.
When Camille rejoined her friends at the end of the day, she was faced with three angry angels.
“Where have you been?” Andrew demanded to know.
“I told you, I went into town to see the sights.”
“Oh, really? And you had no contact with the Littletons?”
“No, I haven’t seen them. Are they alright?”
“Interesting choice of words. Cause they certainly have seen you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know very well what we mean,” scolded Katrina. “What are the Littletons doing alive?”
“Wha--because…because I did it! Alright? It was me! I HAD TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT AGAIN!!"
“Camille, you should not have--!” shouted Floyd.
“I do not care! I don’t care what the rules say! I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself! I know that’s an interesting choice of words, too. Angels aren’t really living. But you know what I mean, don’t you?”
“Camille,” said Katrina, "death is supposed to be final. You know that. We have already discussed this. You broke the rules, and could have jeopardized the assignment. For all of us."
“Yeah, I know…listen, you don’t know what I was going through. What was eating me up inside. I had to do something. It was so unfair, like I said earlier. Plus, if you remember, it was all…my…fault!"
“No, it wasn’t, honey,” Katrina told her. “We told you, it was simply a mistake. There was no way anyone could have known about the storm. All the power was out, remember?”
“But still…”
“Look, everyone just calm down, okay?” said Andrew. “What’s done is done. And we have to keep quiet about this. If our guardian angels find out about this…”
“I’m sure they already know.” said Floyd.
“Well, if they don’t say anything…we don’t say anything. Understand, everyone?”
The gang nodded their heads simultaneously.
“And there’s something else, too. Camille, you’re not going to like this--at all.”
“What is it?” she asked, with a strain in her voice.
“When the Littletons died originally, there was most likely a story about it in the local paper; maybe even an obituary. And now that they’re back, there’s going to be another one about that, if it hasn’t been printed already. Those two items are going to conflict with one another. Sooner or later, someone is going to recall you being with them, and begin asking questions. Do you all see what I am getting at?”
“I don’t see your point,” said Camille.
“In order to keep our secret safe, there cannot be any connection tying you to the Littleton family. You must disappear from their lives, here and now.”
“Andrew--no!” Tears began to well up in Camille’s eyes once again.
“I am sorry, Camille. It is good, I suppose, that you brought them back, but as a natural consequence, to protect ourselves, you can never see them again.”
“Can’t I even say goodbye?”
“No, I’m sorry. Forget about them. We are in the Angel Protection Program."
Camille walked over and leaned against a tree, her stinging tears stripping the bark away.
“I think it would be a very good idea if we all just left this area," said Andrew. "Now.”
The four souls from the heavens took to the skies, ready to see what adventures lay ahead.
Camille had something to say to each one of her friends which she left behind, never to lay her eyes on again.
"Marsha, you’re a wonderful person. Take good care of your family.
"Marcy, you’ll be a fine young lady. Your eyes sparkle. Don’t lose your doll.
"Steven, I know deep inside you don’t have a hardened heart. Please try to see the good in the world.
"And Alex, you are going to make some girl very happy one day. I only hope you find someone to admire who is just like me."

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