Death Calls

by Al K. Line

  "What are you guys doing here?" I asked, nonplussed.

  "Beats me," said Vicky looking bored, because it was boring here.

  "This is so awesome," said Jake, staring around at the nothingness like he'd landed in a room coated in coke.

  "I hate this place so much," said Gavin, turning his lip up and vibing the pebbles as though he could melt them with a good glare.

  I couldn't figure it out. I was here without having been killed again. Of course I was. I'd already died, just got out of it because the entry wasn't in the book, now it was, so I was back to being dead whether I'd actually been killed this time or not. But the others? It made no sense.

  "We were all too close, too involved. We've confused things," said Gavin.

  "Don't see why." I scratched at my beard as I tried to get things straight. "I'm the chosen one, it's meant to be me. What gives?"

  "It's because I wanted to do it," said Jake, staring at the people far along the beach. "They're waiting, we need to help them."

  "And we will. Or I will. You lot can go now. I think I'll be busy for quite some time."

  "Wish we could," said Gavin, doing a little jump up and down as if it would jolt things to life and make him disappear.

  "Hey," I shouted, "I'm here. Let them go." No reply, not even thunder, or some roiling.

  Not knowing what else to do, we all took a seat and stared at the book. It sat there, open to my name, number fifty there right at the bottom corner. Nothing happened, nothing changed, nothing could be done until I had the gear on and the scythe. I wasn't Death, neither was anyone else, and already the boredom was setting in.

  Maybe we sat for a minute, maybe an hour, maybe several days or months. It was impossible to tell because everything was empty. Thoughts drifted away, time ceased to have meaning, and we became statues, immobile, lost to a zen emptiness. Many spent a lifetime trying to reach such a nirvana, but I'd happily swap it for Vicky babbling on the phone, that's how bad it was. Not bad, just nothing, but still aware of the nothing, if that makes any sense, which I know it doesn't.

  "Screw this," I said, knocking my chair over as I stood and did some glaring of my own at anything and everything. "If the bloody universe can't even decide how this works, how are we supposed to?"

  "Calm down," said Vicky, looking up at me, like she always did, and pulling that annoying sympathy smile when it's obvious the person knows you're in for a shit-storm soon enough.

  "I will not. Just as I decide I don't want this, then convince myself to do it, then change my mind, this happens."

  "That's not exactly being sure of anything," said Jake.

  "And you can shut up too," I said, giving him the evil eye. I turned to Gavin. "You got anything to say?"

  "Nope. I'm just waiting."

  "For what?"

  "Anything. Something. It can't stay like this."

  "Good, because if I'm to do this I want it over and done with."

  A splash distracted me, and I turned to the lake. Out of the mist came the hunched figure of the Boatman, hazy and indistinct as always, as slow yet fast as usual. One minute seemingly far out on the water, the next almost to the shore. His head was covered in the usual rough hessian garment, his face hidden, and yet for the first time he seemed familiar. I shook my head, just familiar because I'd seen him so many bloody times.

  Then something else unusual happened. The Boatman got out of the boat and waded though the shallows. He walked right up to us and stood in front of me, as if expecting something.

  "Um, no dead today, thank you. Maybe another time?"

  Still he said nothing, still he stood there, waiting.

  "Look, buddy, I'm not in the mood for this. Yes, you have a crap job, but there's nothing I can do about it. I have my own problems to deal with, so like I said, none of us are going with you."

  "You always were a fool," came a familiar, clipped British accent, posh-boy annoying that made my arm twitch because I wanted to slap him so much.

  "Carmichael?" I asked, shocked.

  "Yes," he hissed, like the words were difficult to speak and he was breaking the rules by uttering a word. He pulled back the cowl and there he was, same perfect haircut, same perfect skin, clear eyes, but the smirk was gone, and so it should be.

  "What the hell are you doing here? How long have you been the Boatman?"

  "Not long, yet many lifetimes," he said. "Apparently there was a contract, and I agreed to it. So I am he."

  "Yeah, whatever. Not as important as Death though, is it?" I said, now having the smirk on my face.

  "No," he said, dejected.

  I slapped him on the shoulder, feeling rather jolly, my spirits having lifted considerably. "Chin up, old bean, won't be long and then what, you get to go back?"

  "No, then I die."

  "Oh." There was an awkward silence. "Bummer."

  "Quite."

  And with that, Carmichael trudged down the beach, moving as though his trip to shore hadn't been of his own volition and he couldn't wait to escape, which was probably true, and then he was gone, rowing away until lost to sight.

  "Well, that was a turn up for the books. Um, where were we?"

  "We were waiting to see what happened," said Gavin, looking anxious.

  "Yeah, I've had enough of waiting. Either I'm doing this or I'm not. So come on," I raged into the emptiness, "what are you waiting for?"

  "I know what the problem is," said Gavin. "We have to go back. We need to."

  "Why?"

  "You'll see."

  For some strange reason I knew he was right, and so it was with a sigh I grabbed the book and said, "Let's go."

  The world darkened, everything went wobbly, and then I could smell stinky evil wizard and knew I was lying on the grass by the lake in the park and none the wiser, but that was nothing new.

  Attack!

  A mass of unwashed evil wizards piled on like a collapsed scrum; they were taking no chances this time. Buoyed by my return, and Gavin's words, I shook with delight as magic surged and the juices flowed even as I suffocated. Still clutching the book, I became aware of Gavin's magical emanations and linked up with him.

  We let rip simultaneously, a bubble of protection that thrust the evil ones away like they were shot from a cannon. Bodies erupted in all directions, including down, and we were free to breathe deeply of the freezing night air. The sound of our gasps drowned out the moans of the wizards, but not their grumbles at being bested so easily.

  They recouped fast, and already dark tendrils of the familiar magic were reaching for us, wispy fingers testing the strength of the shield we'd hastily erected. Gavin and I were powerful, but there were a lot more of them than us, and as the knocking became more insistent so it became a struggle to hold them off as they got their act together and joined forces, albeit reluctantly, and undoubtedly they'd return to hating one another soon enough.

  "What's the plan?" I asked Gavin, struggling to hold it together, him looking just as stressed.

  "The book needs a definitive answer. It's confused, uncertain, and that's not good. It's your job, but if someone else wants to do it, then maybe that's for the best. You need to decide."

  "That's it?" I asked, shocked. "That's the extent of your idea? We could have done that where we weren't being attacked by bald men with a penchant for black."

  "Doesn't work like that," he said, looking smug.

  "You like saying that, don't you?"

  "Huh?" Gavin faltered, and I felt the weight of our foes' force as he lost his grip on the shield. He tried to recover but this was a big job and we weren't exactly on top form. As I lost focus too, the elongated fingers of the dark magic thrust through the cracks in the shield and lunged for the book, gripping the tome with trembling anticipation.

  With a surge of will, I pulled away, but knew this wouldn't last long, that I wasn't up to fighting these guys, not now, not with so much to do. And so, like countless times before, I fell back on an old favorite.

  "Run?"
I asked my small posse.

  "Run," they all agreed.

  We ran. Really, really fast.

  No End in Sight

  Being chased by a group of wizards immersed in the dark arts around a park while your life and maybe everyone else's hangs in the balance is not good for your cortisol levels. I was more stressed than the time I got stuck in an elevator with Vicky for several hours and she happened to have just returned from holiday. She showed me all, and I mean all, the photos she'd taken. Endless selfies of her and the girls.

  Nonetheless, I ran for all I was worth, unsure where to go, just running to escape the wizards who were a rather sprightly bunch and annoyingly were keeping up with us. Blasts of purple and black magic shot past us occasionally, or a smoky hand would reach out and grab at me, or try to trip me by clutching at my ankles, but we kept on going and they kept on chasing.

  "How do we finish this?" I panted, turning to a very sweaty Gavin.

  "We let the book pick."

  "Huh? Look, it's me, I made the deal, it has to be me. We can't let Jake do it. No offense, but Jake's a fuck-up, a junkie, half insane, not to be trusted, and certainly not in any fit state to take on this responsibility."

  "I'm not talking about Jake. The book doesn't want Jake, but it knows there are options and it's weighing them up. I would be very happy if it was you, God knows you deserve it after all the nonsense you've pulled, but this is important. The book wants what is best, not a reluctant Death who will begrudge the job."

  "There's only me, you, Jake, and Vicky here," I said, nonplussed.

  "And I can do it," said Jake. "I need this, and the world needs me."

  "Keep running," I ordered. Vicky was strangely quiet, then so was everyone else. They looked at me funny as we ran faster to escape our pursuers. "What?" I finally asked.

  "I think he means me," said Vicky, frowning.

  "You can't do it, you've got kids." I turned to Gavin. "She can't do it. She doesn't even want to, and besides, I won't let her."

  "It isn't up to you," snapped Vicky, suddenly angry with me.

  "Hey, I'm trying to protect you," I said.

  "Maybe I do want to do it. Maybe I think it will be exciting. And maybe I need to see all the good in people. To ground me. I think I'm turning into a bad person, Arthur. I need something to make my head right again, to make me nice.

  "You are nice," I said.

  "Am I? I kill, I hurt, and I don't feel it, not like I should. Maybe I need to do this."

  "No." And I meant it. No freaking way.

  After skirting the lake once, we headed up the rise to the car park and I wasted no time grabbing a car I thought looked familiar. It should have, it was one of mine I must have left here at some point. Judging by the number of tickets, I had serious cash to fork out, but at least we had a ride and I didn't need Wand because the keys were where I usually left them.

  We piled in, and just as the evil ones reached the car park, I turned on the headlights full beam, revved the engine, and got the hell out of dodge.

  Everybody Out

  My place was out of action, what with the lack of walls, and there was no way I would let either men know where Vicky's house was. I absolutely wasn't going to the country pad either. The damn gate was still in the city place, and a worry because the house was open to all-comers, so I had to get that sorted soon, amongst a million other things. So, where to go?

  I drove to Ivan's old place of business, or one of them. He jumped from one derelict factory to another on a regular basis, so I knew we would have space, there was light as it remained a back-up bolt-hole, and hopefully we wouldn't be disturbed.

  Nobody spoke as I drove. I think we were all overwhelmed by it all. Vicky had a lot to think about, Jake was coming down hard from his high, one minute sweating, the next freezing and his teeth chattering, and Gavin seemed content insomuch as he was sure it wouldn't be him retaking up the mantle, so he was one happy camper.

  I tried to hold it together and not freak out about the possibility of Vicky doing this. I would not let that happen, no bloody way. Was it because she'd come to rescue me that the book, maybe the universe itself, had taken a shine to her and realized she would be good at the job? I didn't know, and I did not care.

  She would not have this responsibility. She would break, she would change, and I couldn't have my friend turned into a vacant monster unable to cope with the horrors of this world. Vicky was an innocent. She thought life was all rainbows and unicorns when it was thunder and demons.

  At the factory, we wandered in to the open space through a large opening where doors had long ago fallen from ancient hinges. I found the fuse box and turned on the lights. The graffiti-covered space was lit up with industrial lighting, the mountains of rusting machinery piled up at the edges not worth the time and trouble to be hauled away. But we had room to breathe, room to talk, and room to fight.

  "Sorry, Gavin, but there is no way Vicky is doing this."

  "It's not for you to decide," snapped Vicky, getting up in my face and squinting at me.

  "You have a life here," I said softly. "You have to think of the girls. If something went wrong, if you got stuck, then what would happen?"

  Vicky's features softened and she backed off. "I guess. But I don't want you to go either, Arthur. You said it yourself, you won't cope."

  "Let me do it," said Jake, still insistent.

  "No way," everyone shouted in unison.

  "Then what?" asked Vicky.

  I turned to Gavin. "I'm sorry, dude, truly I am. You can handle it, just for a while. I'll be back, promise. I'm always in trouble so it won't be long before I take over. But for now, for this life, for the time being, it's all yours."

  Without warning, I threw the Death Book right at him with every ounce of force I could muster. As the book traveled through the air, dust motes shone like distant stars, and then the book went supernova. It grew impossibly large, flared bright with the essence of a billion souls, and thudded into Gavin's chest with a sonic boom that swept the rest of us off our feet and blasted us backward onto our asses.

  "No, I can't," wailed Gavin.

  But it was already too late.

  The book knew I wouldn't do this, that I would fight tooth and nail, but that I had also made a promise that next time I would take over.

  And there was one other reason why the book, and Gavin, had no choice.

  I looked down and nestled on the palm of my hand was the sliver of paper I had torn out once before.

  Vicky peered at the scrap. "How'd you do that?"

  "I'm a wizard, so I can do magic," I said, stating the obvious.

  We turned at the scream. Gavin lost solidity, became translucent, and then flickered. His figure morphed. He wore the long, tattered, flowing robes of Death. In his hand was the infinite scythe. The cowl crawled up over his head.

  The last thing I saw was a tear fall before all emotion dried up as the cowl cast its deep shadow.

  He was gone, and the book along with him.

  The paper in my hand curled up, the edges filigreed with silver, and then it too vanished. Guess I'd truly used up all fifty now. Next time I wouldn't get away with all this cheating and subterfuge.

  "Why?" asked Vicky.

  "Because I couldn't let you do it, and I am not ready. Sometimes, I think I'm a bad man, Vicky."

  "Let's go home," she said.

  But she never said I wasn't a bad man.

  I have done many terrible things in my time; this was the worst.

  But hey, I was going to get married, and have a nice honeymoon, and I sure deserved some peace. For my sins.

  The End

  Book 10 is Empty Heart.

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