The Reburialists

by J. C. Nelson

  “She’s not. I can’t let myself fight her the way I would a Re-Animus. But she is really good. What’s with the look?”

  “You’re being a goddamned idiot. If I believed in a god. Or hell. Any god that can afford a heating bill for hell but not feed starving people isn’t a god I want to follow. What makes you think there’s a Re-Animus in Vegas?”

  Brynner wiped sweat from his face with a towel. “You did.”

  I did what?

  He pulled a couch back from the kitchen and sat on the arm. “Look, I don’t agree with you about the Re-Animus being parasites, but you were right about other things. Come here. I want to show you something.” Brynner stood and walked to his bedroom door.

  “I don’t think—”

  “It’s my office.” He glanced to a set of double doors. “That’s the bedroom. Jesus, Grace, when did things get so awkward?”

  I shoved him to the side and walked into the sparse office. “How about when you told me to stay away from you? Does that ring any bells?” I studied the full-wall monitor, a Mercator map lit in shades of red.

  “I was—wasn’t—thinking. You want me to tell you how you were right or not? Dad said women love being right. And that Mom was usually right.”

  He touched a point on the monitor, and it zoomed in on the States. “I’m not good with these graphs, but it turns out we have a lot of people working at BSI who are. These are maps of every report, confirmed or not, of Re-Animus activity. Thirty-five years’ worth of data.”

  Some states flared dark red. Nearly crimson along the East Coast.

  “Here’s Bentonville. Notice anything odd?”

  I did. I should have seen it sooner. “Almost nothing. What was it the director said? Not exactly a hotbed of activity.”

  Brynner put his finger down on an area in the south. “What she didn’t say was that Dad killed his first Re-Animus right here. An old one. A strong one, though nothing like the Sin Eater. There’s been no activity for nearly thirty years since. You told Amy they behave like territorial animals.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We’ve been training for the last week. She’s the only one crazy enough to still get in the ring with me. I almost beat her the other day. The point is, you were right. Now look at Vegas. If it weren’t for the casinos’ financing private patrols, that place would be a ghost town. No one in their right mind would live there.”

  I reached out, tentatively touching the dot, and the map moved. Up close, Vegas was covered in co-org sightings, minor attacks, major deaths. “You think killing this one will make a difference? Or is this about revenge?”

  “Grace, the Sin Eater is old, and powerful. I’ve met it in Europe twice, once on a boat. We kill it, we take out a major force among the Re-Animus. And I can do it. I almost had it at the hospital.”

  I shook my head. “If you recall right, it nearly killed you at the farm, and if I hadn’t been there to save you on the truck—”

  “You were.”

  “That’s not the point. You have no idea where in Vegas that thing is. You have no way to contact it, and even if you could, you’d be picking a fight you might lose permanently.”

  He put one hand on my shoulder. “I won’t. Because I’m not going alone. I’m taking Amy with me. I’d like to take you. You’re part of my team.”

  I couldn’t respond for a number of reasons, not the least of which was his touch on my shoulder. “What happened to ‘I need to keep you safe’?”

  Brynner dropped his hand and turned away. “The last few weeks have been the worst of my life. At first, I thought I needed to push everyone away.” He shook his head. “You’d think I would know better. It didn’t work for Dad. You don’t have to go, but I’d feel better if I knew you were with me.” When he turned around again, he took both my hands. “I’m not waiting another week. Probably not another day. What do you say? Go with me? Be part of my field team?”

  Twenty-Seven

  BRYNNER

  Grace bit her lip, looking down. “No.”

  I blinked, resisting the urge to shake my head. “‘No’ what?” She looked up at me, her eyes on fire. “No, I won’t go with you to Las Vegas. I won’t help you throw your life away when a few months might make all the difference. How do you plan to find a Re-Animus, if it’s even there?”

  Now, that part I’d actually given some thought to. “That one hates me like you wouldn’t believe. It would do anything to kill me. So I’ll show up in Vegas. Give a few interviews. Go to casinos, and then, I’m going to head out into the streets, back alleys, and just wander. I don’t have to find it. It will come for me.”

  Grace went from angry to flat-out furious in one blink. “You are insane.” She pushed me, her palms firm against my chest. At least she tried to push me, and it was the thought that counted. Plus, I liked her touch, even when her goal was to anger me.

  I tried Dad’s way of making women happier. “You have a better plan that doesn’t involve waiting? I’m not proud. You come up with a better one, I’ll run with it. Otherwise, I’m going with this one.”

  “Oh, I have a better plan, all right.” She shouldered her way around me and slammed the apartment door on the way out. I’d offered to take her with me. What more did she want? Maybe if I told Grace it was the thought of her that kept me from falling into a rage haze, she’d listen.

  My cell phone rang, and I ran to pick it up, hoping it might be Grace.

  “Carson speaking.”

  “Brynner,” said Director Bismuth, “may I see you in my office, immediately?” Her tone said it wasn’t a request.

  When I reached Director Bismuth’s office, I found Grace sitting in one chair and the director sitting at her desk. She pointed to the open chair. “If you don’t mind?”

  I sat.

  The director looked at me over her glasses. “Ms. Roberts has concerns about your operation in Vegas.”

  “That’s exactly why I wanted her to come with me. I don’t listen to Dale, but Grace makes a good voice of reason.” I didn’t look at Grace but chose my words with care. I was already in a hole with her. “What do you think?”

  The director’s gaze locked onto Grace. “Ms. Roberts no longer has field operative status, so I believe that’s out of the question. She’s clearly expressed her desire to not go.”

  “That’s not what I said.” Grace looked over to me, her jaw set. “I told her I didn’t want you getting killed for nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Director Bismuth cocked her head. “The death of a Re-Animus, particularly a powerful, high-ranking one, would go far to ease the public mind. Perhaps you haven’t been paying attention, but we’ve had four hundred times the number of co-org incidents in the last two weeks. I could hardly call this nothing.”

  I sat forward, willing Grace to look at me. “It’ll cause a power vacuum. Upset the balance of power among them, leaving them open for us to find more of them and kill them.” Why wouldn’t she look at me?

  She finally did, her tone cold as the steel in my blades. “And if you die, it’s a coup for them.” She looked to the director. “Didn’t you say he was your general? Don’t you usually keep generals somewhere safe?”

  “I recall telling you a number of things, Ms. Roberts. Brynner is not my slave, nor yours. If he chooses to take a risk with such high reward, it is not my place or yours to interfere.” With every word, she seemed to nail Grace to the wall.

  I could fix this. “I’m done waiting for the Re-Animus to hurt innocent people. I’m ready for them to be afraid. Afraid every day of their miserable existence that today might be Brynner-Carson Day. The day I show up and end them.”

  I reached out to pat her hand. “You knew my aunt and uncle. I thought you might want to get revenge as well.”

  She stood up and turned to the door. “Not nearly as much as I want you alive.”

  Her answer left me completely stunned. “Then come with me and keep an eye on the co-org activity reports. I’ll let you decide i
f the situation looks too dangerous. You say the word, I’ll scrub the mission and we can fly back to Seattle. Together.”

  “Ms. Roberts.” The director spoke like a death sentence. “I appreciate your concern for Mr. Carson’s safety, but this is none of your business.”

  Grace shot back, “You don’t get to say that.” Her voice trembled. Her body trembled, and I rose to envelop her in my arms, wanting to calm her.

  I had my nose buried in Grace’s hair when the director spoke. “You know how much I appreciate what you’ve done for us, Ms. Roberts. You’ve captured a Re-Animus. Made amazing discoveries I’m sure you will improve upon. Most important, you returned Brynner to us when we thought he was gone forever.”

  Grace’s body went rigid, where seconds before she clung to me. I let go for a moment. The words didn’t make sense. I put my hands on her cheeks and looked into her eyes. “What is she talking about?”

  Director Bismuth spoke louder, almost shouting. “When you quit, in New Mexico, I honestly had no way to encourage your return. Ms. Roberts approached me and offered to convince you. For a fee, of course.”

  I let go of Grace and stepped back, trying to read her emotions, but the only thing I saw was terror. She’d been caught. “Grace. What . . .is this?”

  The director continued, as if reading the morning news. “We’re grateful to Ms. Roberts for her service. And Ms. Roberts, I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I met with the board of directors, and we agree that your unauthorized access of Brynner’s personal files merits no further action. We’ll amend your personnel record appropriately.”

  “What files?” I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. The world seemed to spin around me.

  The director’s chair squeaked, and her voice moved as she spoke, coming near. “When Ms. Roberts was in the hospital. You used her laptop, and afterward, she used it as well. Mostly reports on your mother’s accident. Your personal e-mail. Your field notes. Oh, and the video of our interview regarding your mother’s disappearance.”

  Grace didn’t have to confirm it. The look of shock and fear told me everything I needed to know. Almost everything. “Why? Why didn’t you just ask?”

  Grace’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I was afraid you would say no.”

  Like I could have refused her anything. Even worse, she’d lied to me. “You had no right. None.”

  She didn’t answer, just stood there, her mouth hanging open.

  I looked to the director. “I’ll leave as soon as possible.”

  With a nod to the door, I spoke to Grace. “Get out. Now.”

  Twenty-Eight

  GRACE

  My feet wouldn’t move, and my mouth had picked an inconvenient time to stop cooperating. I stood in the director’s office and tried to think of something to say, anything that would explain to Brynner why I’d watched that video.

  “If you aren’t leaving, I am.” He stalked out of the office, and a moment later the elevator ding told me he’d gone.

  “Why?” I found my tongue and wanted to leap on Director Bismuth and take out my frustration on her.

  She sat down and began organizing papers. “I warned you not to interfere with my general. The choice was completely yours. You can’t blame me for your decisions. I hear that you made a call to Personal Resources. While their matters are confidential, I could most certainly find out why, if I put my considerable resources to it.”

  I’d never call Personal Resources again. Ever.

  Director Bismuth tapped the screen on her tablet and studied it before responding. “You may think I have no leverage to keep you cooperative now. You would be wrong.”

  I took out my phone and unlocked it. “And if I call Brynner right now, you lose your leverage.”

  My blood ran cold as she leaned forward in her chair. “It would be a shame if the location of your daughter’s facility leaked out. You are safe here. No Re-Animus can lay a claw upon you. Not everyone is so fortunate.”

  “Bitch.” I fought the urge to fling a stapler at her. Or myself.

  She didn’t even flinch. “I’m making decisions in the interest of humanity. You are deciding with your crotch. Which of us is the bitch?”

  I’d wear that title with pride, if it meant making the right decisions. “What use is a dead general?” Unless—“Not a general. A martyr. Do you want him dead?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Our recruiting classes have swollen to six times the normal size in the last week. Your face, young lady, is driving more qualified applicants than his. You are dismissed, Ms. Roberts.”

  I was dismissed. Like so much garbage, waved away. I picked up my phone and held it up for her. “I wasn’t calling anyone. This is a voice memo app. If anything happens to my daughter, I’ll make sure this gets leaked on the Internet. You want to risk that?”

  “Clever.” She nodded to the phone. “I might have expected as much from you. My ability to hold my tongue is contingent on yours, then.” She looked down at the desk, making a point of ignoring me until I left.

  More than anything, I wanted to go straight to Brynner and thrust the phone in his face, making him listen. The risks were simply too high. While I could afford to house Esther almost anywhere, if her location leaked out, she would be in danger, and I couldn’t move her again so soon. It put too much strain on her fragile body, so that was out of the question. I wandered aimlessly, finding my way back to the apartment more by accident than design.

  Inside, Amy waited, sitting cross-legged on a chair.

  “Grace Roberts, what is wrong?”

  And I told her. Everything. About the files, and the motel. And the video. Just as I started to describe the director’s threat about my daughter, Amy held up her hand, her head cocked to the side in rapt attention. “The jar, is it the heart the old ones desire?”

  I nodded. “I’m certain. The inscription said, ‘Ra-Ame, daughter of the pharaoh. Her heart, for eternal death.’”

  “That matches what I know of it. What happened to it?”

  I went into my room and brought out volume forty-two of Heinrich’s journals, which remained my light reading at night. “The answer is somewhere in here. Have a go at it.”

  Amy flipped one open and began to read, her mouth forming familiar sounds. I couldn’t help smiling, even though my own heart might as well have been torn out and placed in a jar. She struggled further and further, finally slamming the book down. “Garbage. This is garbage, madness. I knew children who wrote the old language better.”

  “Then you’re going to love one of these.” I handed her one of the final journals.

  After three pages, she looked up. “You can read this?”

  “It’s an acquired skill. I’ll show you how I did it, if you want. You have to get inside Heinrich Carson’s head. Understand how he thought. He’s using the same style as the Re-Animus, but with his own vocabulary.”

  Amy pushed the book back to me. “I could never learn this way of writing the old language. You must do this. When you know where it is, it must be recovered.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “The old ones love to drive bargains. In exchange for her heart, Ra-Ame might let Brynner live. In exchange for her heart, Ra-Ame might forgive your trespass, your theft of knowledge.” She tapped the journal. “If you want to save that man, this is the key. You are the key.”

  I’d pissed off everyone else today. Why not Amy? “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything, Grace Roberts. I am not required to answer, so you may ask.”

  “Why are you here? You said you came to help guard the Re-Animus, but you were in the support convoy.” It’d been bugging me off and on for days.

  Amy gave me a knowing smile. “Are the men in this country accepting of women’s claims? Or do they believe that perhaps I would make a better nurse than butcher of the dead?”

  “I’m so sorry. Men are pigs. Most of them.”

  Amy took a blade out of her sheath and ran it along the bangles on her wrist.
“And to answer your question, I had to see this Brynner Carson myself. His name is whispered, revered, feared. So many legends about this man ‘Carson.’”

  “That would be Heinrich Carson.” I grabbed my laptop from the table and brought up a picture of the elder Carson, then handed it to her. “Another question?”

  Amy held up both hands with palms out, waiting.

  “You’re Egyptian. You probably know the history better than I do. I thought Canopic jars never held the heart. It always stayed with the body. The inscription says ‘for eternal death.’ Why was Ra-Ame’s removed? Was it a punishment?”

  Amy’s face clouded over, and she scrunched up her face in thought. “An insightful question. I will not say I know the answer. Would you accept one of your theories?”

  At that point, I’d accept a crayon drawing. “Anything. I’m coming up blank here.”

  “In the old days, people believed the heart was the seat of the Ib. You would say ‘soul,’ but to them, it was the key to the afterlife. I have heard it said that she requested it be separated. Perhaps removing it was her way of seeking eternal death. A death from which there could be no return.”

  An immortal creature that desired death. “I’m guessing she didn’t find it.”

  “No, Grace Roberts. I do not believe she did.”

  “And this Ra-Ame, you believe she exists?” I knew the answer. Amy probably believed in the Easter bunny and the tooth fairy, too, but there weren’t undead creatures worshipping them.

  Amy looked me in the eyes, her face calm. “You do not believe in anything, Grace Roberts, so I cannot give you an answer that makes sense. Does it matter if Ra-Ame is real? If the old ones revere her, and offer her sacrifices, and act on her behalf, is she not real?”

  “Yes, it matters. If she’s fake, or dead, or doesn’t exist anymore, we’ve got a war on our hands, but one we can win.”

  Amy nodded. “And if she is real?”

  “Based on what I’ve seen the Re-Animus do, if Ra-Ame is his god, and she’s real, we’re completely screwed. What if Brynner goes to kill that thing and it calls on her?”