Turbo: A Power Rangers Movie by Heather Ray (beach read book .TXT) 📕

mouth to protest, but Roger gestured her into silence. "Sure, Princess; your mom and I will go get some coffee. We're right outside if you need us, okay?"

She lifted her heavy head, offering her parents a feeble smile. Once they left, she leaned heavily into the pillow beneath her, staring blankly at the ceiling through glassy eyes.

A sudden, slightly muted six-tone signal made her jump upright.

Puzzled, she inclined her head in the direction of the sound. Her vision was drawn to a far table, covered in bouquets and gifts from all manner of concerned people.

Easing onto shaky legs, Kim crossed the room, and finally found the source of the noise.

Her jaw dropped, and once again the tears overwhelmed their boundaries.

In the back, nearly covered in the more lavish presents of family, friends, and even the eager media, sat a small, unassuming white teddy bear. And it was wearing her pink and silver communicator.

Mesmerized, Kimberly lifted the bear by the scruff of its neck. As she suspected, a quarter-sized coffee stain marked its back, from the time she had gracelessly tripped over her sneakers and splashed the staining fluid all over her bed. Also, it's head was tipped to one side, thanks to countless nights clinging to the bear with all her might, giving his neck a permanent tilt to accommodate her chin properly.

She nearly choked on a guttural sob. "Oh, Tommy…"

He had given her the bear as a token of his affection the last time she lay injured in this very hospital. And somehow, despite all the blood on her hands, despite all the hate

that poisoned her heart, he had enough love for her to actually travel to Florida, find the bear she had buried in her closet after the breakup, and deliver it to her sickbed yet again.

The beeping became more insistent, urging Kimberly to reflexively strap the device to her wrist, and activate it. She hesitated for a moment before finding her voice. "This is Kim."

After a brief pause, Zordon's fatherly, relieved voice streamed through the speaker. "WELCOME BACK, KIMBERLY."

Part Three

Two Days Later…

"Do you think they'll let us in?" Zack wondered, fumbling to tuck in his shirt and appear a little more presentable.

Billy's natural inquisitiveness urged him to examine the harrowing lobby of Angel Grove's largest hospital. "Negative."

Trini frowned. "But why? She's not critically injured; Zordon healed all her physical wounds. And it's been two days since she regained consciousness!"

"That's why," he indicated, pointing out the large window.

The other teens stared out into the street, noticing for the first time the encamped army of news-hounds, several of whom were practically harassing hospital security officers that requested they keep their distance.

"Jerks," Zack groused, "I can't believe they'd be so pushy!"

Jason's expression was stone. "We'll still find a way to see her."

They continued waiting, every ten minutes checking with the obstinate receptionist for over an hour. Every time, she insisted that they wouldn't be able to visit the patient, as the policy was strictly immediate family only.

However, little did she know Jason Scott Lee never

took 'no'

for an answer.

"We'll get in eventually," he determined, sitting straight-backed with his arms crossed. "You'll see."

After another twenty minutes of waiting, the automatic doors swung open to allow a man walking at a brisk pace to enter. He held his hand near his head, batting away the microphones and tape recorders shoved into his face.

"Look, my daughter has been through a very traumatic experience," he declared, just as he entered the foyer, "She is in no condition to offer a statement, and all I will say is that she's alive, awake, and remembers herself. That…and I'm overjoyed to have her back."

He turned away from the reporters, who were unable to actually enter the hospital. As soon as the video cameras were off him, his grim expression collapsed into a thunderous glower.

"Mr. Hart?"

Roger looked up, blinking in surprise at the cluster of teens sitting only a few feet from him.

He smiled eagerly. "Trini! Jason, Billy, Zack! Great to see you!"

Kim's father shook the hands of the three boys, and briefly embraced his daughter's best friend. "I thought you had moved away."

"We did," Billy affirmed, "but when we learned what happened to Kimberly, we returned to Angel Grove expediently."

The older man smiled his appreciation. "I always knew she had the very best friends on the planet."

"Maybe you could help us out, Sir," Jason added, "We've been waiting to see Kim for over an hour, but we've been told only immediate relatives are allowed into her room."

"That's for security purposes more than anything else," Roger informed them. "Let me see what I can do."

Part Four

She couldn't stop crying.

It had been two days since she'd regained consciousness. Two days since the oddly comforting void of a coma had been replaced with reality. Two days since she discovered, thanks to Zordon, that everything was okay.

The Rangers had all survived. Lord Zedd had been destroyed, once and for all. Earth was finally free from alien invaders.

Yet she couldn't stop weeping. It seemed as if the very floodgates of the Heavens had opened right in her tear ducts. The tears were utterly endless, flowing silently in her reverie, cascading amidst choked sobs during her nightmares. Some times they overwhelmed her, reducing her to a gagging, helpless little girl struggling to breathe. Other times they simply dripped, so gently she hardly noticed them.

Zordon had explained his hypothesis. The Flame had blocked her ability to cry, as it handicapped her remorse. So she made up for over a month of horrible deeds, her conscience burning her for every tear she made others weep. It was fitting for her to cry for the pain she inflicted… for the life she took, for the anguish she caused her family, for the dilemma she placed her friends in.

She cried a month's worth of tears in forty-eight hours.

Obviously, the medical staff at the hospital was more than disturbed by her endless tears. Both her feverish, breathless moaning and her silent, detached sobbing were an utter mystery to human science. So every few hours, some doctor or nurse came in, asking questions about whatever aches and pains she might feel. And far too often, the psychologist specializing in post-traumatic stress came to see her for tea and a few questions.

Even though the sessions were meant to help her, they only made her weary and frustrated. That, coupled with the house arrest she suffered in the hospital, put her on edge. Thankfully, Zordon continued to checked on her regularly, giving her updates on the research he had performed on the Flame of Destruction…that apparently abandoned her some point after her last, desperate attack.

Either it abandoned her, or it had gone dormant. There was no way to tell for sure… but there was no sense in concerning herself about possibilities when she had very real problems with which to contend.

Her brief exchanges with Zordon had been the highlight of the past two days. She had grown tired of the piteous gazes her relatives bathed her in, or the suspicious glances she'd sometimes discern from nurses or doctors. A true professional would probably discern she was lying about her lack of memories…fortunately

, Zordon was able to give her the advice she needed to make her story sound plausible.

And so she sat, propped up against the raised back of the bed, Tommy's bear nestled in her arms, tears pouring down her clammy cheeks in an endless river. Outside, she could see the pristine blue sky, spotted with a few clouds and flocks of birds. On the streets, groups of pedestrians flowed along the sidewalks, framing cars that streaked down the wide road.

Life had gone on, just as always, during her absence. Could she really

just reinsert herself into normalcy, and live her life unaffected by the past few weeks? After becoming the Flame of Destruction, could she be truly human

again?

Could she heal?

A knock at the door drew her attention. "Come in," she called, not looking away from the bright summer day outside.

Her oldest friend stepped into the room. Despite the colorful flowers that overflowed every flat surface, and the bright sun flooding the entire area, there was a congested, somber air that just had

to be chased away. "Hey Kim, look what I brought!"

Kimberly glanced up at Jason's voice, misty eyes widening when three familiar, much-missed faces peeped through the cracked open door.

"Whassup, Kim?"

"Salutations!"

"Hi, Sis."

Kim's excited squeal escaped as a sob as her closest friends since elementary school enveloped her in a tight, fervent group hug.

"Oh gosh, guys," Kim murmured, "it's so great to see you! What are you doing here?"

Trini sat on the bed beside her friend. "Are you kidding? We've been worried sick since we found out what happened."

"Yeah," Zack added, "Bad news travels fast, and the disappearance of one of America's Pan-Global champions gets all the way to the land of pocketknives and fancy watches."

"And even a little further," Billy added with a meek grin.

Kim swallowed a wave of fear before it was released as a shaky gasp. "H…how much do you guys…know

?"

"Everything I know," Jason confirmed. "There are no secrets among this group."

She nodded, suddenly dejected.

"What's with the long face, Kim?" Zack demanded, nudging her arm. "You think we're holding a grudge?"

"W…well, not a grudge," she stammered quietly, "but…something

. I mean, guys…I almost married Lord Zedd. I tried my best to kill the Turbo Rangers. I…I killed

a man, just because he was there

."

Billy grimaced. "There are a vast array of malevolent forces in the universe, that may influence even the most benign of hearts. The Aquitian Rangers accumulated numerous accounts of such enchantments, hexes, malicious spirits, and the like. While they all differ, there is one constant: the will of the victim is warped. Not in all cases