The Reaper (S E Rise's The Fade series Book 1)

by S E Rise

  S E Rise’s

  THE FADE SERIES

  BOOK ONE

  THE REAPER

  BY

  S E RISE

  This story isn’t about an 8 year old boy named Marley Jenkins; though at times it tends to seem like it.

  Chapter One

  I saw a dead man today and he started talking to me. He knelt beside me and we looked down upon his corpse. He asked me if I believed in God. When I told him “Not very much”…he started to cry. I wished I could cry as well because the man looked like my father…Only he wasn’t. No one should ever have to see their father cry…

  I wondered if he was someone’s father…I can see the wedding ring on the dead man’s hand but that didn’t mean he had kids. I heard the crying beside me slowly fade. I’m sure he had more pressing matters to attend to and I couldn’t blame him for leaving.

  I wondered if the man cried because I had told him I did not believe in God or if maybe…he didn’t believe in God and was only now regretting it.

  I don’t know why I lied…I do believe in a God but not the one that lives in the mainstream of society…That One isn’t for the likes of me. I gathered what little shadows there were around me and stood. The red dripped from the tip of my index finger and I brought it up. The taste was like sucking on a dirty penny covered in Pop Rocks and I reluctantly pushed the sensation aside. I casually slid my hand into the interior of the pocket and pulled the long soft black leather around me. The upturned collar brushed the edge of my cheek and I saw the movement from the corner of my eye.

  “Oh my God, did you see what happened?” She asked and for a moment I was happy. I looked down into the woman’s face and felt joy in the contact as her eyes took in my features. Her name is Maggie. Her eyes are almost a cornflower blue and they are the only thing pretty about her. I took what I could get though and tried to keep her from looking away.

  It felt good to be seen.

  “No, I didn’t. I just arrived myself.” I said and gestured with my hands to keep her attention. Her attention span was very short though and I let out a sigh as her eyes left my being. She knelt next to the dead man and checked his throat for a pulse.

  In the beginning it was amusing how they would immediately forget me…Now it was just…Nothing. Her eyes left the dead man’s chest and lighted upon the black of my leather shoes. She screamed just as I thought she would…My sudden and immediate presence had startled her and she lurched back and away from me.

  “Holy Shit! Where the hell did you come from?” She shouted at me and began to scramble crab like backwards. Her hand dug involuntarily into her pocket and I expected the Smart Phone to appear at any moment. I pulled out the blood stained index finger and pointed it towards the dead man.

  “Maybe you should help him instead.” I said and watched her eyes flick towards the body. The contact was once again broken and I took the moment to step back and away. Her eyes stayed on the dead man and as usual I was immediately forgotten.

  I turned and stepped closer to the forgotten pathway.

  Her voice was starting to crack with emotion as she began to explain to the 911 dispatcher what she had stumbled upon. I knew I wouldn’t be mentioned…I never am.

  It’s funny...even though it was a look of fear…I still enjoyed it….I would take what I could get.

  Sometimes though, it’s easier not remembering what that feeling is like…

  Chapter Two

  “Hello Phillip.” I said to the faint figure sitting in the damp darkness. A beam of streetlight pushed down through the grated slat. I spoke gently but I ended up startling him none the less. He brought his battle worn wooden cane up in a defensive manner and brought his other hand to rest on the orange and gray tabby cat by his side. The beast’s eyes were locked on me and it arched its back in challenge.

  A stream of watery gruel coated the sewer wall to my right and it stunk like the ass end of the city.

  “Who’s there?” He asked and I couldn’t help but hear the edge of fear in his voice. I knew Phillip didn’t get many visitors down here and the ones he did get were probably not human.

  The tabby let out a hiss in my direction and the old man reassuringly ran a hand along its back to calm him.

  “It is me Phillip...and it is time.”

  He took in a short quick breath and leaned forward to get a better look at me. He wouldn’t recognize me, no one ever did. No mortal anyway. But I knew Phillip. Phillip was 97 years old and over the years I had taken from him everyone he has ever known or loved. Phillip has seen me countless times and the Forget Me Spell has stolen the memory every time. Sometimes I wish I could be so lucky.

  But contrary to the spell, they say that when it is your time everyone recognizes Death’s approach.

  The Old Man let out the ragged breath and smiled. His mouth opened and his two good teeth caught purchase in the beam of the light.

  Thank you Phillip…Rarely do they smile for me.

  “Oh…so soon?” He asked and then laughed at his own joke. Only the very old can joke about death and find humor in it.

  I couldn’t help but smile with him.

  As his laughter lengthened into a coughing wheeze, he raised a hand for me to give him a second to catch his breath. The gesture actually made me like the old man even more. I complied and let him regain control of himself.

  “Well I have to say it took you long enough…” He said after catching his breath and there was almost a relieved enthusiasm in his voice.

  “I wasn’t in a hurry my friend.” I said and still had not stepped into the light enough for him to see me.

  “Will it hurt?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

  “No…not for you old friend.” I said gently and stepped into the light. His ruddy eyes lit upon me and he tried to pin me in place with his ancient glare.

  “You’re not what I expected…Wait… have we met before?”

  “I never am and to answer your second question... yes Phillip, we have met many times and I am truly sorry for that.”

  I left him like that, looking up with a smile on his face, one hand still petting his cat. A ruptured aorta as a result of his coughing fit. I pulled the shadows around me and took a few steps to the hidden passage. It was a shame really; Phillip had been down here so long that he had almost slipped into the Black. His humble underground dwelling had only been a few steps away. If he had done that then things might have turned out differently. The Underground or Tunnel Dwellers slip in all the time; more often than not though they never return simply because there are things in the black that do not wish to be found.

  My name is Jack, I am a Reaper.

  Chapter Three

  I crossed the avenue without being unceremoniously slaughtered by traffic and stepped onto the sidewalk. I placed a dollar onto the news boy’s counter, reached down and grabbed a paper. I knew from past experience he wouldn’t know I had taken a paper, so I left the money for him anyway. After a few steps I shook open the paper and tried to catch up with what was going on in the world.

  I tucked the paper and checked my cell phone for the time; it was later than I thought. I wanted a sandwich from McGuilicutty’s Delicatessen and Sandwich Shop. I had read about it the entertainment section of last week’s paper and I wanted to try it. I jaywalked to the other side and stood outside the entrance. The place had an old fashioned look to it. A look you really don’t find that much anymore. I grasped the handle of the entrance and winced as the bells shook above my head.

  The place smelled wonderful. As only places filled with meat and bread could.

  “Be right with you,”

  “No problem,’’ I s
aid to the voice coming from the back room. I glanced at the menu and quickly found the kind of sandwich I wanted.

  I heard her footsteps and then the swish of the curtain as she came around the corner; I grabbed my cell phone, brought it up to my ear, and proceeded to talk to no one. I turned away from her before she could see my face. From past experience I knew this method of interaction never went well, but I had to try. Most of the time, once they saw my face, they immediately forgot I was there. I know it is rude to order this way but I did it anyway.

  “Italian Roast beef, with extra provolone.” I said without facing her, “On white.”

  I could feel her staring at the back of my head; she was more than likely annoyed. I heard her grab the bread from the bread bin and the friction of the knife as it sliced through the bread. I still hadn’t faced her. I knew if I did she would instantly forget me and I would probably never get my sandwich. I heard her step to the right and begin to slice the meat. I snuck a glance and saw her shoulder length raven tresses settle into place on her back. Before I turned I saw the deftness in which she cut the meat and found myself impressed. The girl knew how to handle a knife. I turned my back to her once again and continued with my make believe conversation. It felt fake talking into an empty phone and I tried to make up for it by becoming more dramatic.

  I heard the sandwich being wrapped and I fished out a crumpled ten dollar bill and set it on the counter.

  Grabbed the sandwich and told her to keep the change.

  I stepped towards the door and looked down at my sandwich. This was probably the ugliest sandwich I had ever seen. I hung up on my make believe conversation and unwrapped a section of the sandwich as I walked. The bread looked like someone had smashed it in their fists and mayonnaise jutted from the sides and the depressed marks on the top. It looked like someone had beaten the hell out of my sandwich. Not only that, it was the wrong kind of sandwich. I had asked for an Italian Roast Beef with extra provolone, this was a bologna and cheddar.

  With extra Mayonnaise.

  I hated Mayonnaise

  I started to turn around and complain, but she beat me to it.

  “Sucks when someone doesn’t pay attention to you…doesn’t it?” She said from behind the counter.

  After the astonishment over the sight of my sandwich cleared I felt the irony of the situation stepping in. Against everything I knew, I turned around to see this person. She would forget me instantly but I needed to see the face of this girl. Her comment had struck home. It did suck when people didn’t pay attention to you.

  I turned around and looked into the eyes of a goddess. Or so she seemed to me. Dark shoulder length hair surrounded a porcelain face, a hint of freckles on the nose. Light blues eyes stared into me and didn’t look away.

  Her eyes stayed fixed on me. As long as they stayed fixed on me she wouldn’t forget.

  “Sorry about that.” I said apologetically. “Sometimes I’m a jerk.”

  “Apology accepted jerk, you’ll know better next time won’t you.”

  “Yes, I will thank you.” I stood there for a minute and waited for her to look away, or say something. She didn’t.

  Something was happening here and it was new to me. I felt my pulse quicken and I heard my breath come and go from my chest.

  “Well, get it right tomorrow and I’ll give you a better sandwich.” She said and glanced away. This would be the part where she forgot I was there. I turned to leave.

  Reached the door, pulled it open and the bells jingled.

  “Pull the closed sign down on your way out.” She said and I stopped in the door way. My head swiveled around so quick I nearly broke my neck.

  “What?” I said. I knew what she had said but I was too dumbfounded to function correctly.

  “I said pull down the closed sign on your way out.”

  “Ok,” I said and pulled down the cord to the roll up sign, stepped outside and looked back at the door. It was very rare that someone could beat the Forget Me Spell. Very rare. Not impossible but rare.

  Maybe she has a touch of that old magic in her.

  Interesting.

  Chapter Four

  What does a day in the life of a Reaper look like?

  The world continues forward whether you want it to or not. It’s up to you what you do with it. Actually, not in this case, this was something that I had to do whether I wanted to or not.

  I remember when Billy Turner first started riding a skateboard. He was battered and bruised more than most that pursue this endeavor. Why? Because Billy was a very large kid for his age and large kids as you may know do not necessarily have the practiced coordination of those who have been physically active their entire lives. I’m not bagging on the kid; I am definitely not one to judge. In fact, I try to avoid that part of existence. The judging and getting to know them part. But when you have nothing else really to do you end up watching the world as it goes by you.

  Billy Turner had gotten a lot better at skateboarding over the years; he had lost a lot of weight as well. The kid was damn good at it. Countless hours of practice and trial by error will do that. His little gang of followers and friends lurch along as only skateboarding teens can do. They seemed to have a patent on the Emo, not giving a shit, ambulation.

  Billy hadn’t moved up to the Alpha position yet but he was a close second or third in the hierarchy. The alpha spot belonged to a kid a couple years older than the rest named Jack Thornapple. He liked to go by the name Thorn. Couldn’t blame him really, the moniker of Thorn was pretty damn cool. The guy probably could have been a pretty good athlete if he had had a better upbringing. Unfortunately, Mary and Jim Thornapple were a bunch of wastrels that cooked up Meth out of their trailer. The others knew what his parents did and tried not to pay too much attention to it and Thorn never tried to push it on them. He would make deliveries for his folks but had not as of yet incorporated his gang in to the business. I imagined that step would be coming along sooner or later. It always does.

  Billy flipped and maneuvered the fat piece of wood and wheels, leapt, made the board roll in mid air and stuck the landing. It was a simple trick and almost every kid that had mastered the riding of a skateboard was able to do it. But Billy was exceptionally good at it. He made it look very easy in fact. So much that many of the others of the pack had noticed and went so far as to break code to give Billy his ups.

  This had not gone unnoticed by Thorn and I could see that he was not quite as impressed with it as the others were. I knew it by the look in the kid’s eyes. You can always tell when that person, how do they say it, doesn’t like anyone’s party but their own. I saw the streak of jealousy like it was a palpable thing. If Thorn wasn’t careful, Billy would be taking his spot as Alpha. That’s exactly what worried Thorn. You could tell. He knew he was getting to the age where he would have to give up the board and start becoming an adult.

  The others felt the tension as well and shrugged off the display. Billy, was oblivious of course, he was a pretty decent kid that did well in school. Or so I assumed, he had been carrying a huge backpack of books to and from school for the last three years. His parents were Mark and Ethel Turner, both worked hard at keeping their family together, healthy and functional. Mark had ridden a “Skinny” skateboard back in the day and saw his son’s interest as something he could approve of.

  Thorn knew he wasn’t as good as Billy and it tended to grate on that exposed nerve more often than not.

  Today of course it seemed to pour salt directly into that open wound. Especially when he saw the way that Marjorie had looked at his rival.

  It amazes me what you can pick up from just watching.

  I knew that this was going to end badly. I just didn’t know exactly how.

  Thorn pulled to a stop at the concrete basin of the old water treatment plant. Shit, this is where it was going to happen. I adjusted myself and felt my muscles and bones pop from sitting too long. I was used to it though; this wasn’t the first time I had to wait for it to
happen. It was going to happen though. I could feel the pain starting in my feet. Hell’s reminder that I had a job to do. I let my foot fall into the dusty sand of the hillside and allowed the other one to follow.

  Thorn was running at the mouth about how he had dropped into the Trench (that’s what the smooth pipes of the water plant were called) and made it through. None of the others had actually seen him do it but there were others who would confirm that he had actually done it. That was the myth and legend that made Thorn so appealing to most.

  Not many could brag about doing it and still maintain the unspoken respect.

  I saw the moment Thorn decided to up the game and call Billy out.

  What an asshole?

  “I think it’s time you stopped flipping that board around in Kiddie Land and took the plunge into manhood.” Thorn said to Billy and I could see the effect it had on the kid and everyone around him. Billy was good but not that good and everyone there knew.

  He tried to blow off the comment but Thorn wasn’t about to let it go.

  “Come on Billy, show us those skills. Be a man big boy.”

  The 96 inch ceramic pipe was built years ago when the city was first being founded. The developers had had dreams of building a metropolis, a city of the future. Everything was built on a ridiculously grand scale and the investors poured money into this place.

  That’s before the stock market collapsed, of course, and sent the nation into the Great Depression. I was very busy during those years.

  The drop into the half pike was nearly fifty feet and dark, but to get in you have to pull back the fencing and rebar. The stuff will slice chunks out of you. I hated to see this happening but there was little I could do.

  Billy clambered up, carefully pulled the fencing and rebar aside, careful to not slice himself open, gave Marjorie one last confident smiled and dropped. I heard the scrape of wheels as they caught on the sidewalls of the funneling chute; I heard a gasp and Marjorie cried out. There was a silence as the wheels of the skateboard no longer held contact to the surface of the wall…