0.5 Undead by Morning

by Joyce Lavene; Jim Lavene

  “The tests.” Dr. Wayne adjusted his glasses, and started again. “I’m sorry. Your body is shutting down. It’s only a matter of hours. We can’t stop the bleeding without surgery, and you’re too weak to take in again.”

  “That’s stupid.” I had to catch my breath to say it. “I’m not dying. I won’t leave Kate. And I have to figure out what happened to Jacob. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “It might be best if you make peace with this, Mrs. Mertz. I can call the hospital chaplain. Maybe he could help you.”

  “I don’t want a chaplain. I want to see my daughter. Can you do that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Wait.” Addie suddenly pulled herself together. She wiped her eyes, and blew her nose into one of her ever-present white handkerchiefs. “I need to talk to Skye alone, doctor.”

  Dr. Wayne seemed uncertain. “If she’s going to see her daughter, she should do so immediately. I don’t know how long she has.”

  “I understand.” Addie raised her chin, and stared him down. “We need a minute. We have things that need to be settled between us.”

  “Of course.” He nodded, and glanced back at me. “Just don’t take too long.”

  When he was gone, Addie came close to me again. “Skye, there’s one last thing we could do so that you don’t have to leave Kate.”

  “Are you a doctor now?” My words were barely audible.

  “There’s a man who can take care of this. I already called him when I thought—” She sighed. “When I thought he might be able to help Jacob.”

  “Who is he? What can he do?”

  “He can keep you alive to see Kate into a better place. She’ll be an adult when you leave. I think that’s the best we can make out of a bad situation.”

  “I don’t understand. Is he some kind of specialist? If so, bring it on.”

  “He’s not a doctor at all. His name is Abraham Lincoln Jones. If you agree, he can give you another twenty years of life. But you’ll have to do as he asks.”

  “That sounds like some kind of scam. I can’t believe you’d fall for that.”

  “It works. I know it works. It kept Jacob’s father alive for twenty years. But we have to act now. You have to agree. You have to sign his contract.”

  I tried to laugh, but couldn’t. There was precious little oxygen in my lungs. “Is he the devil? Does he want my soul or something?”

  “He might be.” She bit her lip. “But there’s something else you should know before you make this decision.”

  “What?”

  “I’m dying, Skye. Cancer. I only have about six months to live. Who knew cigarettes were really that bad for you? If you die, and I die—what will happen to Kate?”

  “Did you sign up with the devil too?” I asked. “Is there a buy-one-get-one right now?”

  “No. I can’t. I don’t have time to explain. He’ll take you, though. You have to agree.” Her gaze was intense. “Will you?”

  Maybe it was the pain. Or maybe it was that my brain wasn’t functioning right. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost four a.m. Only a short while before morning.

  If there really was a way to stay alive, and see Kate into adulthood—I didn’t care if the devil had me sign away my soul in blood. I was taking it.

  “Get him,” I said. “Hurry.”

  * * *

  Abraham Lincoln Jones introduced himself as Abe, holding out his big, black hand to me with a grim smile. I couldn’t lift my hand to shake his.

  “Hello, Mrs. Mertz. May I call you Skye?”

  His skin was shiny black. Even though we were inside, and it was essentially still night, he wore sunglasses. He was a big man—tall and bulky—with a wide chest. He was a man who couldn’t be easily ignored.

  “That’s fine.” I drew a shallow breath. “Addie says you can give me twenty more years with my daughter. How can you do that?”

  “A fair question. I have a certain . . . network of people who are able to accomplish tasks for me on a daily basis. You would be financially compensated, of course.”

  I studied his face above the starched white collar of his dress shirt. “In other words, they work for you.”

  “Yes. In return for your agreement to do those tasks for me, I will grant you twenty years of life. At the end of that time, you must agree to return that gift.”

  “I already have a job, thanks.” My chest wheezed as I drew in a breath. “How is this even possible?”

  “Magic, Skye.” He took my hand. “We don’t have much time. If you are interested in saving your life, you must sign my contract immediately. There is precious little of you remaining.”

  “Magic?” I sought and found Addie’s face at the foot of the bed. “Is this a joke?”

  She came close to me. “It’s not a joke. You have to sign the contract, and they’ll put a small tattoo on your foot. Abe has—abilities—that allow him to do this. You have to trust me. If you want to see Kate grow up, take his offer.”

  “But Addie.” I feebly shook my head. “There’s no such thing as magic. He’s a con artist. What did you pay him?”

  Abe’s big head came up sharply. He removed his dark glasses as he peered down at me. His eyes were blank and white, frightening in their empty intensity. “I beg your pardon? I do not accept gratuities for what I do.”

  I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Was I still dreaming?

  Addie was one of the most down-to-earth, practical people I had ever known. The idea that she would believe this seemed impossible. Magic? How had he convinced her?

  As if reading my mind, Addie explained. “Jacob’s father had a heart attack. They couldn’t save him. Abe came for him before he died. Because of the agreement, he was able to survive until Jacob was grown. Just like you with Kate.”

  I could feel my heart slowing. The pain had completely gone away, but with it also went reality. Everything became dreamlike as my body began to give up its hold on life.

  Kate.

  Her precious laughter whispered through me, making me shiver. I could see her eyes, smell her hair.

  All I could think about was Kate. No matter what this man wanted me to do, I’d do it so she wouldn’t have to be alone. That was all I needed to know. If he said he had magic, and Addie knew it was true, I was willing to take my chances.

  What do I have to lose?

  “All right. Let me sign the contract. Put the tattoo on my foot.”

  “Welcome to the family, Skye.” Abe touched my hand again. Someone with him—a thin, blond teenager—handed him a pen and a sheet of paper. “Sign here, and the process can commence.”

  I signed the paper the best I could. The blanket and sheet were shoved back from my foot. There was a sharp buzzing noise from the end of the bed. I kept waiting for it to hurt, but I didn’t feel a thing.

  “Now what?” Breathing was becoming more difficult by the moment. My pulse was slowing. “Are we done? Am I going to survive?”

  “You will survive, Skye.” Abe’s face was very close. “It’s upon us now. Take a deep breath, and close your eyes. Don’t be afraid. A new life awaits you on the other side.”

  I knew I’d been conned, but it was too late to do anything about it. I closed my eyes. A deep breath was impossible. I heard Dr. Wayne’s voice muttering in the background. The heart monitor made a sharp whining sound, and everything went black.

  * * *

  I woke up slowly. My eyes opened into thin slits, trying to avoid the bright lights above me. Was this heaven—or hell?

  There was a shuffling sound, like someone rustling paper. I glanced in that direction. The thin blond teenager was doing something on a counter.

  I tried to speak. The words wouldn’t come out. I cleared my throat, and tried again. What I said didn’t make any sense, but the teenager turned around.

  “Hey! I’m Brandon. I’ll just call you Skye. How do you feel?”

  I tried to reply, but only a hoarse croak came out.

  “Oh. Sorry.”
He held a glass with a glass straw in it to my lips. “Drink a little water. Death is hard on the vocal chords.”

  I sipped, and stared at him. “So I’m dead?”

  He grinned. “Technically—although you won’t notice any significant difference from when you were alive. The living are almost the same as zombies. We can eat, but we don’t have to. We don’t sleep much. It’s important to keep hydrated. You won’t feel heat or cold.”

  “Zombies?” I coughed, and choked on the water. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re a zombie. I’m a zombie. Abe’s a zombie. Most of the people around here are zombies.”

  “Does that mean we eat brains or something?”

  He laughed hard, countless lines fanning out from his eyes and mouth. I realized that he was far from being a teenager. “I’ve never eaten a brain, and I’ve been doing this a long time. You watch too much TV. We’re zombies—created from old magic. We don’t eat brains, and we don’t fall apart. We do what Abe says, and we live twenty years.”

  My brain was starting to feel normal. “Why twenty years?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t run the show.”

  A door opened out of my line of vision. There was a breeze that moved through the room. I was in a cold storage area where bodies were kept. It wasn’t the morgue, but a mortuary of some type.

  “Skye!” Abe’s booming voice hailed me like a long lost cousin. “You’re awake. It’s good to see you. How do you feel?”

  I started to snipe back at him. How do you think I feel? I have a bucket load of broken bones and internal injuries.

  Then I realized—nothing hurt.

  I sat up slowly with Brandon’s help. “I’m okay. What happened? How did I get here? Am I completely better?”

  “Yes. You would be of little use to me in a wheelchair,” Abe said. “I have a specific job in mind for you. I’m glad there was an opening.”

  Everything was so crazy at that moment. I was dead. I was alive. All of my injuries were healed.

  Addie had been right. If magic was the explanation, I was grateful for it.

  I started to get to my feet, sliding off the cold slab. I realized I was naked. Brandon openly leered at my breasts.

  That made sense—as much sense as anything else that was happening. “Did you bring my clothes with you?”

  Brandon’s pale blue eyes never moved from a spot near my naval. “Over there. On the chair. Addie brought something for you.”

  Meaning he’d watch me walk over there and get dressed.

  I didn’t care. I was alive. I could be with Kate until she was an adult. What was a little leering compared to that?

  “What job are you talking about?” I asked Abe who’d politely turned his back as soon as I’d stood up.

  “My organization requires a type of individual who can sometimes convince people to do the right thing when their twenty years is up,” he explained. “Most of my people realize what has to be done, and they plan for it accordingly. There are a few who don’t handle it as well. In either case, we provide transportation here at the end of their time.”

  I quickly took stock of my body. My heart was still beating. I could smell that peculiar dead scent in the room. Everything seemed to be working. There were scars from the surgery when they’d tried to save my life—and from the time when I was six and fell off the swing.

  I sat on the chair, and pulled on my jeans. It was the first time I’d noticed the pale blue tattoo on the heel of my foot. It was a stylized A with a circle around it. Probably for Abe. It kind of made me feel like his property. Maybe that was the idea.

  “In other words, being a former police officer makes me a good candidate for persuading zombies who don’t want to come back on their own.”

  “I prefer not to use that term.” Abe gave Brandon an irritated glance. “Did you have to share that horrible terminology so soon?”

  Brandon shrugged, and turned away.

  “Come outside with me, Skye,” Abe invited. “I’ll explain your duties.”

  “Is it part-time? Can I go back to the police department?” I was thinking about finding out what happened to Jacob, of course. There would be friends there that would be glad to help me.

  “That life is over now. This is your new life, during which time your daughter will blossom into a lovely young woman.” He walked steadily out the door as he spoke.

  I followed him until we were standing next to a large, white cargo van. It wasn’t a new vehicle. It wasn’t even in good condition. The paint was chipped, and the sides were dented in places.

  “So you want me to drive your taxi for the dead, huh?” I walked around the van as I examined it. “Anything else?”

  “Taxi for the . . .?”

  “You know—drive your van full of dead people where you want them.”

  “Yes.” He seemed disturbed by the concept. “Odd, but apt, I suppose.”

  “Anything else?” I was itching to see Kate.

  “Live your life to the fullest, and prepare for the day when a driver comes for you. That’s all I ask of any of my people.”

  “You got it. Thanks.”

  I thought about Jacob, and wished Addie had been able to get to him in time so that he was standing here instead of me. Knowing he was gone left a dead feeling inside of me that no magical re-animation would ever repair.

  But for Kate’s sake, it had to be all right. I had to do as Abe asked, and help my daughter live a good life. Jacob would’ve wanted that. I could make it work.

  “One last thing.” Abe handed me the keys to the van. “I know you believe that your husband did not die in the crash that killed you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll look into it.”

  “That is exactly what I don’t want you to do, Skye. This is your new life. Leave the old one behind. That includes Jacob’s death.”

  I couldn’t believe he wanted to make that part of the deal, but I could see that he was serious. I swallowed hard as a sense of injustice and rage welled inside of me.

  I pushed it down deep. “Okay. I’ll leave it alone—if that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you. It is what I want.”

  Abe explained that the van was mine to take home, and that he would call when I was needed. I watched him walk away with two large bodyguards falling in behind him.

  My new life. I had to do what was necessary—for Kate’s sake.

  But it wouldn’t stop me from finding out what happened to Jacob. That was a promise I meant to keep.

  * * *

  Read the first novel in the Taxi for the Dead Paranormal Mysteries:

  Broken Hearted Ghoul – coming March 4, 2014

  It’s been two years since Skye Mertz agreed to drive Abe’s Taxi for the Dead, transporting his zombie workers back to the man who gave them an additional twenty years of life. She’s raising her daughter, with the help of her ghostly mother-in-law, and keeps looking for what killed her husband the night she died.

  Now she has a partner—a homemaker working off her zombie husband’s service—and she’s met a sorcerer with amnesia. It shouldn’t be surprising that a broken hearted ghoul, bent on getting revenge, should show up too. After all, there’s no rest for the dead.

  About the Authors

  Joyce and Jim Lavene write bestselling mystery together. They have written and published more than 60 novels for Harlequin, Berkley and Gallery Books along with hundreds of non-fiction articles for national and regional publications.

  Pseudonyms include J.J. Cook, Ellie Grant, Joye Ames and Elyssa Henry

  They live in rural North Carolina with their family, their rescue animals, Quincy - cat, Stan Lee – cat, and Rudi - dog.

  Visit them at:

  www.joyceandjimlavene.com

  www.Facebook.com/JoyceandJimLavene

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorJLavene

  Amazon Author Central Page: http://amazon.com/author/jlavene

  Table of Contents

 
Undead by Morning

  About the Authors