by Bryan Davis
“Really?” She looked at the label, turning the bottle as she read. “Who is Barney Sexton?”
I shrugged. “Probably some rich guy who died before his meds ran out. The shroud doesn’t reveal secrets like that.”
“I suppose not.” She closed her hand around the bottle. “The penalty for buying or selling medical contraband is death, but I assume the Council will take the family’s desperate need into consideration.”
“The family?” I pointed at myself. “But it’s mine.”
Alex let out a tsking sound. “Phoenix, I know you better than you realize. You’ll do anything to protect the people in your district. And now you’re lying to shift the blame to yourself, but once it comes time to testify, you’ll change your story.”
“Look…” I glanced at Molly again. As pale as a level-one ghost, she fought for breath, the scraping in her chest worse than ever. “Since you’ve already decided that the family’s guilty, can’t they try to see if the medicine will work?”
“Of course not, Phoenix. Unlike other officers you’re familiar with who often shirk their true responsibility, I am not here merely to record a death; I am here to enforce it.” The flicker in her eyes returned, as if kindled by her morbid words.
After sliding the bottle into a jacket pocket, she resumed petting Molly’s head, smiling as she crooned, “It’s time to go, little one. The Reaper awaits. Release your grip on life’s fragile bonds. When you die, your family will finally have peace. The end of your suffering will mean the end of theirs. All pain will fly far away.”
With every syllable Alex spoke and with every stroke of her hand, it seemed that Molly’s face grew paler, as if Alex were drawing out life energy with her fingers and voice. “Although losing your bodily presence will be a tragedy, your mother and father will know that you have gone to a better place. And oh, what a ride it will be! You will soar into the heavens and be one with the stars. Never needing food, drink, or medicine, you will be a delight to their eyes without being a burden their poverty can no longer endure.”
Molly’s eyes opened. She blinked at Alex, then at her family. She smiled weakly for a moment, whispered an almost imperceptible “I love you,” then closed her eyes and fell limp. Her head lolled to the side, and she breathed no more.
Fiona sobbed. Colm pulled her close and stroked her back. Colleen just stared, her mouth hanging open.
Her eyes still flickering, Alex rose and backed away from the bed. “Reaper… her soul awaits.”
I boiled inside. This devilish woman had ushered death into the room, just as surely as if she had opened a coffin and rolled out the corpse. But I couldn’t let anger get in the way. I had to do my job.
After raising my hood, I reinserted the clasp into my valve. Warmth emanated from the connection, but no voices. Even Crandyke wasn’t rude enough to speak during a reaping ceremony.
As the warmth spread down my sleeves, I sat on the bed next to Molly’s hip, trying to ignore Alex’s watchful eyes. “Has everyone witnessed an extraction?”
Colm and Fiona nodded, while Colleen gave her head a shake. “I always left the room,” she said. “But I’ll be brave for this one.”
“For your benefit, I will explain each step.” I pulled the cloak’s sleeve over my hand and covered Molly’s eyes with my palm as I recalled the usual speech. “The eyes are the gateway to the soul, and escape from the mortal shell comes through these orbs. Although the throes of extraction will be painful and cause you grief, it is better to weep gently than to wail in agony, for a soul is but a mist when it first emerges and is easily absorbed, but if it walks this world as a ghost, it thickens and becomes a viscous fluid that must squeeze into narrow paths in order to enter my cloak’s fibers. The longer a ghost wanders, the greater its suffering when reaped, so we hope to minimize the pain by collecting it as early as possible.”
All three family members nodded their understanding while Alex kept her gaze locked on me, her lips an even line and her forehead slack, no sign of approval or disapproval.
Looking straight at Colleen, I added an explanation that departed from my usual speech. “Since a soul usually tries to maintain a tight hold on the body for a short time, I will pry it loose in order to allow it to come into my cloak. When the moorings detach, the more violent souls sometimes attack the Reaper, but I’m sure we won’t have to worry about that with a gentle soul like Molly’s.”
Colleen whispered, “I understand.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Go on.”
“Molly’s life has borne its final fruit,” I said, continuing the memorized ceremony, “so now I will reap the harvest. Prepare yourselves for the swinging of the scythe.”
While Colm huddled with Fiona and Colleen, I mentally pushed my valve’s warmth through my sleeve and into my hand. Energy poured into Molly’s eyes and plunged into her brain. Closing my own eyes, I let the flow transform my physical arm into a ghostly appendage. From my elbow to the ends of my fingers, flesh and bone changed to vapor, enabling my forearm to pass through the cloak’s sleeve and into Molly.
The end of the sleeve flattened, reflecting its empty state. As if putting on a glove, I slid my vaporous fingers into the energy flow and reached into Molly’s brain. Probing with my energized fingertips, I searched for a tingling sensation, the unquenchable spark of life that would soon separate from the degenerating corpse.
I touched a buzzing spot and wrapped my hand around a pulsing sphere—the core of Molly’s soul. Like an octopus, static-filled tendrils protruded from the sphere and tickled my hand. If her soul acted like others, many of the thin tentacles likely maintained attachments to her brain. As the seconds passed, most of the tentacles would let go in response to my warm grasp, though sudden sounds usually caused an instinctive reattachment.
I opened my eyes and focused on Molly’s slackened brow. “I am now harvesting her fruit,” I whispered. “Have no fear. Molly is safe in my hands. From this point on, complete silence is essential.”
Fiona sobbed, then quickly covered her mouth with her apron and wept quietly.
With silence restored, I pulled, easing Molly’s soul toward her eyes, but it stopped. The tentacles wouldn’t let go—not unusual, but any delay might trouble her family. I pressed my free hand into her stomach, a common technique to encourage detachment. Air pushed through her voice box, making a moaning sound as the tentacles loosened.
“Stop!” Fiona shouted. “She’s still alive! She’s in pain!”
Molly’s soul hung again. I grimaced but said nothing.
Alex lunged at Fiona and slapped her face. “Silence!” Alex hissed. “If you’re too squeamish, then leave immediately!”
Fiona sucked in a breath and held it. Colm clenched his fists but kept them at his sides as he whispered, “We will be quiet.”
After stepping back to the bed, Alex gave me a nod. “Proceed.”
Forcing myself to ignore Alex’s brutality, I closed my eyes again. Although silence ensued, Molly’s soul whimpered inside. Her fragile sounds vibrated through my sleeve and into my ear, inaudible to everyone else. “Come, Molly,” I said. “Your body can no longer hold you.”
“The light out there is so bright.” Her soul’s voice trembled. “It hurts.”
“I know, but darkness is not your friend. Come to the light.” I caressed the curved surface of her soul with my thumb. “Let go, and I will carry you to a safe place.”
“No. It’s safe here. So peaceful. So quiet.”
I pressed my lips together. Arguing with a reluctant soul had never worked in the past. In her confused state, Molly wouldn’t be able to respond to reason, but jerking her out by force might incite another shout from Fiona and another slap from Alex, or worse. Still, I didn’t have much choice. Waiting would just make the extraction more excruciating.
After establishing a tighter grip, I pried the tentacles from their hold. As each one snapped loose, Molly’s soul cried out in pain. With the strength I had to use, the results wouldn’t be pr
etty, but that couldn’t be helped.
Finally, I forced the throbbing sphere through her eyes. As I relaxed my grip, her energy seeped between my fingers. Like a sponge, my cloak absorbed every particle. Molly’s tingling warmth radiated up my sleeve, her thin vapor sliding easily through the fibers. The worst part was over for her. Now only a stuffy, cramped feeling would remain, along with a sense of detachment and loneliness. Her passage through the Gateway would relieve those discomforts, or so I always hoped.
A bright shimmer spread across my shoulders. As usual with the soul of a child, a surge of energy filled my muscles, but I couldn’t let on that tragedy had provided me with a benefit.
My forearm returned to its physical form. Breathing a sigh, I lifted my hand. The cloak peeled away from Molly’s skin. Her eyeballs bulged from their sockets, and black tears trickled from each corner, more severe than usual.
“Oh my God!” Fiona cried. “What have you done to her?”
I glared at Alex, mentally warning her to back off. Her stare locked on mine. The fire in her eyes ebbed as she stood motionless and quiet. She got the message.
I returned to my Reaper’s persona and shrugged to reposition the cloak on my shoulders. “She resisted. I did what I had to do.”
Fiona dropped to her knees at the bedside and brushed away Molly’s tears, smearing the black across her cheeks. “You Reapers are all alike,” she growled as she closed Molly’s eyelids. “So callous. So coldhearted. You use the Gateway to manipulate us all. No one has the courage to stand up and—”
“Now, Fiona…” Colm patted her shoulder. “If not for Phoenix…” He swallowed. “If not for Phoenix, Molly would be a wandering ghost.”
She clasped Molly’s limp hand, her face fiery red. “Then you thank him!” She kissed Molly’s knuckles and spoke between sobs. “Reapers bring only… only death.… They give us nothing… nothing but false hopes. It’s all a magician’s trick.”
“A trick, you say?” I fanned out my cloak. “Shall I prove Molly’s presence within these fibers?”
“What do you mean?” Fiona brushed away tears. “How could you prove it?”
Alex crossed her arms. “Don’t, Phoenix. This faithless woman doesn’t deserve it.”
“All the same…” I pulled the hood low over my eyes. “Ask me a question only Molly would know how to answer.”
Fiona rose to her feet and took a step closer on wobbly legs. Her eyes wandered as if searching for Molly’s presence in my cloak. Blinking away tears, she squared her shoulders and looked straight at me. “Who is her favorite dancer?”
I nodded, then closed my eyes. Contacting a newly absorbed soul required focus and drained a lot of energy, but bringing a measure of solace to Fiona would be worth it.
I probed the cloak with my mind and let my energy ooze through the fibers. As always, the draining sensation felt like someone had pulled a plug in my reserves and deflated my muscles.
“Phoenix,” Alex called, her voice like a faraway echo. “You’re trembling. Stop, or you’ll collapse.”
“I know what I’m doing.” I took a deep breath and whispered, “Molly, it’s Phoenix. Can you hear me?”
“I hear you.” She sounded like a frightened child hiding under a bed, her voice muffled and shivering.
“Don’t be scared. You’re safe now.” No time for chitchat. I had to get the answer quickly. “Who is your favorite dancer?”
“My favorite dancer? Why do you want to know that?”
“Your mother is asking.”
“She already knows. It’s Anna Pavlova. I read the old magazines all the time.”
“Thank you. That’s all I needed to know.” As I drew back my energy flow, I slowly opened my eyes. I ached to talk with Molly a while longer, to soothe her fears, to bring light to her dark little corner. But she would acclimate soon. I had to move on.
After exhaling heavily, I looked into Fiona’s worried eyes. “Molly says her favorite dancer is Anna Pavlova.”
“Yes.” As Fiona’s scowl melted into a trembling smile, she brushed more tears away, but new ones quickly replaced them. “Yes, that’s right.” She laid her head on Colm’s shoulder, and the three family members embraced, gently weeping.
Alex glided toward me with graceful steps. “Grief is a passing shadow. I’m sure you know that.”
I nodded. “But it’s a crushing shadow.”
“For a season.” She touched my arm. “I think now would be a good time to tell you why I am here instead of the normal patrol officer. The Gatekeeper himself sent me to offer you a special assignment. He has had his eye on you for quite a while.”
Chapter Three
I gave Alex a noncommittal stare. Too many people used the Gatekeeper’s title as a way to impress others. At this point, her only duty was to fill out the death form and send it to the Gateway attendants either by courier or by computer transmission. “Speak your mind.”
The scuffling sounded in the yard again. I avoided glancing that way. If Sing was the stalker, maybe she could create a distraction and get this meddling death officer out of here.
Alex touched my cloak. “I have seen many reapings, so I know Molly’s soul was a particularly stubborn case. Yet you collected her in mere moments. Your reputation is well deserved.”
I kept my face slack. “Alex, I’ve been doing this too long to be influenced by flattery. Just tell me what you want.”
“Very well.” Alex sidled closer and whispered into my ear. “If you will do what I ask, I will process this poor family’s tragic loss and forget that I saw their contraband.”
I drew back and looked into her eyes. Her sparkling gray irises seemed unearthly, as if they had been dipped in ashes and still carried the fire’s glowing embers. “What exactly are you saying?”
“I need your expertise, the same prowess I witnessed here.” She withdrew the sonic gun from its holster and held it casually at her thigh. “We are expecting, shall we say, a rash of deaths at a centralized location, so we will need a couple of proficient Reapers there to collect the souls. If you cooperate, you will be promoted to Cardinal status with all the benefits.” She withdrew a shiny gold key from her pants pocket and set it close to my eyes. “After your stint at the scheduled reaping, you will move into your own furnished condo. No more rundown apartment. No more midnight death alarms. Your reapings will be scheduled for you without quota. A roommate of your choice, if you so desire.” She gave me a knowing smile. “Aren’t you tired of being alone all the time?”
I nodded. I couldn’t deny that being alone was the worst part of a district hound’s lifestyle. Yet, how could I leave my district? The citizens needed me. Another Reaper would just collect the souls of the dead without bothering to take care of the living. “Can you give me time to think about it?”
“You need time?” She smiled, though her lips quivered at one corner. “How much?”
“A couple of days, maybe?” I looked toward Colm. I had to get back to protocol. “Colm, I can collect my fee later, so don’t worry about—”
Alex grabbed my arm. Her tight fingers trembled as she spoke through clenched teeth. “It is not considered polite to interrupt a conversation.”
I spiced my reply with a growl. “It is also impolite to interrupt reaping protocol with your personal requests for my services.”
“Oh. I see how it is.” With sparks of red blazing in her eyes, she aimed the gun at Colm. “You asked for time to make your decision. You have exactly three seconds.… One… Two…”
“Wait! Let me—”
A metal ball sailed in through the window. Attached to a thin line, it wrapped around the gun barrel in swishing arcs. The gun jerked from Alex’s grip and flew outside.
Alex balled her fists. “Who would dare disarm me?”
“I’ll check it out.” I stalked toward the window. “They might be dangerous.”
“No! Wait!”
I tucked my body and leaped through the opening. When I landed on my feet in
the yard, something rustled above. A figure sat high in the branches of a willow tree. As the tree bent in the breeze, the stalker’s feminine face appeared in the glow of a nearby streetlamp. Sing raised a finger to her lips, then scampered up into the darkness.
Alex leaned out the window. “Do you see anyone?”
“Not down here.” I laid a hand on the tree trunk. “I’ll take a look around.” I leaped for a branch, swung up, and climbed high into the shadows.
When I drew even with the top of the building, Sing reached across from the roof, grabbed my arm, and pulled me over the parapet. Once I steadied myself on the roof’s flat expanse, she whispered, “You okay?”
“For now.” I peeked over the edge at the window below. Alex was nowhere in sight. “I just hope the family’s safe. Alex isn’t exactly the merciful sort.”
A tall streetlamp buzzed like an annoying alarm clock and cast its light over the rooftop. Sing crouched next to the parapet, her cloak open, revealing her weapons belt with Alex’s sonic gun in a harness. “I’ve seen her,” Sing said. “She’s a DEO, isn’t she?”
I nodded. “But her real reason for coming was to recruit me.”
Sing shifted her sparkling dark eyes toward me. “Recruit you for what?”
“To take part in a big reaping. You interrupted her before she spilled the details.” I gestured with my head. “We’d better make ourselves scarce. It’s too bright up here.”
I turned to run, but Crandyke’s voice made me pause. “I know Alex. She’s an Owl, so you’d better watch your step. She’s the specter of death with curves instead of a cloak, and she can draw life out of a lamppost. Some say she can even read minds, so if she’s on your tail you’ll soon be in big trouble.”
“I’m already in big trouble.” I glanced at Sing. She squinted at me but said nothing. “I’ll just lay low for a while.”
“You’ll be a mouse in her talons in short order,” Crandyke said. “You might as well do as she asks. You’ll be a lot better off.”
“I know, but I can’t. It’s not that simple.”
“Is a soul talking to you?” Sing asked.
