Reapers

by Bryan Davis

  “Got it.” Shanghai drank the rest of her soup and tossed the cup into a trash can. “Then what?”

  I took in a breath. It was now or never. “Then we’ll figure out how to get Sing into our suite at the camp. You and she can share your room.”

  “Sing’s joining us?” Shanghai’s smile tightened. “Well… um… that’s great. When did you two decide that?”

  “On the train. While you were sleeping.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “Okay. That’s cool. So Sing can sneak around while we’re reaping and report her findings to us.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  Shanghai halted and pushed the water bottle into my cloak pocket. “You keep thinking, Phoenix. That’s what you do best.” She spun away and jogged down the sloping sidewalk, her cloak flowing behind her. Soon, she turned a corner in the distance and disappeared from sight.

  “Well,” Sing said as she stared in the direction Shanghai had gone. “That was… abrupt.”

  I nodded. “She felt out of the loop. She’ll get over it.”

  “I hope so.” Sing wadded her sandwich wrapper and thrust it into the trash can with more than the usual force.

  “What’s bugging you?” I asked.

  “Let’s get moving.” She pulled the bottle from my pocket. “We’ll talk when we’re alone.”

  As we walked through the park, we finished our soup and tossed the empty cups into a trash receptacle. When we passed by the spot where we fought the bandits, we slowed our pace. Our expended smoke capsules lay strewn about, and divots in the grass gave evidence of a struggle, but it seemed that no bandits lurked. On such a cool, blustery day, neither they nor any park visitors wanted to brave the elements.

  Now well away from the bustle, I brushed my shoulder against hers. “Still upset about Mex?”

  “Of course, but not just because he died.” She kicked a pebble on the walkway. “Obviously you’re still going through with the plan, but what about my district? Now we don’t have Mex to cover it.”

  “Good point.” I glanced at Mex’s cloak, once again draped over my shoulder. “I’ll have to think about that. Maybe you won’t be able to join us in the condo after all.”

  “No!” Sing bit her lip. “I mean, like you said, you and Shanghai will be busy with the reapings. You’ll need me. I’ll be like a ghost who’ll appear and disappear whenever I’m called upon.”

  “But you can’t just abandon your district. If souls don’t get reaped there, you’ll get busted to roamer. I don’t mean to offend you, but you’re not experienced enough to survive on the streets like Mex did.”

  “I’m not offended. You’re right.” She stopped and coughed, covering her mouth with her sleeve. The episode lengthened into a series of hard spasms that added more color to her face. When she finished, she held up the bottle of water. “I guess I shouldn’t contaminate this.”

  I waved a hand. “No. It’s yours. I’ll be fine.”

  She smiled thankfully, took a drink of water, and slowly recapped the top. As she swallowed, her brow knitted tightly. “What if I just disappear?”

  “Disappear?”

  She began walking again. “They’d have to get a replacement, right? And I wouldn’t be around to get busted.”

  I kept pace at her side. “But you’d still have to collect souls no matter where you go. I know you didn’t expend much energy this cycle, but that’ll change. Even if you don’t reap, you’ll eventually leak out. We all do.”

  She pointed the bottle at me. “Maybe you and Shanghai could give me enough souls to make quota.”

  “Transfers? I thought you didn’t want to—”

  “I didn’t, but desperate times, you know.”

  “That still won’t work. If you disappear, you won’t be assigned a quota to make.” I gestured with my head toward the train station. “What’ll happen when you show up at the Gateway to deliver the souls and recharge your energy? You’ll get busted.”

  Sing breathed a sigh. “I guess you’re right.”

  After walking quietly for a minute, I looked in the direction of Kwame’s home, still twenty blocks away. “Tell you what. I have a friend who gets insider information about the Gateway. Let’s talk to him and see if he has any ideas.”

  “You’d tell this friend about your plans? You trust him that much?”

  “He’s kind of like a Gateway denier.” I nodded at Sing’s cloak pocket. “Not like the loony who wrote that pamphlet, but he has a lot of questions about the system that I can’t answer. He wouldn’t rat us out. He’d get in trouble himself.”

  “Okay.” Sing’s dark eyebrows scrunched together. “But I’m skeptical.”

  “Good. In the Jungle, skepticism keeps you alive.”

  Sing lowered her head for a moment before looking at me again. “Since it’s okay to be skeptical, you won’t mind if I bring up something I’m wondering about, right?”

  “Sure. Go for it.”

  “I watched your photo downloads into the Gateway computer. They were all female except Mike. But earlier you said you were talking to a guy named Crandyke.”

  “Right. Him.” Still walking, I withdrew his photo stick from my cloak pocket and showed it to her. “This is what Bartholomew was talking about.”

  “The protocol violation?”

  I nodded. “Since Crandyke worked in a DEO office, I thought he could provide some information, so I kept his soul.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “You’re delaying his passage to the Gateway just to get information?”

  “For Colm’s family…” I thrust the stick back into my pocket. “Yeah.”

  “Isn’t that a punishable offense?”

  “Why? You wouldn’t report me—”

  “No, no. Never. And I’m not saying you’re wrong.” She lowered her head. “It’s just that… well…”

  “You might as well tell me, Sing. No use holding back.”

  “Okay. Here goes.” She took a deep breath. “I’m surprised that you’re telling me about this offense when you won’t trust me enough to tell me that you’re a medicine smuggler.”

  “A medicine smuggler?” I bent my brow. “What did you really see through Colm’s window?”

  “I told you I saw you try to take the blame. That was true.”

  “But you saw more. You saw me give the pills to Molly’s family.”

  “Let’s just say—”

  “Don’t start with a ‘let’s just say’ dodge.” I halted and grabbed her arm. “If you know I’m a smuggler then tell me how you know. If I’m going to risk my life with you, you have to be honest with me.”

  “Honest? Like you’ve been with me?” Sing glared at my grip. “I’m supposed to help you rescue people who’ll be executed because you smuggled medicine to them, and you haven’t told me that you’re the one who got them in trouble.” She jerked her arm away. “If you call that honesty, then I’ll keep a few of my own secrets, thank you very much.”

  Heat crawled across my skin. “Touché. I deserved that one.”

  “You did.” She brushed the wrinkles from her sleeve. “But we’ve known each other for what? Two weeks? We never really talked before last night. Trust takes time.”

  “Okay. I get that. But how did you know?”

  She glanced away for a moment before refocusing on me. “The people I mentioned who might help us. They told me. But I don’t know how they know. Maybe they’ll tell you when you meet them.”

  A sharp pain drilled into my stomach. All this time I thought I had kept my activities hidden, but Sing’s “people” had been secretly monitoring me. “Okay. I’ll look forward to meeting them.”

  “Don’t worry, Phoenix. They’re on our side.” She tilted her head and looked at me as if searching for light in my eyes. “Still friends?”

  “Sure.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Now I know why they say Reapers can’t be friends. We’d probably fight each other all the time.”

  “No way.” Sing gave me a har
d shove from the side. “You wouldn’t last two minutes with me.”

  “Only because you’d be begging for mercy.” I shoved her back. “I couldn’t stand watching you cry.”

  As we walked, we continued the playful pushing and teasing. Our cloaks fanned out, flitting against each other as if mimicking our antics. With each push we eased up on the force and drew closer and closer together. Finally, she gently bumped my arm with hers and said, “You’d better break the news to Crandyke.”

  “I suppose so, but he’s going to be spitting mad.” Letting out a sigh, I plugged my clasp into my valve. When my cloak energized, I listened for Crandyke, but no sound rode up the fibers. “Crandyke? Are you there?”

  “As if you didn’t know.” A growl rumbled in his voice.

  “Yeah, well, I can explain, you see—”

  “Sure. Explain away. I’d like to hear why you kept a dead man from going to his eternal resting place. This ought to be good.”

  “Don’t get bent out of shape, Crandyke. I kept you here because I need you.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” His tone changed to a girlish squeal. “Oh! Phoenix needs me! I’m so honored! I think I’ll jump up and click my heels together!” After a high-pitched giggle, he reverted to a growl. “Give me a break.”

  “Listen, Crandyke, I’m actually doing you a favor. I heard from a…” I glanced at Sing’s cloak pocket where the pamphlet lay. “From an unnamed source that the Gateway is dangerous for souls.”

  “The crackpot soul-eater theory?” Crandyke laughed. “Lousy effort, but I’ll give you points for amusing me.”

  “Well, believe this.” I withdrew his photo stick again. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me. If you cooperate, I’ll take you to the Gateway when I meet quota again. If not… well… I might just lose track of your photo stick.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Try me.” I tossed the stick in the air and caught it. “I’ll do anything to save Molly’s family, including manipulating a stubborn ghost.”

  After a moment of silence, Crandyke gasped. “I figured it out. I didn’t miss the Gateway. I went through it, and now I’m in hell. I’m trapped inside a lunatic Reaper’s cloak, and I’ll suffer through an eternal cycle of promised trips to the Gateway only to be thwarted every time by a new sadistic reason for not taking me there.”

  “Think what you want, but if you don’t cooperate, your photos are going for a swim in the closest portable toilet. Got it?”

  Crandyke moaned. “Why did I decide to eat that triple cheeseburger while walking through your district? I was just asking to have a heart attack. Now I have to put up with—”

  I unplugged my cloak and let the clasp dangle. “That was… interesting.”

  “That’s one word for it.” Sing smiled. “Do you think he’ll help?”

  “Probably. He doesn’t have much choice.” I slid Crandyke’s photo stick back to my pocket, but it stuck to my sweaty palm. With a quick shake, I broke contact. More sweat moistened my back. No surprise. I was using a dead man for my own purposes, a real breach of protocol. I was breaking the Reapers’ pledge. Reaped souls came first, regardless of my motivations. My trainer hammered that principle into me from day one. Even a drunk like him wouldn’t break that covenant. So what did that make me? Something worse than a drunk.

  And guilt over Mex’s death only added to my burden.

  I tightened my grip on his cloak. Regardless of protocol, I had to end this nightmare once and for all. Since souls came first, I had to make sure they ended up in a safe place, no matter what.

  Chapter Ten

  After exiting the park, I led Sing back to my district and entered a residential area near the river. We passed by dilapidated row houses where elderly men and women sat on front steps, staring at us from under dark leathery brows. Normally they might be worried about the presence of a Reaper, but our lowered hoods signaled that we weren’t on official business today. Their stares communicated curiosity. Why would two Reapers be walking together so far from the train station? Almost unheard of.

  We continued our quick march. Children ran here and there, sometimes stopping in front of us, then backing away with awestruck stares. Their playful screams barely competed with a stereo blaring classical music through an open window.

  “Beethoven?” Sing asked as we drew near the house. “Kind of unusual, isn’t it?”

  “Not from that place.” I pointed with my thumb toward the window. “Noah is a classical music nut. He’s twelve, almost thirteen, and he has a beat-up cello he uses to jam with while he listens. I don’t hear him now, but you’ll know it when he tries to tune that scratchy old thing.”

  “How did you get to know him so well?”

  “He’s a Reaper in training. He invites me over for sparring whenever he’s home on leave.” As we passed by a motorcycle chained to a lamppost, I ran my hand along its contoured seat where a Gateway insignia had been stitched into the leather-like material. “Why would a DEO be here in my district? I didn’t get an alarm.”

  The music stopped. “Phoenix!” a woman called from Noah’s window. “You’re here! I knew you’d come!”

  The front door flung open. Georgia, Noah’s mother, ran out. As she hustled toward the street, her short legs carried her stocky frame at a surprising rate. When she stopped, she laid one hand on my shoulder and the other on her ample bosom. “Give me a minute to catch my breath.”

  “Of course.” I nodded at Sing. “Singapore, this is Georgia Taylor. Georgia, this is my Reaper associate, Singapore, better known as Sing.”

  Sing bowed her head. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “And the same to you, young lady.” Georgia’s smile stretched her cheeks. “Well, I hoped and prayed for one Reaper to come, and I got two!” She shifted her hand to Mex’s cloak. “But you didn’t need to bring a cloak. We’re almost finished making Noah’s. He looks so cute with his head shaved.”

  “Today’s his initiation?”

  Georgia bobbed her head. “Turned thirteen yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you invite me?”

  “Oh, Phoenix, I wanted to, really I did, but Noah’s trainer said if an older Reaper shows up at the initiation without being invited, it means the new Reaper will be blessed beyond measure.”

  I nodded. “I’ve heard that, too, but Sing and I are going—”

  “And since two Reapers showed up, well I guess that means Noah’s gonna have blessings overflowing!” Georgia gripped my forearm and led me toward her house. “Noah’s going to be so excited to see you.”

  As I let her pull me along, I looked back at Sing and shrugged.

  She followed, flashing an amused grin. It seemed that we didn’t have much choice.

  Georgia opened the door and ushered us in. Walking slowly through a narrow hall, we drew near a combination living room/TV room where Noah sat on a straight-backed chair at the center, his shaved head erect and his shoulders straight. With his training-enhanced muscles filling out his beige long-sleeved tunic, he looked sharp indeed.

  Judas, tall and lanky, leaned against the far wall, yawning as he studied his tablet. Although his real name was Jude, we Reapers used our nickname for him when he couldn’t hear us. No one trusted this DEO.

  Three couples stood about, all in their Sunday best. One lady wearing a purple-on-white floral shawl sat on a sunken sofa cushion, hand sewing a hood to a cloak at a furious rate. Bright smiles on dark faces abounded, but when they saw Sing and me enter the room, several mouths dropped open.

  “Reapers,” a wrinkle-faced man in a gray suit said. “They actually came!”

  “Just like I told you.” Georgia introduced us and rattled off the guests’ names, but most of them flew in one ear and out the other. I did catch the name of the woman stitching the cloak together—Valerie Evans, a fortyish woman with a few threads of graying hair around her pink bonnet, a dress fit to be worn at a royal wedding, and nimble fingers that whipped through the
thick cloak material as if they were attached to an industrial machine.

  “I’ll be done in two minutes,” Valerie said. “I spun his hair with flax just yesterday, but it came out tougher than I expected.”

  Georgia laid a hand on Valerie’s shoulder. “Two minutes is perfect. That’ll give Phoenix and Sing time to administer the Reaper’s pledge.” She turned to the man in the gray suit. “You don’t mind, do you Harold?”

  “Of course not.” Harold held a tattered sheet of paper covered with handwritten text and extended it toward me. “I don’t suppose you need this, do you?”

  “The pledge?” I shook my head. “It’s still memorized, but Noah’s trainer should administer it.” I scanned the room. “Where is he?”

  “He was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.” Georgia pointed at the sheet. “We don’t have a handbook, so Noah wrote the pledge on that paper from memory.”

  “Is Hanoi your trainer?” I asked Noah.

  He nodded, his head now low.

  “Then we shouldn’t wait for him. He probably got sidetracked at a bar.” I motioned for Noah to stand and whispered, “You’re a bigger man than Hanoi will ever be.”

  “Thank you, Phoenix.” Noah rose from his chair. No taller than Sing, his tunic lay partially open, exposing his valve. Although his dark tones hid much of the surgical trauma, the skin around the valve’s edge looked raw and blood-tinged. “I’m ready,” he said, lifting his right hand.

  “Wait a minute.” Judas pushed away from the wall and pointed his tablet at Noah. “Gotta get this on video.” After tapping a couple of keys, he nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Sing, if you’ll join me.” I faced Noah and raised my right hand, as did Sing, now standing at my side. “Repeat after me.… I, Noah, do solemnly pledge to uphold the principles of the Reaper’s Code.”

  Noah cleared his throat. “I, Noah, do solemnly pledge to uphold the principles of the Reaper’s Code.”

  After Sing and I recited each phrase, Noah echoed it with fervor.

  “To have compassion for the dying, the bereaved, and the disembodied souls; to keep souls in my care safe from all harm no matter what the circumstances; to consider their needs before my own and those of all others, whether living or dead; to ensure that they are treated with the respect due to all humans; and to deliver them safely to the Gateway even at the risk of my own life.”