Reapers

by Bryan Davis

The next obstacle would be sneaking back across the open yard after knocking out the two guards. Dodging the searchlights might be possible for a Reaper as nimble as Sing, but not with a family tagging along. I asked Tori to study the searchlights and report if they have a power switch. Of course she wouldn’t be able to turn them off herself, but she could lead Shanghai or me to take care of that task.

  The final obstacle would be getting the family out the Hilton’s rear exit. We decided that Sing should try the door-knocking trick again, but since Stanskey would be ready this time with his gun drawn, she would have to overpower him and knock him out the moment he disabled the alarm and opened the door.

  After we set the plans, I looked at Sing. “We should be able to come back here between the demonstration and dinner, and we’ll see how your disguise is coming along.”

  “That’s fine.” Sing rose from the bed and opened her beat-up suitcase on Shanghai’s dresser. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

  I glanced at the suitcase’s contents and caught a glimpse of a dark glass bottle with a prescription label, half buried under clothing. “Where did you get the medicine?”

  “One of my people picked it up at the shroud.” Sing pulled the bottle out and showed it to me. “It’s for my cough. It helps a lot. If I cough like a seal while I’m here, someone’s bound to find me.”

  I leaned forward to try to read the label, but her hand covered the words. No matter. It was just a cough suppressant. “Good thinking.”

  Tori jumped up from the sofa. “I’m going to the searchlights now.”

  “And we’d better get going, too.” After Shanghai and I said good-bye to Sing, we walked slowly down the hall toward the stairwell. “What do you think our chances are?” I asked. “Do you think the plan can work?”

  Shanghai shook her head. “Plans never work the way you expect. Something always goes wrong. We have to be ready to adjust. You know, think fast. Be quick on our feet.”

  After a few seconds of silence, I leaned toward her. “I’m glad I have you at my side. I’ve never seen anyone as sharp and quick as you are.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.” Shanghai brushed her hand against mine. “But will you stay at my side?”

  I stopped at the stairwell door and faced her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” Looking into my eyes, she took my hand and compressed it with both of hers. “Once we’re done here, will you stay with me? Just like now? Roommates, so we won’t be alone again.”

  Shanghai’s gaze pierced my heart, and her touch sent pulses of heat surging through my body. She was so beautiful, so intelligent, so electric. Every other guy in the world would jump at the chance to be with this amazing girl.

  Without looking, I rubbed the pewter ring with my thumb. Misty. She still waited. “Shanghai, I can’t make promises like that. We’re sprinting headlong into a charging bull. We might not be alive tomorrow. We might have to die for this cause.”

  “I know. We always have something to die for, but I want something to live for, something to look forward to.” As her eyes misted, her voice cracked. “If I have to keep living alone, maybe I won’t… I won’t…” She bit her lip and turned away.

  My mind begged to ask “Won’t what?” but I bit my own lip and touched her shoulder. “Can we talk about it later?”

  “Um…” She turned back to me, brushing a tear, her head low. “Sure. We’ll talk later.”

  I angled my head to catch her gaze. “No hard feelings? We’ll talk about it. Really.”

  “No hard feelings.” After brushing another tear, she hooked her arm around mine, her voice resuming its perky bounce. “I won’t bring it up again.”

  “You won’t have to.” I leaned close and kissed her forehead. “Trust me. I really want to be with you. I just have to figure some things out first. Is that all right?”

  “It’s all right.” Shanghai returned the kiss to my forehead. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alex led Shanghai and me across the prison yard toward the assembly room. The drizzle had stopped, though the grass remained damp and spongy. The searchlight on the watchtower stood dark and motionless. Another dormant searchlight sat atop a taller factory-style building I hadn’t entered yet. With nearly every window broken and a double door standing open on rusted hinges, it was likely abandoned.

  Inside the assembly room, the workstation square had been cleared, replaced by three white disks, similar to the pedestals at the Gateway, though only half as thick. The foreman stood fidgeting near a wall, the only prisoner remaining.

  Alex crossed the room and crouched with Peter next to the largest disk. She pointed at a bowl-shaped depression at the center of its otherwise smooth surface. They exchanged whispers before Alex rose and turned toward us. “Each of you take one of these and carry it outside. It looks like the rain will hold off for a while.”

  I chose one and lifted it. Weighing about twenty pounds, it wasn’t too heavy. Shanghai picked up another, the same size as mine.

  I glared at Alex. She had a purpose for this visit other than to get help carrying disks. She wanted us to see that the work was finished. The prisoners had served their purpose. Their next assignment would end with their disembodied souls locked inside the fibers of a Reaper’s cloak.

  Alex picked up a slender rectangular box, similar to one that might hold long-stemmed roses, and walked toward the exit, motioning for the foreman to come along. Peter carried the largest disk and followed.

  When we arrived at the middle of the yard, Alex directed the placement of the disks in a triangle, separating them by about three paces. When Peter set his disk on the ground, he stood on it for a moment, apparently checking its stability.

  As soon as Alex approved the setup, she withdrew a miniature tablet from her jacket pocket and tapped on the screen. “Since this demonstration is the first of its kind anywhere in the world, we will have a special guest in attendance to monitor the results.”

  I stepped close to Shanghai. “Any guesses?”

  “Someone who could approve a Gateway test?” Shanghai rolled her eyes. “A certain pompous windbag we both know all too well.”

  I let out a quiet groan. “Not Bartholomew.”

  She elbowed my ribs. “Hush.”

  While we waited, I scanned the grounds once again, looking for a ladder or rope or any way to scale the abandoned building that held the searchlight, but no climbing devices lay around. A spool and line would have to do.

  My gaze paused at the foreman waiting outside the pedestal triangle. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, apparently unaware of the reason he had been called to join us, and rightly so. No one had yet asked him to do anything.

  After a couple of minutes, the camp’s front gate dragged open. A white stretch limousine breezed through and drove across the yard, its tires pressing into the soft turf. The driver, a man wearing a dark blazer and chauffeur’s cap and sporting a gray goatee, kept both hands on the wheel, his expression stoic. A curtain behind him and tinted windows prevented a view of the rear passenger compartment.

  The limo stopped several paces away from our Gateway setup. When the motor shut off, the chauffeur got out and opened the rear passenger door on his side. A woman in a hooded white cloak emerged with a silver box cradled in her palms. When she straightened, her hood fell back, revealing red hair and a familiar face.

  “It’s Erin,” Shanghai whispered.

  “I know, but she’s just a checkpoint clerk.”

  “True, but that’s a job that requires a lot of trust from on high, if you know what I mean. Maybe she’s not alone.”

  Keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead, Erin strode directly to the largest disk. She set the box down, then reached inside and withdrew a glowing sphere. Its alabaster radiance washed over her face, turning her skin pale blue.

  She placed the sphere in the disk’s bowl-shaped depression. The sphere’s glow diminished from t
op to bottom, as if absorbed by the underlying surface. Emanating a hum, the disk expanded vertically into a circular foot-tall slab, the same size and shape as the Gateway pedestals.

  Alex walked to one of the two other disks, touched a button on the side, and inserted a photo stick in a port at the base, then repeated the process with the third disk. As the two disks grew in height, holograms took shape over their surfaces. Within seconds, they clarified into cloaked Reapers that looked like Shanghai and me.

  “Each of you stand on your pedestal,” Alex said. “You know the drill.”

  I stepped up and meshed with my hologram. Shanghai did the same with hers. Because of the disks’ triangular arrangement, we faced each other. I glanced at Peter, who stood at Alex’s side next to Erin. Since no hologram appeared on the third disk, his part in this demonstration remained unclear.

  Once we were in place, Alex focused on the computer tablet. “The pressure hasn’t stabilized yet. Just another minute or so.”

  The chauffeur opened the limo’s other rear door. A man stepped out, straightened to a six-foot-plus height, and looked around. His blue eyes sparkled in spite of the dreary sky. The breeze blew back his collar-length black hair, making it brush against his pullover sweater. Wearing jeans and athletic shoes, he walked toward us, his skin nearly as radiant as the glowing sphere. “Well,” he said with an energetic voice, “it is certainly a pleasure seeing these fine Reapers here.”

  Alex dropped to one knee and bowed her head. “The pleasure is ours, Exalted One.” Erin and Peter copied Alex’s pose, and the two holograms knelt in the same way.

  I stayed on my feet. No one had ordered a bow or even introduced the visitor, though I recognized him as the Gatekeeper from the many portraits and posters throughout the city. I had never been a conformist before, and I wasn’t about to become one now, though standing in the midst of my own bowed form probably made me look like a stubborn rebel.

  Shanghai bent for a moment, but when she noticed me, she straightened again. Although her lips stayed taut and even, her eyes darted nervously.

  The Gatekeeper walked to me and extended his hand. “I am Melchizedek. What is your name?”

  “Phoenix.” I bent slightly and slid my hand into his. The moment our skin made contact, a pulse of energy ran up my arm and through my body, as if I had plugged into a human electrical outlet. Yet, instead of hot and painful, the sensation was warm and soothing.

  “Alex told me about you.” As we shook hands, he smiled. “I trust that you know my position.”

  I nodded. “The Gatekeeper.”

  He drew his hand away. “Then why did you not bow?”

  “I assumed you honor deeds rather than show. I am here to reap souls, as requested.” I straightened. “Is it my duty also to pay you genuflecting homage?”

  Still smiling, he spoke in a low tone. “Phoenix, I applaud your courage. I always prefer sailing in a sturdy ship over a rickety showboat. Moorings are far more important than colorful banners. Yet I do expect proper decorum. A bow of respect is sufficient.”

  “I understand.” I gave him a half bow, as did Shanghai. “If your character matches your marketing, I respect you highly.”

  “Courageously stated.” He pivoted toward Alex, Peter, and Erin. “Rise, my friends. I am looking forward to this demonstration.”

  When the trio rose, Alex studied her computer tablet. “One moment, if you please.”

  “Take your time. I see no reason to hurry.”

  While they waited, I looked at my hand. My palm tingled, and the energy surge ebbed. The fading sensation left a void, a hunger that gnawed within. My cheeks flushed hot. My body ached with desire. It wanted more, another touch, another taste.

  I clenched my fists. Maybe this was how Melchizedek controlled his minions—with a sip of his power, a narcotic that instantly addicted. The handshake was designed to bring me to my knees, if not in body, then in mind. I had to resist.

  Shanghai cocked her head, blinking. I showed her my palm and shook my head hard, hoping she would interpret the signal. She had to avoid contact.

  She gave me a nod.

  The gnawing hunger eased. I let my muscles relax. I had fought off the influence, at least temporarily.

  “We’re ready now, sir.” Alex laid a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Let’s proceed.”

  Peter stepped in front of the Gatekeeper pedestal. Alex opened the “flower” box, and she and Erin began withdrawing flexible tubes from inside, identical to those we used at the Gateway depot.

  Peter gave Melchizedek a head bow. “Since you have overseen the project, sir, I have no need to explain the principles, but for the sake of the other two Reapers, I will include a brief description.” He fanned an arm across the triangle of pedestals. “We have constructed a new Gateway depot, the first portable one in the world. Yet portability is not its only important innovation. The alterations we have made to the energy delivery system will greatly enhance a Reaper’s abilities.”

  While Peter spoke, Alex and Erin attached the pedestal bases together with flexible tubes, plugging one end into a base and the other into an adjacent base to form a triangle of connected pedestals. When they finished, they brought two other tubes, one for my pedestal and one for Shanghai’s, and attached one normal end to a valve on the pedestal surface and a T-connector end to our clasps.

  Peter gestured for the foreman to come. His back bowed as if ready to receive a lashing, the foreman hurried to Peter’s side.

  “What we have here,” Peter said, nodding toward the foreman, “is a full-fledged level-three ghost.” He pushed his hand through the foreman’s back until it protruded from his chest.

  I gave Shanghai a glance. With her mouth partially open, she looked as surprised as I felt.

  The foreman leaped away and stood with his back bowed again, trembling. “I’m sorry, sir. I just wanted to help. I offered a lot of advice in the assembly room. Ask anyone.”

  “I know you did,” Peter said in a soothing tone. “You have nothing to fear. In fact, I asked you to join us so you can be rewarded.”

  The foreman straightened. “Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.”

  “During our earlier tests,” Peter continued, “I consumed an augmented form of energy and practiced an enhanced ability we had theorized. After several attempts, I was able to reap a level-three ghost with ease. Our new disks are able to deliver the Gatekeeper’s energy in this purer and more powerful form, so once all Reapers begin energizing this way and learn the technique, we will be able to reap wandering souls more efficiently and thereby help them go to their eternal homes, giving their families peace and assurance that all is well for their departed loved ones.”

  A vague aura formed around Melchizedek’s head, like that of an angel in early religious art. “Excellent. Please proceed.”

  Peter turned to the foreman. “I understand that your name is Zeke.”

  He nodded. “Yes sir. Yes sir, it is.”

  “Well, Zeke, let’s talk about your reward.” Peter fanned out his cloak and set it over Zeke’s back. Instead of falling through, the cloak spread out neatly on his shoulders.

  I leaned closer and studied Peter’s appearance, paler, definitely transformed. He had joined the ghostly ranks on a whim, including everything he wore from his clothing to his cloak and belt. It had always taken me much longer.

  “Do you trust me?” Peter asked Zeke.

  “Uh… ” Zeke’s eyes began to glow as if he were reverting to a level two. “Sure. I trust you.… Who are you again?”

  “A friend.” Peter draped his cloak completely around Zeke and pulled him close. Zeke’s body thinned out into vapor and flowed into the fibers. Seconds later, without so much as a whimper, he was gone.

  As Peter turned to face us again, his cloak shimmered. “I am still in the realm of ghosts, as Alex will demonstrate.”

  Alex pushed her hand through Peter’s back. When she stepped away, she took on the tour-guide persona again as she addres
sed Shanghai and me. “If Peter were to return to physical form now, we could transfer the soul from his cloak in the usual way, but instead he will demonstrate a new method that is less painful.” She lifted the loose end of the largest pedestal’s tube and pushed it into Peter’s body. “We’re ready.”

  Erin walked closer, now tapping on Alex’s computer tablet. “Turning on the vacuum.”

  A hum sounded. Peter’s body stretched out and rushed into the tube.

  Erin studied the tablet. “Peter and Zeke are separating,” she said in monotone. “The sphere is absorbing Zeke’s soul, while Peter is resisting the pull.”

  A few seconds later, the sphere’s radiance brightened.

  “Zeke is now in place, and the lock is secure.” Erin slid a finger across the tablet’s screen. “Peter is ready to return.”

  “Bring him back,” Alex said.

  Erin tapped on the screen. “Reversing the flow.”

  The hum returned. Mist appeared at the end of the tube, poured to the ground, and collected in a vertical column. Within seconds, Peter’s body took shape. After staggering for a moment, he closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

  “Good work, Peter.” Alex patted him on the shoulder, proving that he had returned to the physical realm.

  “Thanks.” Still looking a bit woozy, he backed away. “You can finish, Mother.”

  Alex flashed an angry look, then laughed. “As the other Reapers know, transfers to and from ghost status can cause temporary dizziness and confusion. It seems that Peter thinks he’s at home with his mother, but he’ll soon recover.”

  I studied Peter’s expression. Yes, he was confused, but probably just enough to forget about hiding who his mother was. So Peter was the Reaper Kwame mentioned, and Alex wasn’t just an Owl; she was really a Council member, which would explain her apparent youth in spite of her twenty years as a Reaper.

  “The confusion is a drawback,” Alex continued, “so we make the transfer as quick as possible in order to minimize the effect. Also, the drawback is outweighed by the benefit of convenience. Since this is a portable station, the sphere Erin brought can be carried to the actual Gateway and the souls therein transferred to the afterlife. We can have one of these stations in every major city, and death officers can facilitate the transfers. No more long train rides for weary Reapers.”