Afterworld

by Lynnette Lounsbury

  Persephone watched her also. ‘Who are you? You are not human. Why are you here with the boy?’

  Deora stayed silent.

  ‘She is Deora and is part-Nephilim. She has been here before.’ Dom watched both the women carefully. He knew he was missing something. Anubis moved closer and when Dom looked at him he saw . . . eagerness. What was going on?

  ‘You are not part-Nephilim. You are not Nephilim at all. You should not be here.’ Persephone’s actions were faster than Dom’s eyes could take in. She had her bow in her hands and an arrow directed at Deora’s heart in an instant. Deora’s face twisted into a smile and she reached out her hand to grab the arrow. Before Dom could do anything Persephone fired the arrow.

  ‘No!’ Dom leaped forward to push Deora out of the way, but he was far too late. The golden arrow had buried itself in her torso. She didn’t fall, but she stumbled slightly at the impact before righting herself. She looked at Dom, sighed heavily and then gripped the end of the arrow, jerking it heavily from her flesh. He flinched.

  ‘Are you okay, Deora?’

  Persephone moved towards him and spoke rapidly. ‘Go. Find your friend and finish the Maze. Leave now.’

  ‘I can’t leave without Deora. Why did you do that?’

  ‘Go!’ Her voice was insistent.

  Deora’s pale face was tight, but she was still standing, the arrow in her hands. He couldn’t leave her with these two. Moving closer he reached out to check on her injury and stopped. He couldn’t see where the arrow had hit her. Her white dress, though dirty and ripped from their journey, was still white.

  ‘Deora? What happened?’

  Anubis snarled and spread his wings, taut and ready to fight.

  Deora spoke to the Angel in a quiet, firm voice. ‘Not yet.’ And then she was gone. She didn’t turn or walk away. She simply vanished. He turned to Anubis and found only the original stone statue of the god he had seen when he had reached the tunnel intersection. Spinning around, he was relieved to find Persephone still standing on his other side.

  ‘What happened? Where is she? Why the hell did you shoot her?’

  ‘She is not good, Dominic, and she is not meant to be here. Trouble is coming and you need to finish the Maze before it does.’ Her eyes were worried, shadowed.

  ‘I know Deora, and no, she is not the best person. But why shoot her? Where did she go? What is going on with her and Anubis?’

  Persephone sighed and contemplated the dark trinity of tunnels. ‘I did not know he would go this far. I knew he was discontent, but this?’ She looked back at Dom and her eyes attempted a smile. She grasped his arm. ‘Deora was not harmed, Dominic. I was testing a thought I had, that was all. You must continue alone. Take the path you were drawn to – it will lead you to the River, where you will have a task to perform. A challenge you have prepared for.’ She reached down and held his injured arm, her hands warming him at first, and then stinging like acid. After a brief moment, she released his arm and gracefully disappeared down the tunnel she had come from.

  Dom could barely move with the thoughts swirling through his mind, and he was acutely aware of his solitude. It was the first time since he had died that he was truly alone with his thoughts, and they weighed him down like an anchor. Filling his legs with lead. Cementing him to the stone floor of the Maze.

  After a few moments, he took a deep breath and put one foot forward and then the other, willing himself onward. Every decision was his to make, and he smiled a little, knowing that he was finally responsible for his own actions. He had to plan every step. There was no backup, and it felt good.

  It was then he realised that the stinging in his arm had faded and he unwound the limp, bloodied bandage to find that it was completely healed.

  7

  Dominic’s Hourglass

  4705 Minutes

  His eyes did not want to open. And when he finally managed to drag his eyelids apart and focus, a flood of confusing memories forced him to shut them again. There was a dull, repetitious thudding echoing through his brain. The Maze. He was still in the Maze. Dom stretched and found that he had a stiff neck, a sore shoulder and a headache from sleeping on the cold stone floor. It was like being alive again, this constant discomfort. Then he panicked, ripping his hourglass from the tattered satchel that still hung across his body. He stared at the gentle flow of silver liquid from one sphere to the other. He had been asleep for over a day! That time could have been spent searching for Eva. Or at the very least, getting further away from Anubis.

  He pushed himself upright. Pulling a torch from his backpack he tested the tightly packed straw and wood. It was still a little damp in the middle but the outer edges might catch. Using his flint, he waited impatiently as it slowly glowed, smoked and finally ignited. As the room lit up he realised he had come to the end of a tunnel and with a few more steps would walk through a doorway that appeared to lead outside the labyrinth of tunnels.

  Walking quickly through the doorway he found himself looking onto a pebbly beach. The light outside was brighter, but still dim enough that it seemed like very early morning. There was very little colour that he could discern, only shades of grey and black. There were no trees or grass, but there was a very wide, swiftly flowing river not far from him. Across the expanse of pebbled rock. The River was very dark, but within the water was something that glowed. The lights were brilliant, shimmering whites and pale blues, and he trudged across the stones to the edge of the water to get a better look.

  Down in the water Dom saw something that made him instantly cold. They were people. Humans, deathly pale, floating just under the water, their eyes milky and their faces twisted in sadness. Leaning in closer he realised the layers of humans went hundreds deep in the water; there must be millions of them in the depths. Without realising it, his foot, still clad in the thick boots he had worn for the Trials, touched the edge of the water. Suddenly, the faces turned towards him and a dozen hands clawed out of the water for his leg. Leaping backwards, he clambered on his hands and knees away from the phantoms, shivering with revulsion. The arms clawed at the shore, then slid silently back into the current and continued floating past.

  Sitting on the stones, panting heavily, Dom gazed at the shapes flickering past, their eyes turning to watch him as they slipped through the water. It was the creepiest thing he had ever seen. The Lost Souls. It came back to him as he watched them swirling around in the water. Eva had told him about them. People who were so unhappy with their lives they couldn’t move on into death, they just washed along with the current. He was supposed to help one of them in some way. Craning his head forward he looked closely. Their skin, whether white, black or any other shade, was pale under the water, lit from within by some sort of luminescence. They all looked the same; all had long hair, withered muscles; watery, wrinkled skin. How could he know who to help? And how could he help them anyway?

  He searched for the tunnel exit, in case he needed to make a hasty retreat. It was gone. There was no doorway in the huge stone structure that flanked him, it was sheer stone that soared upwards a hundred feet or more, and out to either side as far as he could see. The thudding continued in his head, and even when he tried to shake it away, the sound continued. Perhaps it wasn’t in his head. It was such a familiar sound. He got up, and giving a wide berth to the water’s edge he explored along the edge of the Maze wall following the sound.

  A smile broke across Dom’s face as he caught sight of something through the mist. A young man was playing basketball. It was so familiar a notion that it almost brought tears to Dom’s eyes. The player was probably a little older than Dom, a little taller and his skin was darker, but otherwise they could have been at school together. Could have been team-mates. The player was shooting a ball at a tattered ring and net attached to the Maze wall.

  ‘Hey!’ Dom called, knowing he should be cautious, but unable to contain himself.

  The player looked up without any real enthusiasm. ‘Oh, hey man. You wanna play? I could u
se the company. It’s been a while.’ He tossed the ball to Dom, who reacted out of instinct and caught it. Twisting, he jumped and threw up a perfect shot, smiling with deep nostalgia at the sound of the net swishing.

  ‘I’m Dom.’ He grinned, pathetically glad to be with another human, especially another American.

  ‘Damon. Nice shot.’ He smiled a little, on one side.

  The two took turns shooting the ball and even though Dom knew minutes were slipping away, it felt so right to be doing something he was good at, something that had always calmed him. He wasn’t able to stop just yet.

  ‘Are you waiting?’ Dom asked.

  ‘Waiting?’ Damon looked at him. ‘For what?’

  ‘For one of those people in the River. To help them get across.’

  ‘Is that what we are supposed to do? I didn’t know. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. I don’t even know where I am.’ He grinned and threw up another shot. ‘But I had a ball. And there was a ring.’

  Dom watched him land another shot. His aim and form were perfect. ‘Were you a pro? You know, back in life.’

  ‘Life?’ Damon’s expression was blank, but he settled on the words he did understand. ‘A pro? No, not yet. I just finished high school. But I got offered a full scholarship to Boston U, so hopefully, yeah. One day.’

  Dom narrowed his eyes. ‘You do know . . . We are, you know . . .’

  ‘What?’ Damon narrowed his own eyes and Dom was disconcerted. It was like gazing into a mirror. Damon smiled again. A sad, lost smile. ‘Dreaming? I know. Which is weird since I’ve never met you before. You usually dream about people you know.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Dom rubbed his face. How did Damon get here without knowing he was dead? Surely he had to go through the Necropolis. There would have been a Guide, a Guardian, Enoch. He didn’t want to be the one to explain.

  Damon sat down. ‘You want something to eat? I have some fries.’

  Dom’s mouth salivated instantly. ‘Fries! Where the hell did you get fries?’

  Damon opened a paper bag that was sitting on the ground nearby and held it out. ‘I don’t know. Sorry. Like I said – this is some sort of dream, I think. Things just appear. I have these dreams a lot. Where I know it’s a dream. They make me tired actually.’ He rubbed his eyes. Dom’s empathy wasn’t as strong as his hunger and he shoved a handful of the warm, fried potato chips in his mouth. They tasted so good he almost fell to his knees.

  ‘Here, man, have the rest. Not really hungry.’ Damon sat on the pebbled ground, folding his long legs up and resting one elbow on them.

  Dom ate his fill while he watched the other boy. There was a strange synergy between them, as though he should know who the boy was. But he didn’t recognise him and he’d had the same déjà vu feeling when he had met Persephone. It must be an Afterworld thing, feeling as though everyone he met was someone he knew. Still, he was reluctant to let it rest. He had felt that Eva looked familiar and she had turned out to be Angie’s daughter. Things did seem to be very interconnected here.

  ‘Damon, if I tell you something, man, I don’t want you to freak out, okay?’ He wiped grease from his mouth.

  Damon looked at him. ‘What?’

  ‘This isn’t a dream.’ Dom searched for the right words. ‘It’s kind of worse than a dream really. It’s real. And we’re—’

  The words were flung from his mouth as something grabbed him from behind and began dragging him across the rocks. He clawed the ground, but found only handfuls of smooth pebbles that slipped through his fingers as he was pulled closer and closer to the River.

  ‘Help, Damon!’ he screamed, turning to see what had hold of him. It was one of the River bodies, wet, slimy, pale and milky eyed. It was opening its mouth as though trying to say something, but all that came out was dripping water. He kicked and swiped at it, but the creature’s grip was a vice and it was moving lizard-like across the beach closer and closer to the water. ‘Damon! Man – get this thing off me.’

  He saw his new friend clamber to his feet, shaking his head as though he expected to wake up. Sprinting across the beach, Damon kicked at the creature with his long legs, tearing at its arms to make it let go. It did and turned on him, grasping and making a gurgling screeching sound as it pushed him away. Dom scrambled sideways to get out of the way and tried to get to his feet, but the creature didn’t seem interested in Damon and it was grabbing at Dom’s boots and legs, trying to find purchase. They were close to the River and Dom saw several other faces rising out of the water, arms reaching and scraping their way towards the edge through the morass of bodies. Damon was crouched down prying the creature’s arms off Dom’s legs. It spat water at him and flung a wild arm at his head, tearing the skin near his eye. Damon swore at the creature, put his hands on the ground and kicked out hard with his leg, catching it in the head and knocking it violently back into the water. Dom flipped himself to his feet and the two of them bolted away from the edge until they reached the Maze wall. There was still no visible door, but they kept close to the wall and ran until they came to a place that was further from the water. None of the Lost Souls seemed to be following them, but Dom was vigilant, pushing on until they reached a place where the beach was much wider. Finally, he collapsed on the ground panting.

  Damon wiped blood from his head. He raised an eyebrow at Dom sarcastically. ‘So – not a dream, you were saying? Really?’

  Sighing, Dom lay on his back and stared up at the greyish sky. It was unsettling to be in a natural environment and look up into a dead sky. Not a star, not a single cloud or the slightest change in hue, marked it. It was more a roof than a sky.

  ‘We’re dead. Not dreaming. Dead. I died when a truck hit my car. So did my sister.’

  Damon didn’t seem as surprised as Dom had expected. Just disappointed. ‘Dead. I hoped, maybe . . .’ He cupped his chin in his hands. ‘I had thought of that. But, this is . . . this isn’t what I thought would happen . . . you know, after you die.’

  Dom smiled ruefully. ‘Me either, man. I don’t know why you’re here though – you should have been to this whole other world where someone would help you understand it all.’

  ‘I just woke up here on the edge. I still had my basketball. There was another girl here, too. She just cried and cried and I couldn’t get her to say anything. In the end she just walked into the water and floated away.’ He turned to Dom. ‘I thought I might wake up. In a hospital or something. The girl wasn’t your sister. She was a white girl.’

  ‘I know. My sister’s Asian, anyway. Adopted.’ Dom explained. Then his brow furrowed. ‘Why did you think you would wake up in a hospital? Were you in an accident, too?’

  Damon was silent, but his eyes clouded. ‘Do you think we end up in there?’ He pointed at the water. ‘Those zombies freaked me out. They’re like Army of Darkness scary.’

  Dom laughed. ‘Old school. Can’t believe you watched that film! It’s one of my favourites.’

  Damon pulled a face. ‘It’s not that old school. Few years.’

  Dom stopped laughing, a strange thought running through his mind. ‘Hey, who won the NBA finals this year?’

  ‘Bulls. Did you miss it? Jordan hit a 20-footer to win. Was awesome.’ He grinned as he reminisced.

  Dom didn’t know what to say. He glanced at Damon and then at the darkness around them. It couldn’t be possible. There wasn’t any gentle way to say it. ‘The last time Chicago won a series was sixteen years ago.’

  ‘Huh? What do you mean? It was, like, three weeks ago.’

  ‘I think you’ve been here longer than you think.’ The boys considered each other for a long moment. Damon’s face was tired. Worn. Sad even.

  ‘Not sixteen years though. Not sixteen . . .’

  Dom didn’t know what to say. He felt a strong kinship with the older boy. They were in this strange, dark place together. And he knew what it was to feel deeply sad. Dom realised that he didn’t feel like that anymore. He felt okay. Light. He wondered when that had
happened.

  He looked back at Damon. The boy’s eyes were filled with tears. They hadn’t spilled, he was fighting them, but the boy was miserable.

  ‘Where you from?’ It was a lame question, but Dom wanted to distract him.

  ‘D.C. Never really been anywhere else. A few ball trips to Boston. New York.’

  ‘I was born in D.C.’ Dom smiled. ‘Maybe we walked past each other once.’ He thought about it. ‘Except I would have been a baby.’ Damon smiled a little at that and Dom took it as encouragement to keep talking. ‘How did you die?’

  ‘Gunshot. I think.’ Damon’s brow furrowed. ‘I can’t remember it very clearly. I think I might be making it all up. It seems so . . . bad.’

  ‘Well it would be a pretty bad memory – being shot.’

  Damon snorted a little, a sad half-laugh. ‘I think I shot myself, man.’ He seemed a little confused. ‘I think I shot myself in the head.’

  Dom was silent. There wasn’t any good response to that revelation. He had felt depressed many times in his life. A deep, long, tiring depression and yet he had never seriously considered killing himself. He had no wisdom to offer.

  Damon continued. ‘I’ve thought about it a lot. I thought it was a dream at first, but the moment keeps coming back to me. I was under the bridge near my home. I lived with my uncle. I didn’t have parents. I can’t remember why not, I just remember someone called Uncle Mack. Anyway, I was under the bridge. And I had a gun. And I think I had done something really bad.’ He stared into the twilight and then turned back to Dom. ‘I think I killed someone.’

  ‘It’s probably just, you know . . . that you feel guilty for killing yourself. I’m sure you didn’t kill anyone.’ Dom wasn’t sure at all, but he had no idea what else to say. He had realised, however, that Damon was clearly the person he was supposed to Guide across the River. This was his Lost Soul. And it terrified him. What could he possibly say to make Damon feel okay, if he had felt bad enough in life to have killed himself? Dom said the first thing he could think of. ‘What school did you go to?’