"Connor? Are you there?" she asked. "I can't see you."
The body twitched again, and Brooke was nearly gone. The lights above them fought to stay on.
"I'm here," he said, never feeling more useless in his life. He wanted to rush to her, but that would do no good. He knew Brooke wanted to live, but couldn't help feeling they made a mistake.
"I think I fell—"
The body twitched one more time, and the arm fell from under the sheet. The lights went back to full brightness, followed by an eerie quiet.
Brooke was gone.
CHAPTER 14
Brooke opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a light above her. The light of a hospital room? She held up her arm to shield her eyes, and that's when her stomach lurched.
She rolled over and fell onto a dirty floor covered with wires. Her body stiffened as she vomited what looked like water.
"Brooke?"
The voice called her name from across the room. It was familiar to her, a man's voice. Feeling returned to her body, and she was aware of wires falling away from her skin. A sheet was wrapped around her, and that was the only thing separating her from being totally nude. Her throat was dry, and she'd have given anything for a drink of water.
A pair of hands gently grabbed her shoulders and tried to steady her. She reached out, silently asking for help, and a strong grip found her. He pulled her to her feet easily, keeping one hand on her shoulder. Her hand found his chest for balance as her knees still trembled.
"Thank you." Her voice sounded different.
She looked into his eyes, and felt the ice rush into her cheeks. It was Connor, the deceptively attractive guy with a screw or two loose. The last time she'd seen him was when she foolishly visited his apartment. He claimed he could hear souls, and accused her of being some kind of reincarnated serial killer.
Now he was the only one with her in what was obviously not a hospital room.
"What's going on?" She pulled away from his grip, and a look of hurt flashed across his face. "What is this place? What have you done to me?"
She nearly lost her hold on the sheet, once again remembering she was naked. She felt exposed. Terrifying thoughts crossed her mind of what Connor could have possibly done, or planned on doing.
"Listen to me," he said, holding his hand out in a calming gesture. "You're alive."
"Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be? I…fell. I fell out of my window. My apartment was on fire. Why did you bring me here?"
She turned on her bare feet at the sound of car doors slamming outside. They were in a warehouse of some kind.
"Oh man, you've gotta be kidding me," Connor said.
Brooke opened her mouth to scream for help, but Connor was too fast. He wrapped one arm around her waist while covering her mouth. Lifting her up easily, he backpedaled among the cables, moving as fast as he could. Brooke squirmed and kicked, and she lost the sheet.
"Dammit, Brooke," Connor hissed. "Work with me here."
He kicked the sheet and sent it across the warehouse, landing near the gurney. Brooke continued to fight, but she was weak, and Connor was much stronger than he looked. She managed to open her mouth and find Connor's index finger with her teeth. She clamped down, and Connor moaned in pain, but that was it. He didn't make another sound, nor did he let her go.
He carried her behind an open cryo-tube, large enough to hide both of them, just as the door to the warehouse opened. Connor set her down, but didn't let go. She kicked back with her foot, and caught him in the shin.
"Stop," he whispered in her ear. "If they find us, I think they'll kill us. Please believe me on that."
Brooke stopped fighting. It was more than just the urgency in his voice, but the way he held her. She was completely naked, but he kept his arm around her waist, not trying to grope her, as he flexed the hand she'd bitten. In fact, almost in a show of trust, he loosened his grip a bit and tried to peer out between the cryo-tubes.
"And this is it!" a male voice shouted. "I know it's not exactly what you see on television, but trust me, it works perfectly."
"Yeah, I have to say, it is a little messy." A female voice.
"We're gonna be moving soon, expanding, spicing the place up a little, but the important thing is the end result."
Connor quietly shifted so Brooke could move in front of him. There wasn't much space between the back of the cryo-tube and the wall, and she was pressed closer to him than she would have liked. But he kept his hands to himself.
"Do you recognize them?" he whispered.
She carefully looked out to the warehouse. A tall man in a three-piece suit gracefully moved among the cables. He looked to be in his fifties, rapidly losing his hair, a confidence in his stride. He wore a bright smile. He would fit in easily with the salesmen at Soul-Ful. His guest was a beautiful woman in a knee-length skirt and high heels. He held her hand and helped her step carefully.
"These are our cryo-tubes, state of the art." He gestured in Brooke's direction. She held her breath and leaned back quickly, pressing against Connor. He wrapped his arms protectively around her shoulders. She waited for the reveal, the sound of someone noticing her and approaching, but the man simply went on with his presentation. "The power source that drives the resurrections is under the warehouse. That's the office that holds the main computer system, and…whoa."
"Did someone get sick here?"
Brooke closed her eyes in disgust. She could imagine the man and woman examining the sheet, lying near the gurney where she vomited.
After her resurrection.
The truth was swift and brutal, hitting her all at once. Brooke was standing in a stripped down, primitive version of Soul-Ful. She woke up wearing nothing but a sheet, sick and desperate for water, with a voice unfamiliar to her.
She opened her eyes and stared at her hands. It was difficult to see through the forming tears, but even her hands seemed alien.
"I apologize for the mess," the man said. "We did a resurrection just the other day, and I told my guys to clean up."
Connor leaned close to her ear. "Nice job."
She shrugged sheepishly. It was all she could do to stop from crying.
"It's okay," the woman said. "This is all very impressive, but I need to be honest. We keep avoiding talking about this, but this is all very illegal."
"You're right. Let's get that out of the way right now. This is all illegal. But you know what? So is driving seventy in a sixty zone. Smoking marijuana. Not wearing a seat-belt. All of that will get you noticed by the police. But you want to know what I think is really a crime? Denying a young girl soul insurance because she has terminal cancer."
There was silence, followed by quiet sobbing. Brooke thought it was her for a moment, as the tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her bare skin.
"I'm sorry," the man continued. "I don't mean to upset you. You have a beautiful daughter. You want to help her, and I want to help you. It won't be cheap, I'll tell you, but it won't cost anywhere near as much as the legal way. The legal way won't even take your phone calls anymore. And we'll help you. New identities, a place in a new city, everything. How old is your daughter?"
"She's eighteen." Her voice was still shaky.
"All of our bodies are twenty-one years old. It might be a little weird for an eighteen-year-old to adjust to a twenty-one-year-old body, but she'll be alive, Kara."
"This is all just so much. Please, I need to think."
"Of course. Let's get out of here. We'll have that dinner I promised you."
Their footsteps echoed across the floor, and the lights went out as they left the warehouse. Brooke jumped at the darkness, and for the first time didn't mind being close to Connor.
"Are we locked in here?" Brooke asked. "Is there an alarm?"
"No. Worst case, there's an open window in the office over there." Connor fumbled with something before a light came on in his hand. He pointed a flashlight at the wall behind them so he didn't strike her eyes. "They're gon
e. Stay right here."
"No way. I'm not staying here by myself while you go wandering off."
"Light switches are right there on the wall."
"I don't care." She found his hand and squeezed it tight.
He laughed shortly. "I thought you were scared of heights, not the dark?"
"How…did you know?"
"You told me."
Confusion settled in. Questions ran together in her mind before she could even put a thought to them. Connor led her away from the cryo-tubes, aiming the light ahead. He knew exactly where he was going.
"I'm terrified of heights," she admitted. "But it's not like I seek out the dark."
He turned on the lights, and Brooke immediately withdrew her hand and covered herself as best she could. She was still very conscious of the fact she was nude, but much more pressing concerns attacked her.
"What's going on here?" she asked.
"I'm still putting the pieces together myself."
She took the warehouse in. The cryo-tubes, the bodies, the cabling. Her eyes fell on the gurney, where she woke up not five minutes ago.
"I…died, didn't I?"
He said nothing, but his expression said it all. His eyes traveled her body, only for a moment, before his cheeks turned a deep shade of red. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a lean physique, and a scar on his shoulder.
"Uh, Connor?" Brooke said, backing up a step. "What are you—?"
He tossed the shirt at her. She caught it and immediately opened it to cover her body.
"That should be long enough to cover…you know."
His awkwardness was cute. It didn't mesh with his good looks. It reminded her of the first day she met him, outside her apartment near his car.
"Could you turn around?"
He did so, putting his hands on his hips. His shirt fit nicely. She pulled on the hem to stretch it as much as possible. It stopped at the bottom of her butt, which was better than being nude. She felt shorter than before.
She ran her hands through her hair, and stopped in shock. Her hair felt wrong. Most of it was gone.
"I need a mirror."
"We need to get out of here. I parked far away. We can stick to the woods mostly, so no one sees us. Can I turn around now?"
"Yeah."
His cheeks were still red. He glanced at her legs once, and then struggled to find something in the room to focus his gaze on. He settled for the cryo-tubes behind her, and shoved the flashlight into his backpack.
"You, uh, ready to go?"
She couldn't help but smile at him. "I'm more than ready."
*****
The ride to Connor's apartment was quiet. Brooke's feet were sore from the walk through the woods. He offered to carry her, which was perhaps the sweetest gesture anyone ever made for her. She declined, and regretted it all the way up until he unlocked his front door. The carpet felt like heaven.
So many questions were on the tip of her tongue. She simply couldn't get any of them out. Her eyes fell on the refrigerator in the kitchen, and all she could think about was how thirsty she was.
Connor said nothing as he walked past her and down the hall. She stood awkwardly near the couch just inside the apartment, not sure of what to do. She tugged at her borrowed shirt once again, not happy with the amount of skin she was showing off. It was only luck they didn't run into anyone on the way over. Connor reemerged from the hall, fully clothed, and barely looked at her as he walked to the front door.
"Wait. Where are you going?"
"To get us some food. I won't be long."
"How do you know I won't just leave?"
He thought for a moment, and smiled, which stirred the butterflies in her stomach. "I guess I don't, really. Make yourself at home."
"Hey, do you have any—" The door closed behind him. He was already gone. "Clothes."
Brooke was alone. She studied his surprisingly neat bachelor pad for a moment before rushing straight to the refrigerator. She grabbed the first can of soda she saw and drained it nearly in one gulp before grabbing another.
After peeling Connor's shirt off she searched for a hamper. She didn't find one, and could only guess it was in his room. She had no desire to invade his privacy, although he'd seen her completely naked, and set his shirt on the arm of the couch. Brooke assumed Connor's request to make yourself at home meant that a shower would be fine. She found clean towels in the hall closet.
She stopped as she saw a flash of white passing the bathroom mirror.
Her reflection actually scared her. Brooke thought it was someone else, and felt foolish when she jumped.
A beautiful, almost exotic looking woman stared back at her. Gone was the auburn hair down to her shoulders, the bangs that covered her forehead, her brown eyes. Her eyes were now a striking jade green, and almost sparkled. She hated her old skin for never tanning in the sun, but her new skin was very pale, and she had no doubt the sun would be her worst enemy.
Her hair was pure white, and very short, a pixie cut. She had a gorgeous face that could pull off the hair style. In all of the paperwork that crossed her desk, no one had ever checked the option for white hair. No one wanted to be twenty-one years old with white hair. But the body that was now Brooke's made the look stunning.
There were adorable freckles on her cheeks, and she noticed for the first time her vision was perfect. She no longer needed the glasses she'd worn since she was six years old.
Brooke spent the next ten minutes examining her figure. As she would have expected from a factory-grown body, it was pleasing to look at. Flat stomach, perky breasts, wonderful curves, tone legs, nicely-rounded butt. She couldn't prove it, but it felt like maybe she'd lost an inch of height. Still, she was absolutely gorgeous.
She burst into tears, surprising herself.
Whatever was happening was still a mystery, but she was certain of a few facts. She'd died, but somehow, had gone through a soul resurrection. She was alive. In her head, she knew she was supposed to be happy.
But her heart mourned her old body. The old Brooke was dead. The girl with terrible eyesight, the dimples when she smiled, the frustrating skin, she was gone. She'd experienced her entire life in that body. Life wouldn't be the same.
She tried to focus on the fact that at least she had life. It was finally clear why a psychiatrist consulted with every soul insurance client.
A hot shower was exactly what she needed. It was strange at first, as it felt like she was scrubbing someone else's body. She wasn't familiar with her new curves, and it took literally seconds to wash her hair. A soul flying by the apartment stopped outside the window in the shower, presumably admiring her, before flying away.
She was drying off when the front door opened.
"Brooke? Did you run away?"
It was Connor. She locked the bathroom door and gave it a quick tug. He'd been nothing but a gentleman, but no harm ever came from being careful.
"I'm taking a shower."
"Ah. Perfect timing." A moment later he was at the door. "Don't throw a fit. I'm just gonna crack the door open. I won't peek."
"What's it matter now? You've already seen everything."
"Well, not on purpose." He tried to turn the knob. "You, uh, want to unlock the door?"
She hesitated. If he wanted to hurt her he could have already done so. He'd taken her back to his apartment, trusted her alone. Obviously he had something to do with her being in a brand new body.
Still, the man believed he could hear souls.
She took a deep breath, and unlocked the door.
Connor cracked the door open. Brooke took a step back, holding the towel to cover herself. True to his word, he didn't try to see her, he merely held out a shopping bag.
"You got me clothes?"
"Yeah, but I'm not the most fashionable person."
"It's better than running around naked. Thank you so much."
Brooke shut the door and searched through the bag. She found a pair of pink panties, her favorite co
lor, which fit snugly. However, the bra she slipped on didn't fit. Her new breasts were slightly too large.
"Uh, this bra is just a little too small."
"There should be more in there. I grabbed a few. You should have seen the looks I was getting in the store, just grabbing bras like crazy."
She laughed, which sounded foreign to her. She rooted through a selection of shirts, settling on a simple blue tee shirt. There were two pair of jeans, but they dragged on the floor.
"I like your new laugh," Connor said.
"I'm glad one of us does. Do you have some scissors? These jeans are too long."
"They're the size you told me you wore."
"I've never told you my size. I don't even know you."
He was gone for a minute before offering a pair of scissors through the cracked door. She made herself a pair of cut-off shorts, and was surprised by her own reflection in the mirror. She would turn a lot of heads.
"Sorry I snapped there," she said. "I'll pay you back for all this. I promise."
"Don't worry about it."
She opened the door. Connor leaned against the wall across from the bathroom. He looked her up and down before flashing a thumbs-up.
"You look beautiful."
She smirked and stole one more glance at the mirror. "Yeah, well, thanks. The wonders of science, I guess." A scent touched her nose that made her mouth water. "What's that smell?"
"That would be dinner. Come on." He slapped his forehead. "Crap, I forgot to get you shoes."
"You've done more than enough."
Brooke followed Connor into the living room to see several Styrofoam containers on the coffee table, along with a few sodas. He sat on the far end of the couch and flashed that smile of his.
"I got you a crab-cake from Tony's."
"I love their crab-cakes."
"So I've heard."
Their meal was quiet and peaceful. She had to force herself to slow down, as she was devouring her food. Finally, she began to relax, and with every passing second the questions jumped around in her head. In what felt like only a few hours she'd gone from sleeping in her bedroom to having a new body at a stranger's house.
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