Soul Insurance

by Glenn Bullion

  "Hey, we got some light. Thanks there, little dead person."

  Amber looked up at Brooke, only for a moment, before doing what the living typically did, and forget she was there. If Amber could see the anger, the disappointment in Brooke's eyes, she might have held her gaze a little longer.

  "Come on, move it," Amber said. "I still have to set the alarm."

  "Maybe if you'd be a doll and open the back of the van, this would go a little faster."

  "I'm not doing anything. I've done enough."

  "Then keep your mouth shut while the men work here."

  They loaded the body into the back. The redhead climbed into the passenger's seat while his partner counted money. He handed it to Amber, who shoved it in her pocket.

  "Until next month."

  "No," she said. "It'll have to be two months."

  "Did you already forget what happens when you back out—?"

  "I'm not backing out. Clean your ears. It has to be two months. My boss is already suspicious. I have to let things die down for a little while. Oh, and let's not forget, I kind of don't have a place to live right now. I have to get back on my feet."

  "I'll deliver the message. I'm sure he'll be in touch."

  "You be a good pet, and do that."

  He smiled. "You can act that way, like you're a victim, and we're the bad guys, but you're just as involved in all this as the rest of us."

  "I'm nothing like you."

  "Of course you are. You work for our boss now, just like us. What happened to your friend, that was your fault. Amber, you're stealing. You're a thief, now. And I'm not just talking stealing office supplies. You're stealing very expensive merchandise from a business. It's all very risky, and sometimes people get hurt. Make sure you're not one of them."

  Amber kept her expression even, but Brooke knew better. Even from her vantage point, she could see Amber's shoulders stiffen, her jaw tense slightly. She was raging inside.

  "Look," the bald man said. "It's not too late if you want to…you know, meet up somewhere."

  Amber scoffed and turned on her heels. She disappeared inside Soul-Ful as the man laughed and climbed into the van. Brooke pictured the layout of Soul-Ful in her head. Amber would have to pass the lab and go back to the lobby to turn on the alarm. Brooke hoped Connor was already out of the building and moving his car.

  The van pulled away from Soul-Ful. Brooke swooped down and went through the side door. She crouched, looking at the bundle of blankets near her feet. A hand stuck out from the pile. She knew the body was never alive, but was unsettled anyway.

  The redhead turned in his seat. "Hey, look, we've got a passenger."

  "Sorry, there, little spirit. That body's not for you."

  "Do you ever wonder if they're like your family or something? Or maybe people you've offed before?"

  "Nope, but I do wonder how many times you're gonna bring it up. You're never gonna know, so shut up about it."

  "I'm just saying. No need to be a dick."

  Brooke listened to their meaningless talk as they navigated the streets. She tried to lock away any piece of information she could about them. The redhead was Andy, the bald one was Max. They seemed to be friends, and not just partners, as they talked about each other's families, things going on in their lives. Max was apparently breaking up with his girlfriend, while Andy was putting his father in a nursing home.

  Neither one of them spoke of who they worked for, or anything further of why they had a body in the back of the van.

  Andy looked over his shoulder at Brooke again. "That soul's giving me the willies. Why is it just sitting there?"

  "Who knows? Maybe it can't fly. I've seen some stay near the ground a lot."

  "Shoo. Go away."

  "It's not a dog. I don't think it'll listen to shoo."

  "Hey, stop at this gas station. I want to get something to eat."

  Brooke frowned in disgust as the pair parked and left the van. People were living their lives all around them, getting gas and shopping. They were unaware that a body meant for a resurrection was ten feet away. She poked her head through the side of the van to see souls enjoying themselves as well. A couple floated above the store, flirting and laughing. A group of men flew slowly across the street, one of them flying backwards so he could face his friends. None of them could help her get revenge on the two men who set her apartment on fire.

  They had murdered her.

  Rage and despair started to overwhelm her. Her life wasn't cut short because of an accident. She was murdered, all because her best friend had gotten involved in something she shouldn't have. Amber didn't go to the police. She didn't seek any help. She left Brooke alone to die in her burning home.

  Brooke remembered Amber's attitude the days before her death. She was moody, picking fights for no reason, distracted. Now Brooke knew why. She had no doubt Amber was responsible for Isabel's body disappearing.

  Amber. Her best friend.

  She wiped at her eyes as Andy and Max climbed back in the van, their arms full of snacks. Andy took a bite of a candy bar as he looked at Brooke.

  "Look, I'm not going anywhere until that soul leaves."

  "Or what? What are you gonna do? Kick its ass?"

  "I just might."

  "Hey, maybe it's a female, and if you're real nice, it'll hop up and down on your lap."

  "Shut up."

  Max started the car. Andy grabbed his arm. "I'm serious. Don't move until it's gone."

  "You're an asshole."

  Brooke rose to her feet and jumped through the roof, floating above them. She didn't want to hear another word out of their mouths anyway. She just wanted to know where they were going.

  She followed closely at first, but the busyness of the streets and the souls around her were distracting. She rose to slightly above the roofs, until her stomach told her to stop. The noise was easier to handle, and she kept the van in her sight.

  They drove for nearly ten minutes, and Brooke couldn't imagine what they were doing. Would they hand the body off to another person? Take it to another lab?

  "Excuse me, lady? With the glasses?"

  The voice came from behind her. Brooke tried to ignore it and focus on the van, but saw the light catching up to her out of the corner of her eye.

  "Hey, pretty lady, slow down."

  The van stopped at a red light, and Brooke turned to look at a soul next to her. An older gentleman, wearing a suit and tie.

  "I'm sorry, I just saw you passing by, and was hoping you could help me. I'm a little lost. There's this restaurant somewhere around here where I'm supposed to meet someone—"

  "Look, I don't think I can help you."

  "Please, I'm not from around here."

  Brooke looked back to the van, and her jaw fell when she saw it was gone. The light was green, and traffic moved in all directions.

  "I have to go. I'm sorry, I can't help you."

  She dove as fast as she could to where the van was, hovering over the intersection. She drew looks from other souls. One even whistled at her from the ground. She ignored them and searched for the van, but saw nothing.

  Looking up, her stomach started to rumble at the thought of what she had to do.

  Brooke flew straight up, above the rooftops and the streets below. The conversations grew quieter as the wind seemed to grow louder. She remembered Connor telling her how some souls traveled, by flying to extreme heights, before coming down at a different angle.

  The problem was most heights were extreme for her.

  She stopped just before she reached a cloud moving past her, and swallowed hard before looking down. The cars and buildings below were smaller, but still large enough to see where they were going. She almost felt like she'd fall at any moment, but she hovered, wavering back and forth in the wind. She could see most of the town, and the highway leading to the city. The Light Rail was moving along slowly. The lights were beautiful. If she weren't so afraid she'd probably have marveled at the experience more.
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  It took her several minutes of searching to spot what she was looking for.

  Two men were leaving what looked like a small warehouse surrounded by a fence. A van was parked near a dock door. The headlights of the van came on as it slowly pulled away.

  Brooke took a breath, and descended as fast as she could. She angled for the warehouse, and held her glasses to her face, even though that was pointless. She passed through part of a roof and stopped four feet above the ground, directly in front of the van. It kept driving, and she saw Andy's panicked expression as she passed through the windshield.

  "Hey! Look out for that spirit!"

  "Why? It's not like—"

  That was all Brooke heard before the van went completely through her. Everything happened so fast, but she did manage to look down as the van went by. The body was gone.

  Brooke landed on the street and watched the van as it turned the corner. Her heart beat in her chest, but she slowly felt better as she spun and stared at the warehouse. It was good to be on the ground once again.

  She walked through the locked gate, and then the dock door. Sighing, she put her hands on her hips. She could see nothing. Her own light let her see a few feet in front of her, but no lights were on, and there were no windows. She would have to wander aimlessly in the dark, waving her hands in front of her to even get a glimpse of what was stored in the warehouse.

  Her adventure for the night was coming to an end. She'd have to wait until morning.

  *****

  Connor drove around the block for a second time. Amber's car was parked outside the bar. Souls floated freely above, while people and spirits alike left and entered the place. He took a deep breath before climbing out of his car. He remembered telling Brooke before he wasn't fond of bars.

  Two souls hovered near the open front door. They laughed quietly as Connor walked under them.

  "I'd get drunk too if I drove that car."

  They laughed together. Connor kept his head low.

  "Funny," he whispered.

  The bar was full of people and souls. A group of men played pool in the corner while a few souls looked on. Two souls floated near the end of the bar, one of them crying about lost love. Connor had trouble filtering out the noise as laughter and conversations from souls and people attacked his ears.

  Amber sat alone with her back to him near the middle of the bar. She drew looks, but no one approached her. They were happy to admire from a distance. Sitting on the bar next to her was the same stuffed bear Connor had seen in her basement, wearing a pair of glasses.

  He took the stool next to her in front of the bear, shifting it aside slightly so he could rest his elbows.

  "Don't you touch that bear!" Amber hissed. "And how many times do I have to say it? Leave me the hell—"

  She stopped mid-shout as she turned and recognized Connor. Her cheeks were red, her eyes stained red from tears. Despite the fact she was on her way to a drunken night, she was still attractive. Connor could imagine how many guys approached her while he was circling the block, all in the name of consoling her, and also her reaction to keep them at bay.

  "Connor," she said, quickly wiping at her eyes.

  "Hi, Amber."

  The bartender stopped by, giving the bear a quick glance, before asking Connor and Amber if they needed anything.

  "We need more drinks," Amber said. "We need three shots, one for me, the bear, and my friend here."

  Connor shook his head. "Nothing for me, please."

  Amber offered a smile, but was either unwilling or unable to make eye contact. She kept her gaze focused on the bar in front of her.

  "Did you change your mind about practicing in the bedroom?" She looked down at her shorts and tight shirt. "I'm not really looking my best, but give me a few minutes and I could make you drool."

  "It sounds like someone is already feeling the alcohol."

  "Not yet. I'm still working on that."

  Connor felt sorry for her, a feeling he didn't expect. He fought anger as he followed her from Soul-Ful, and didn't even want to imagine what Brooke was going through. But seeing her drowning her sorrows, fighting her conscience, he had no doubt the person most angry with Amber was herself.

  "So," he said, lowering his voice. "When did you start stealing bodies out of your work?"

  Amber stiffened only for a moment before tracing her finger around her empty shot-glass. Her hair fell in front of her face, hiding her features.

  "You saw?"

  "Yeah. I was there."

  "You just hang around closed businesses at night?"

  "Doesn't everyone?"

  She laughed quietly, and then her eyes fell on the stuffed bear. Her face wrinkled as she cried once again.

  "I made the biggest mistake of my life."

  The bartender put another shot in front of her. Connor thought of taking it from her, but decided against it.

  "Tell me," he said gently.

  "Do you know what they do with the bodies that aren't used in soul resurrection?"

  "A friend told me they're usually used for organ donations."

  "That's part right, but really, they do whatever they want with them. The people brought back to life don't care what they do, why would they? Sometimes they're donated for organs, sometimes science labs, and sometimes, absolutely nothing happens to them. They sit at a cryo-factory somewhere and rot."

  Connor nodded. "So, you thought you could make some extra money, and who would miss the occasional extra body? Is that it?"

  "I like my job, and I like the people, but I'm not going anywhere there. I never will. About six months ago a guy called me up and laid everything out, made it sound real simple. All I had to do was move a body to the lab and open the doors. They'd do the rest."

  It wasn't difficult for Connor to put the rest of the pieces together.

  "You changed your mind, and they didn't like that, so they burned down your apartment."

  "They killed Brooke," she said, breaking down. "They killed my best friend."

  He gave her a moment before speaking. "Okay, then do something about it. Let's go to the police, right now."

  She laughed sarcastically. "The police? And tell them what? I don't even know their names. I've never met their boss. Even if I wanted to, can you imagine what they'd do to my mother, the rest of my family?"

  "Look, Amber, what you need to do—"

  "Connor, listen, you're cute, and I appreciate the pep-talk and everything, but the only thing I plan on doing right now is getting very drunk."

  She went quiet, and Connor noticed his shadow change direction on the bar, as a new light source appeared behind him. He turned to see a soul floating near the open door.

  "It's getting easier to teleport to you," the familiar voice said. "I tried focusing on Amber, but all I could see was red."

  "Brooke—"

  "You were my best friend! I was killed because of you! I'm dead, and you're getting wasted in a bar. What do you have to be upset about? At least you're still alive."

  Brooke floated directly behind Amber, moving back and forth. She even touched Amber a few times. Connor guessed Brooke was hitting her, taking out her rage.

  Amber felt the presence behind her and spun on her stool. She leaned back at the invasion of personal space.

  "Whoa. What's this soul's problem?"

  "My problem? What do you think my problem is?"

  Brooke left the bar through the open door. Connor followed her, leaving Amber behind. A couple leaving their car looked at Connor strangely as he chased the soul. Brooke dropped close to the ground, her soul shaking slightly just over the gravel. He knew she was on her hands and knees, crying.

  He dropped to one knee next to her and ran a hand along her soul. He felt nothing, and knew Brooke couldn't either, but he'd try anything to make her feel better. Her laughter warmed his heart, and her tears had the exact opposite effect.

  "It's all her fault," Brooke said. "I'd still be alive if it wasn't for her."
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  He opened his mouth to say something, but had nothing to say. He wished he could simply hold her. She cried quietly on the ground.

  "We'll get through this," he said. "We'll get them put in jail."

  "Connor? What in the hell are you doing out here, talking to a soul?"

  He looked up to see Amber approaching, stumbling as she walked. Brooke stopped crying as she floated up to a normal height once again.

  Brooke's voice shook with rage. "You…."

  "You should have bought soul insurance," Amber told Brooke.

  "Connor, I'll see you later."

  Brooke flew up before he could protest. He watched her until she vanished over the rooftops.

  "People are gonna look at you really weird, if you keep talking to souls like that. I must be getting drunk, because I thought I heard you call her Brooke."

  "Let's pretend you could talk to her, if you wanted to, that her soul was still around. What would you say?"

  Her eyes welled up with tears. "I'd tell her I love her, and I'm so sorry. I'd beg for her forgiveness."

  "Keep that in mind."

  CHAPTER 13

  The nightmare was different. It had some of the same elements as always. Connor was there, as were his parents, and Mike Burns. But Brooke was also there, in both forms that Connor knew her. She was her beautiful self, auburn hair just past her shoulders, a pair of glasses. She was also a soul.

  Mike Burns killed his parents, like he always did. After they lay in a pool of blood, Mike Burns turned his attention to Brooke and her soul. Brooke called Connor's name as Mike Burns stabbed her, over and over. There was nothing he could do.

  Connor sat up in bed, the nightmare fading away. A soul hovered near the edge of the bed, bathing the room in a soft light. Brooke was gently calling his name. It was her voice he heard deep in his sleep.

  She moved to his side. "You were having a nightmare."

  He took a deep breath and glanced at the time. It was past two in the morning. He hadn't seen Brooke since she left Amber and him outside the bar.

  "Mike Burns, as always," he said. "You were there this time, and he…."