by J. E. Taylor
“Who dares to forge my name?” she spit the words out and her eyes took on the eerie quality of fire, while the room turned to ice.
“I think it was the reapers who took my father.” My hand fell on the knife handle and the fear brewing in my belly, turning my stomach into a sourball, calmed. “I need your help.”
“I told you boy, this is on you.”
“But they’re using your seal to justify the killings.” I tried reason, but I could tell from the narrowing of her gaze, that wasn’t the right path.
She stepped closer, crowding me and I gripped the knife tight, staring her down and holding my ground. The blade throbbed against my thigh and I reached out with my empty hand, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her into Julia’s room where another reaper stood, ready to collect Julia’s soul.
“Stop!” Fate ordered and the reaper paused, his bony hand hovering inches from my future. “This is not written!”
The reaper’s hand curled as he pulled it away, cocking his head, he pulled out the written order from under his cloak. After taking a glance at the scribbles on the paper, he handed it to Fate and waited for further instruction.
Fate plucked it from his hand and scanned the words. She straightened her back and glared at the reaper. “Who gave this to you?”
“Promethis,” he answered with a voice that reminded me of Darth Vader’s without the heavy breathing.
“I should have known,” she muttered and crumbled the paper, turning it to dust much like I did earlier. Casting her glare at the reaper, she stood stock straight. “Are you prepared to follow Promethis into the bowels of hell?”
He shook his head and stepped away from the bed. “Promethis played me and I’m about as happy about this as you are.”
“So will you help this boy defeat Promethis and his followers?” She waved toward me.
The creature nodded and turned his dead gaze in my direction and it fell on the knife in the sheath at my side. With a stumbling step, he backed away. “He has the sacred blade.”
“Yes,” Fate said without missing a beat. “He’s Dylan’s son, he has a right to the weapon.”
If a skeleton could blink, I think this one did. His jaw dropped open and then the air around him glimmered, sparking against the black sky beyond the window. The transformation from the cloaked skeleton to a teenage boy took seconds and ended with a pop like a lip smack.
The reaper reached into his coat and pulled out another sheet, handing it to Fate with trepidation. “I’m not sure we can stop this.”
I glanced at Julia and her wide-eyed gaze met mine and then bounced between Fate and the reaper and I wondered if she saw the metamorphosis from reaper to boy or not. When Fate glanced in her direction, she shut her eyes, pretending to be asleep, but she didn’t fool anyone.
However, Fate was busy reading and when she looked up, those red blotches in her cheeks burned hot. Without a word, she handed me the paper and when I glanced at the next directive, I reached for the side of the bed, sitting heavy before my legs gave out.
“Memorial Day?”
“If you don’t stop this from happening, I’ll wipe the entire east coast off the map.” She spun and with a clap of thunder, disappeared.
Don’t Fear the Reaper
Chapter 25
I sat in the living room re-reading the sheet of paper and I looked at the kid next to me. “What’s your name?” I asked now that the shock was wearing off.
“Lazarus,” he said, his voice still deep and nothing like a teenager’s should sound like.
The irony of the name struck a chord and I stared at him, wondering if he was the Lazarus the Bible talks about.
He laughed at me. “Sorry to disappoint you son, but I’m a lot older than the Lazarus you’re thinking about.” He glanced toward the stairs and I followed his gaze.
Julia stood on the landing, just watching us, her gaze bouncing between the odd man-boy and me. “Your mom’s awake.”
“This is Lazarus,” I said, waving at the kid next to me.
“I heard.” Julia stepped off the landing and crossed to me, wrapping her arm around mine. “Thank you,” she whispered in my ear and kissed my cheek.
“For?”
“For saving my life twice this morning.”
I nodded and glanced at Lazarus. “Looks like the rogues have taken things to another level,”
Lazarus chuckled and shook his head, crossing to the window. “They’ve got the ranks completely snowed too. They told us Death deserted his post and gave us fate’s list. Except it really isn’t her list. It’s a fake aimed at pissing her off.”
“What’s happening on Memorial Day?”
“According to the directive, there’s going to be an explosion at the fireworks display that will take out most of this town,” Lazarus said. “Over a hundred reapers are on standby for this and they all think it’s part of Fate’s play book.”
“And no one questioned it?”
Lazarus stared at me. “Disasters occur all the time, or don’t you pay attention to what’s going on in the world around you?”
My initial response wasn’t appropriate and I clamped my mouth closed, stifling the harsh words. Instead, I asked, “So how do we stop it?”
“The only thing I can think of is for you to address the reapers.”
I raised an eyebrow and my mind flooded with the nightmare and the leagues of angry reapers. His suggestion didn’t sit well. It didn’t feel right and all I could think was this is a trap. “I don’t think so,” I answered.
The muscles in Lazarus’ face jumped, tightening to hard knots that equaled his glare. “You think...”
I held up my hand, stopping the beginning of his rant. “Look, I don’t know whose side you’re really on. All I know is you came in here to take my girlfriend away, and when Fate intervened, you complied to save your ass. That doesn’t mean I trust you.” My fingers sought the blade hanging on my thigh and the reassurance of its powers.
“Dylan Nicholas Ramsay.”
The admonishment came from the stairwell and I turned, taking in my mother’s unhappy stare. “What?”
“Language?”
Oh, for Christ’s sake! I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Sorry, Mom. This is Lazarus. He’s a reaper.”
Her face blanched and she shot her gaze in his direction. “What are you doing here?” And then on the heels of that question, “Why can I see you?”
Lazarus bowed in her direction, like she was the royal queen. “Ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
My mother stopped at the base of the stairs, her eyebrows expressing an arch of surprise before they settled into their normal inquiring line. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, ignoring the salutation.
“I, uh,” Lazarus stuttered, glancing from my mother to me and back. “Fate asked me to look after your son,” he said, waving a hand in my direction like a bad actor missing a cue on stage.
“From what I know, Fate and Death haven’t been on speaking terms for quite some time now. Why would she suddenly have any interest in the wellbeing of Death’s son?”
Lazarus blinked, his gaze bouncing as he tried to formulate an answer that would appease my mother. “Perhaps it is because your son is at the heart of a reaper civil war?”
“Bull,” my mom said. “She’s just as likely to take over the ranks and destroy the human race as some of the reapers.”
“What makes you think that?”
“She’s been gunning for my son ever since he was born.”
“That’s not true,” Lazarus snapped. “She’s just leery of him because he’s the only child in the history of the royal bloodline whose fate is not yet written.”
Surprise knocked me back a step. “I thought everything until the end of time was already written.”
“Yes it is, with one exception. You. That’s what happens when you’ve been resurrected from the dead - which tends to put a little kink in the overall plan.”
“W
hat are you talking about? Nick never died,” my mother sputtered.
“You aren’t exactly on the map either,” Lazarus said to my mother.
“Why didn’t Isabel tell me this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Lazarus said and turned back to my mother. “Fate’s plan dictated that you and your son die on September 11, 2001. But Dylan made a deal, and took his rightful place as Death in exchange for your lives, so there is some bad blood between Death and Fate, especially where Nick is concerned.”
“I was home with Nick,” my mother started and glanced at me.
I looked away, at anything but her imploring eyes.
“Nicky?”
I hated when she called me that and I glanced at her, nodding. “Isabel told me we died,” I said. “But she didn’t tell me that it was already written in Fate’s book that way.” I turned back to Lazarus. “So is this something that needs correcting like my Grandmother? Is that why everyone is up in arms about me ordering the reapers away from her?”
Lazarus shook his head. “No.” He shifted his weight and glanced out the window. “But the rumblings of you being able to order us around from this side of the grave have made quite a few reapers nervous.”
“Did you know who I was when you saw me upstairs?” I ignored the open-mouthed look my mother gave me.
“No.”
“Didn’t you wonder why I had Fate with me?”
“To tell you the truth, I was shocked beyond reason. No living human has ever had the audacity to call on her, never mind drag her around by the wrist like a child at show-and-tell.”
“You called Fate?” my mother gasped.
“Yes, because the first reaper to come after Julia had a bogus order. I thought she should know.”
“She was in this house?”
“Yes, Mom. She stopped Lazarus from taking Julia and that’s how we found out about the Memorial Day massacre,” I said. “She said I had to stop it otherwise she’d wipe out the entire eastern seaboard.”
“No pressure or anything,” Julia added.
“What exactly is the Memorial Day massacre?” my mother asked.
“The reapers are planning on wiping out the entire town of York on Memorial Day.”
My mom sat down on the couch and ran her hand through her hair-a familiar action that I mimic when I’m perplexed. She looked up at me and then moved her gaze to Julia, and Lazarus last. When she spoke, I almost laughed. She said, “I think I need a drink.”
Don’t Fear the Reaper
Chapter 26
Just for the record, funerals suck.
My grandmother’s wasn’t that bad, but then again, she was old and it was sort of expected. But the funeral for Julia’s parents was a nightmare. Everyone cried, saying they died so young, so tragically. Little did they know her parents weren’t supposed to die yet, so tragic was an extremely appropriate word to describe the situation.
The weight of the blame lay on my shoulders. If I hadn’t ordered the reaper away from my grandmother, the sequence of events leading up to the disaster wouldn’t have happened and her parents would still be alive.
Guilt bit at me, silencing any support I could give Julia. Instead, I sat in the pew holding her hand and stared at the floor, blocking out the priest and the eulogies. Tears burned my eyes and throat and at the end of the service, Julia yanked me from my reverie with four simple words, “It’s not your fault.”
Her whisper drew across my skin like a knife and I met her gaze. “Yes, it is. Everything that’s happened since my grandmother landed in the hospital is my fault.” My father, her parents, Isabel, and now possibly millions of people.
I had no idea how to stop the reapers and Lazarus’s only offering was to gather the reapers together so I could address them. Maybe he was right. Maybe if I spoke to them I could avoid the upcoming disaster.
The thing that kept me from agreeing to this was that stupid nightmare. An angry mob of reapers wanted me dead and that wasn’t something I could defend against, even with the knife on my hip or my limited martial arts training.
When the service was over, Julia made me stand with her in the procession line as the litany of distant relatives, acquaintances, teachers and school friends passed by offering condolences that would never erase the pain. She held up better than I did, perhaps because for her it was all still too surreal.
After the funeral, folks gathered at her house, and she and I slipped out back away from the din. I took a seat on the swing set and she joined me, swinging lazily back and forth, the creak of the chains offering little in the way of communication.
“I’m ready to go back to school,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I just want things to be normal again.” My sentiment produced a quiet laugh and I shrugged in response, but she was right. Nothing was ever going to be normal again no matter how much I wanted it to be.
“Maybe school will be good for us,” she said after a while.
“And maybe it’ll be a disaster,” I mumbled under my breath. The proverbial hourglass was emptying faster than I could account for and if I didn’t come up with a logical strategy, it wouldn’t matter anymore. I’d be just as dead as Julia and the rest of the town and the bloodline would finally be severed.
Lazarus approached from my yard and he took a seat on the end of the slide. He had been scarce since the confrontation with my mom earlier in the week and I didn’t know what he wanted with us now. He started to speak and then shut his mouth and studied the clouds in the sky. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he finally said, and glanced at Julia.
“Thanks,” she replied.
“Did you find out anything?” I asked.
He sighed. “I was able to convince a handful of reapers that the orders that Promethis gave them were bogus. They are still skittish about any sort of mutiny and wanted to know where Death was,” he said and met my gaze. “Do you know where he is?”
“He’s in Purgatory being guarded by Leviathan.”
His eyes widened and his complexion crossed from rosy-cheeked to pallid. “Leviathan?”
“Yup. That’s what killed Isabel.”
“Are you sure he’s still...intact?”
I loved the way he put that. Intact. As if the man wasn’t alive. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“That doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Isabel said as long as he’s alive, I’m in danger. If my father was dead, the job would default to me. I’d be Death if he was already dead. Is that wrong?”
Lazarus stared at the ground. “No, that’s not wrong,” he said.
He left it at that even though I sensed more. I didn’t push it because right now I was tapped out and any more bad news would darken my already gloomy mood. But the sun was shining and I needed some fresh air away from all this. “Want to skip out and go to the beach?” I said to Julia.
She glanced at her house and the debate was brief, she turned back to me with a nod and stood, ditching her dress shoes and leading the way through the path in her back yard. It wound between the houses, coming out near the high school and Long Sands road beyond.
The tide was out, leaving a considerable stretch of sand and we trotted down the stairs, heading across the grey pebbles to the hard packed sand and the swell of waves beyond. I left my shoes and socks at the edge of the rocks and relished the cool caress of the sand. I knew the water at this time of year was numbing, but I didn’t care, it reminded me that I was, indeed, alive.
Julia had more tolerance for the cold than I did and she stepped in to her calves, crossing her arms and shivering from the chill. I stayed in the shallow water, knowing if I ruined another pair of dress pants in the salty water, my mother would pitch a fit.
After a few minutes of watching her shoulders shake, I bent and rolled up my trousers, wading in next to her and ignoring the numbing sting. As I stepped beside her, she turned her tear stained face in my direction and a little piece of me died.
The pain in her
eyes shot through me and all I could do was pull her into a warm hug, holding her through the onslaught of sobs. I couldn’t even tell her it would be okay because even if we made it through this weekend, the end of the school year loomed and beyond that was the great unknown.
Don’t Fear the Reaper
Chapter 27
Julia and I stepped onto the bus Friday morning, subdued and quiet, but also relieved to be out of the morbid mood of both our houses. Even though it was a half day before the holiday weekend, it was still a half day with our friends. I just hoped the principal wouldn’t pull us all into a lame assembly to talk about the tragic accident. If he did that, I might just lose it and that wouldn’t be a pretty situation.
To my relief, the only mention of the numerous funerals was a highly unusual request for a prayer during the daily moment of silence along with the standard offer of an open door with the school psychologist for anyone who needed it.
The alarms started an hour before dismissal and I stiffened in my seat, my gaze snapping to the window. Fear jumpstarted my heart at the sight of so many reapers and beyond the sea of black, the sky swirled. I sprinted out of my seat, through the classroom door, skidding in the hallway as I bolted toward the exit. I needed to stop whatever they were conjuring.
Vibrations and heat radiated from the knife taped to my back and a teacher reached to stop my progression. I spun out of the way, ducking under his grasp and slamming into the doors, tumbling onto the steps. I stopped in my tracks with the hilt of the blade in my hand, but still hidden by my shirt.
“Stop!” I yelled and the sea of black turned in my direction. Their glowing eyes pierced mine, sending shivers up my spine. Lightning split the sky and in the time it took to blink, I had the knife out, blocking the path of the bolt. The charge sank into the blade, vibrating up my arm and I pointed it in the direction of the funnel cloud, sending the collected power into the twister. Wind and rain exploded outward in a blinding sheet, erasing the sea of reapers and leaving no remnants of the tornado behind. Only wispy clouds and the beginnings of a rainbow painted the sky.
