by Ami Urban
“Hey,” he said.
“Leave me alone.” I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my shoulder.
“No, wait. I need to tell you something important.”
His features were drooping and his eyes had dark circles under them.
It looked as though he hadn’t slept.
“Make it quick. But be warned, I have friends in high places.”
He twisted up his irresistibly adorable face. “Isn’t it ‘low’ places?”
In order to ignore the ribbon of want tangling around the fear in my gut, I tapped my foot on the tiled floor. “I guess if we’re splitting hairs it’s ‘alternate’ places. Get to it.”
He nodded, then scrubbed a hand across his face. “Look, you were right last night. I work for Irish Moses.”
A pang of frustration coursed through me. “You’re getting nowhere fast.”
“I’ve worked for him for two hundred and sixty years. Like it or not, I’ve got an inside to what his next move might be.”
I took a deep breath and held it as a group of students passed us. “So, is he still here?”
A sarcastic laugh escaped Martin. “Yeah, he’s still here. He’s just…” When his face paled, I knew something was wrong.
I opened my mouth to make sure he was okay, but someone screeched his name over my own comment.
“Shit. I gotta go. Can we talk later?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No! I’m not speaking to you, remember?”
But before my sentence was even finished, he was already hurrying away. “You’re doing a great job!”
I sneered after him just as a shadow fell over me. I spun around to find Justine in my space.
She stared down at me through a curtain of heavily mascara’d lashes.
“Talking to my boyfriend again, I see. After I told you not to.” She flipped her dark hair over one shoulder.
I rolled my eyes, in no mood to do battle with Princess Popular.
“Grow up, Justine. You want him so bad? Take him! I couldn’t care less!”
My heart rammed against my ribs with each beat as I pushed past her and followed a line of students to my next class.
“Just be careful, Spaz! Martin Krane comes with a kick!”
“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath, “and a shitload of baggage.”
* * *
Free period couldn’t come quick enough.
“Don’t worry about Justine,” the petite Mary said as we stood in the lunch line. “She’s just upset because Andy died.”
Serena shook her head and let out a sigh.
“Dunno why,” she cut in. “Andy and her only went out for, what? Three weeks?”
I flinched, reminding myself that Serena wasn’t going for the World’s Best English award.
“I heard they found him by the night club you guys were at last night. They said he killed himself,” Mary whispered.
“Quit gossipin’. It’s bad for you,” Serena snapped.
She had a reason to be upset.
Gossip was why she’d moved to Dallas in the first place.
Besides that, Andy hadn’t killed himself.
Sure, the news said his wrists were slit down to the bone and enough alcohol and sleeping pills were in his system to knock out a heavyweight, but Irish Moses killed him. I knew it.
“Anyway, I say you just ignore Justine. Martin’s a hunk—” Gee, where had I heard that before? “—I think you should go out with him.”
Seriously…where have I heard that before…?
“No way,” I said, putting up both hands as we moved forward in line.
“Why?” Mary grabbed a tray and slid it across the metal counter toward the lunch lady who was dolling out something brown that apparently passed for meatloaf in the state of Texas. Serena shot me a look.
“I’m only here until Saturday. There’d be no point.”
“Right. And she won’t do a long-distance thing, either, so don’t start, Mary,” Serena said.
Mary shut her mouth. For a moment, she seemed hurt. Serena had snapped at her for no reason. Mary moved down the line away from us.
“So, seriously, what’s goin’ on?” Serena leaned in to whisper in my ear.
“What do you mean?” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and refused the “meatloaf” with a wave of my hand.
“What’s goin’ on with Andy, this guy named Irish Moses, Martin, that guy last night? I could go on.”
“No, I get it,” I assured her. “The truth is, I don’t know. Wraiths can’t possess people unless they’re dead, because you can’t fit two souls in one body. So, when I found out that Andy was Irish Moses, I automatically assumed he was dead.”
“There’s no other way they can take control of a body?” she asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“So, the guy last night was a wraith, yeah?”
“Yes. And he was controlling you to get you away from the people in the club.” We moved out of the lunch line to sit at a table outside, making the excuse to Serena’s friends that we had to do some studying for skydiving.
Lucky for me, I didn’t see Justine anywhere.
We sat down and Serena adjusted herself on the hard wooden bench. “Controlling me, huh? Like Bela Lugosi controlled that bird when he was Dracula?”
“Kinda.”
“So, you’ve dealt with this Irish Moses bloke before?” She popped the top on her can of diet soda while a carrot stick dangled between her lips like a cigarette.
“Yeah. Martin was working for him and that’s how we met. I know you have all these memories of him being here for the last year, but that’s just a thought he put in your head,” I explained.
Serena stopped and gave me her full attention. “Really?”
“Yeah. He’s only been here since Monday. Like me.”
“Blimey.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
I shut my eyes and groaned as Martin dropped into the seat next to me.
“The thought-planting ability comes with the rare soul,” he said.
He looked even more tired than he had that morning.
“Where’s your fire-breathing girlfriend?” I demanded.
He shrugged.
“I put a thought in the principle’s head that she’d been writing lewd things about you on the bathroom walls.”
Serena laughed. I didn’t find it amusing.
“Unless you had proof, she’d be back by now. What did you write about me?”
“Nothing! I swear!”
I rolled my eyes.
“This isn’t a game, you know. This is serious business. Irish Moses is still around.”
“Yeah.” Martin leaned forward. Serena munched on her carrot. “Get this. When I was running away from Justine this morning—”
“I can’t imagine the things you’ve seen in the afterlife and workin’ for evil beings that sell souls to a black market for alter-dimensional creatures. And you’re scared of Justine?” Serena pointed out.
I praised her with a high-five.
“Ha, ha. Seriously, I know who he’s taken now.”
We all turned serious. “Who?” I asked.
“Do you know the PE teacher, Mr. Mays?”
“What a body to take.”
Serena’s voice took on a dreamy quality. I rolled my eyes.
Sure, the muscular, tan, formidable PE teacher with a smile that could blot out the sun was... Where had I been going with that thought?
“Okay, so someone else is dead? But not dead? I’m so confused.” I dropped my head into my hands. “Can’t you talk to him?”
“I can try. But there’s no guarantee he’s going to let slip his master plan or how he’s managing to steal bodies.
“My guess is he’s found a way to occupy the body temporarily and then he kills it when he doesn’t need it,” Martin said.
“Why would he want to get rid of the body he’s occupying? I mean, isn’t his goal to come into our dimension?”
/> “In my experience, it’s hard for wraiths to stay in one body for very long. Their souls are being constantly pulled back into their own dimension because they’re not really supposed to be here,” he explained.
“But that doesn’t make any sense, because he was only in Andy’s body for a day,” I said.
“Yeah, and didn’t you say Kevin was a wraith?” Serena added.
I shrugged. “Well, Kevin’s an exception. He quit the wraith mafia. And even though it’s not completely unheard of for wraiths to occupy bodies, what we’re looking for is how Irish Moses is doing it without murdering them first.”
Another shrug from Martin. “Good question. Maybe he’s making deals with…” Martin sat up straight and snapped his fingers. “That’s gotta be it. He’s making deals with neutrals.”
“Neutrals?” Serena wrinkled her nose.
“Neutrals are people who don’t know anything about the afterlife,” I told her. I turned back to Martin. “You think he’s getting neutrals to sell their souls to him so he can take their bodies?”
He nodded. “Sure. Once he collects his debt, the body’s up for grabs. He could swoop right in and take it.”
“Yeah, but, usually people will only sell their souls for something that would take a while to gain, right?” Serena asked. “I mean, if I were to sell my soul, I’d only do it for—”
Martin held up his index finger. “Don’t advertise, honey. And, yes, most of the time people make deals for things that have a lot of use in them. And a wraith can’t do anything until a person agrees on a deal.
“Once that person dies, the soul and body are owned by the wraith. The body’s energy is consumed, and—”
“Unless…” I cut in, crossing my arms and trying to push my thoughts along. “That’s where the ‘soul-pushing’ comes in.”
They both watched me as I stared at the wood grain on the table in front of me.
“What if Irish Moses cuts a deal with a human neutral, then, when the person agrees, he pushes or releases their soul out of the body so he can have it? He doesn’t really want their soul—only their body? Then, when he’s finished doing whatever it is he’s doing with one body, he moves onto the next…”
“That still doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do that?” Martin asked.
I shrugged.
“I don’t know. But I don’t see you coming up with any genius ideas.”
“Touché.”
“You’re both missin’ the important question, here.”
We both turned to Serena.
“Does this have anythin’ to do with me?”
Martin and I exchanged glances. “I don’t know…”
She sighed.
“I just want to know because I want to be able to live a little before I die. I mean, I was hopin’ to get laid one last time without fear.”
Martin laughed. I wrinkled my nose.
I knew she was going to say that. I was just glad she didn’t say she wanted to get high once more or binge on some booze until she couldn’t see straight.
“You’ll have your chance Friday night,” I mumbled.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Did you find a bloke, Katie?”
She was interested all of a sudden. She leaned over and poked my arm.
“Spill it!”
I almost laughed at her enthusiasm. But it caught up with me when she spoke the words my best friend used to whenever she knew I was hiding something. Suddenly, a terrible ache of longing grappled with my heart. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“It’s nothing. I’ll just be…out.”
“Yeah? With who? Don’t lie to me, Katie, I can see right through you! Is it Martin here?” She laughed.
“No!” I ignored the hurt look on his face. “I… It’s not…”
“Not what?”
“A… A…”
“Date?”
I threw my head back.
“I think it is a date!”
“With who? God, you’re killin’ me with all this suspense! I can only hope the others aren’t like you in the next dimension!”
“Kevin asked me to get something to eat on Friday night. I…I don’t know if—”
“Kevin? Kevin Carter?!” Martin braced his palms on the table.
“Kevin!” Serena squealed.
“Kevin asked you out?! Nuh! I wanted him. That’s who I was going to try and seduce. Some girls get all the luck!”
“Serena, he’s forty,” I said.
She put up her hands, her eyebrows knitting together.
“Yeah? He’s older, wiser, good looking. What have you got to lose?”
“Actually, what I’m reeling about is that he used to be my teacher.”
“Yeah?” She said it as if I were stupid.
“My high school teacher. And I’m sixteen!”
She shook her head.
“Stop trying to get out of it. I’ve known plenty of girls who dated high school teachers. You guys share a lot in common, yeah? What’s the big deal?”
Okay, maybe she had a point. So what if he was older and used to be my teacher. He wasn’t anymore. But sometimes he just pushed my buttons with that overprotective thing. “I don’t think it’s a date.”
“All right. What did he say to you?” Martin asked.
“I…uh… ‘It’s a date’.”
Serena snickered. “Then it’s a date.”
It was my turn to shake my head. “That’s just an expression in America.”
“Duh. It’s an expression in England, too. But it means the same thing. A date is a date, Katie. Trust me, when a man says something, he means it. They don’t play by the same rules as women. They don’t hide behind emotions, right Martin?”
Martin was silent.
I sighed. “Well… That being said, you can have your own room Friday night. I’ll just sleep on his couch.”
“Or in his bed.” She chewed thoughtfully on her carrot stick.
“Serena!”
I looked over her shoulder to see Julian beckoning to me from across the campus. Crap. I’d forgotten I’d asked him to meet me there. I needed to make a phone call.
I turned to Martin. “I’m still mad at you.”
“What’s new?” He sighed.
“But seeing as how you seem to want to help, I’ll take that over lack of troops any day.” He perked for a moment. Too bad I had to stomp on that.
“But! I will not leave you alone with her.” I gestured toward Serena.
“I’m not a dog!” she protested.
“Serena, go hang out with Kevin until I come back, okay?”
“Oohh…deal...”
* * *
“Martin, this isn’t my ‘friend.’ He’s actually Death Incarnate,” I grumbled as the three of us walked across the grass toward some payphones.
“He knows that,” Julian said.
I stopped dead and stared at him.
“How?”
“I’ve dabbled in death and the afterlife for two hundred and sixty years, Katie. Julian and I met a long time ago.” Martin poked him in the shoulder. Julian glared at him.
“What do you need me for, Katherine? It seems as though you have your own cheerleader, here.”
“Cheerleader?” Martin made a face.
I sighed—loud.
“Enough! I’m not a babysitter!” I turned to Julian and poked a finger into the chest of his plain black shirt. “Look, I need you here because you were there when we met with Chris. I’m going to call the house Charles’ letters came from.”
“Who’s Char—?”
I cut Martin off when I turned and pointed at him. “And I need you because I want to keep an eye on you.” He shrugged. “And Charles is Serena’s father. I’m trying to reunite them before she passes on.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I think that’s what her ultimate goal is.” I started walking again. After a second or two, their footsteps caught up.
“Didn’t you say skyd
iving was her goal?”
“That seems too easy,” I said.
We stopped at the payphone and I set my backpack down to rummage through the papers I’d collected the night before.
Thank God for the Internet—that’s all I had to say.
I was able to do a reverse lookup on the address given to me by Chris Summers.
Because of my old friend Google, I got a phone number.
“So...” Martin rocked back on his heels as I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder. “Ferry any souls lately, Death?”
I shot him a glare. Small talk with Death wasn’t normal, and yet...it was the most normal thing happening in the last few days.
Julian scowled. “Of course. I ferry souls almost every moment of every day.”
I pushed a quarter into the slot on the phone. “Is this going somewhere?”
“Any of those souls in the Dallas area?” Martin asked. I put my hands out. Thankfully I was facing away from them so they couldn’t see me roll my eyes.
“Yes... As a matter of fact, I ferried six souls in the last twenty-four hours.”
“Any of those souls students at Woodrow Wilson High?”
I dropped the phone. It clanged against the side of the booth. Then, I turned to face him. “I think you’re a genius.”
He shrugged. “I try.”
Julian put a hand to his chin in thought. “As a matter of fact...no. Why?”
“A student was found dead last night. My guardian wraith took his body over less than twenty-four hours ago. You sure you didn’t ferry anyone?”
“What was the poor fellow’s name?”
“Andy Bowdry,” I cut in, eager for the answer.
“Let me check my list...” Julian looked up at the sky for a split second, then back at us and said, “No.”
“That was weird.” I inhaled, trying to sort through my thoughts. “Wait...Death has a list?”
“Of course.” Julian shoved his hands in his pockets. “A proverbial, three-hundred-sixty-five day list of who’s going to kick the bucket.”
“And Andy wasn’t on it,” Martin replied.
“And that does happen sometimes,” Julian said. “Just like we can’t predict the weather accurately, we can’t always predict who’s going to die. But the strange thing is... I’m usually notified within a few moments when a soul that wasn’t on the list passes away so it isn’t stuck, and I still don’t recognize his name.”
