Life, A.D.

by Michelle E. Reed

  This time around, though, she’s brought company.

  “Hey, Dez.” Charlie’s voice is cautious as he approaches. With the agility of a cat, he makes his way across the room and sits down on the edge of my bed.

  I’m too exhausted to be startled by his sudden appearance at my side, but I press my pillow hard against my face, trying to hide. “Charlie, please don’t. I don’t want you to see me like this.” The humiliation of breaking down in front of both him and Crosby is more than I can take.

  His gentle hand rubs my back. “I know how it feels, Dez. You don’t have to do this alone. Remember what I told you about my first week?”

  Nothing can break through this funk. The shame and humiliation of sneaking off to the city, misjudging Charlie, and royally screwing up with Crosby is probably going to keep me in this bed forever.

  “I can sit here with you, if you’d like.”

  “Not right now, please, Charlie.”

  “Okay, but I’ll be back again in a little while to check on you. Deal?”

  I shrug, but don’t know if he can see it through my cocoon of blankets and pillows.

  True to his word, Charlie comes back a short time later. Hannah lets him in, but leaves us alone.

  He calls to me from the couch. “Will you come sit with me, Dez?”

  “No.” Until I’m dragged out of this bed, I’m not budging.

  “Please? You need to get up and get moving again. Nothing’s going to get better until you at least get out of bed.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. You’re strong.”

  “I told you, I don’t want you to see me like this!”

  The side of my bed sinks as he sits down. “What are you so afraid of? This isn’t like life, Dez. You can’t get by on your own stubborn will. We all need each other, and the sooner you accept it, the sooner you’ll start to feel a lot better. That’s why we’re all here, together. You don’t have to be ashamed to cry in front of me. Or scream, or rant, or anything else you can think of.”

  All I want is to be alone.

  “Have you heard how I died?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “I was at a party. Senior graduation blowout. Everyone was drinking, acting like idiots. You know how those things are. Plus, my eighteenth birthday was only six days away, so double the trouble, right?

  “The party was out in the middle of nowhere. This kid lived out on a little hobby farm, and his parents chose that week to go on a cruise. They left right after the graduation ceremony. I mean, who does that? One of the many highlights of the evening was when my buddy Chris jumped off the roof of the barn. Lucky for him, he hit a pile of hay bales, so he managed not to break his neck. Banged up his hip pretty good, though.”

  Charlie rubs his fingertips across my back as he tells his story. I stay huddled under the blanket; my one concession is moving the pillow away from my face.

  “I had found out the previous fall I had a heart murmur. I had an athletic physical for hockey, same one I had every year, and that time they found it. They did a bunch of tests, but didn’t seem too worried. They just wanted to keep an eye on me.

  “Anyway, back to the party. Chris comes in the house after his stunt, and says, ‘Did you guys see me? I jumped off the roof!’ None of us believed him, so he went out and did it again. He twisted his ankle that time, but he was fine.

  “We all went back in the house, and Chris pulls this little envelope out of his pocket. He says, ‘You really wanna fly? Try one.’ I asked him what he had. It was ecstasy. I’d never tried it before, but I popped one in my mouth. I don’t know if it was a bad batch, or my heart, or a combination of the two, but here I am. Dead because I was lured in by the worst line ever. Pretty stupid, huh?”

  “Your stupid doesn’t cancel out mine. Do you not remember what I did? Going to the city, getting you and Bobby in trouble, and—” I’m too embarrassed to go on.

  “It’s over. Don’t even worry about it. We all did dumb things, otherwise we wouldn’t be here, right?”

  He rubs my back and I try to muster the strength to say something. Anything. “Herc was right. It was a car accident,” I whisper.

  Charlie pulls the covers away from me. He reaches over to smooth my braids away from my face.

  I sit up. He slides over and puts his arm around me. We lean back against the headboard and I settle into his arms. His strength bolsters me just enough to make the pain and fear bearable. He feels warm and secure, and at last I feel safe enough to talk.

  My voice quavers as I begin to speak. “I was driving home. The weather was cool, but I had the windows down because it felt like spring was coming. The air had that smell, you know?” My cheek rests against his chest.

  Charlie nods. “Those kinds of days were always my favorite.”

  The words pour out as I tell him everything: the shame, the fear, my terrifying last moments. He strokes my hair as he holds me, trying his best to console an inconsolable girl.

  “I was so scared. There was so much blood and my arm was mangled. … ” I try to block out the memory.

  “We all make mistakes, Dez. Sometimes it takes just a second to change things forever.”

  “I don’t do things like that. I’m always so careful.” I wrap my arms around him, desperate to hold on to something real.

  “It’s okay now.” He holds me tight as I fight against the fear and my aching desire to go home.

  “What did I do? My mom and dad, they’re so—”

  “They’ll find a way to be okay, Dez. You have to believe it. You can’t let yourself go crazy worrying about them, or you won’t be able to get through this yourself.”

  “I saw them.”

  “Before you died?”

  “No, when I had the link-burst.” My cheeks burn at the recollection of collapsing in front of everyone, the embarrassment still fresh in my mind. “And then in the pod.”

  “Tell me,” he whispers into my ear.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  My body shakes from head to toe, but I manage at last to get the words out, and I tell him everything. Charlie sits quietly, listening with unending patience to every last word.

  “Did the pod hurt you?”

  “I felt pain, but I think it was from my parents. It was too much.”

  “I don’t get why they even have those things in the first place, especially in some dive bar. They have to serve some purpose.”

  I sniffle. “Not like they’re ever going to tell us, though.”

  “Are you really going to let it go?”

  “I don’t know.” I rub my face to clear the heavy fog muddling my thoughts. “My mom and dad were picking out my casket. What was I thinking, listening in on that?”

  Charlie brushes his fingers against my cheek. “You don’t have to deal with this alone. Not anymore.”

  “That’s what scares me more than anything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The words stick in my throat. “I … I can’t.”

  “Come on. You’ve come this far. Just let it out.”

  “I don’t want to get too close.”

  “To me?”

  I nod.

  “Too late,” he says. “But why is that a problem?”

  “Aside from breaking the rules?”

  “Well, yeah. You’re not going to let that stop you, so what is it?”

  “You’re going to leave. Hannah, too. You’re going to get your tickets out, and I’m going to be stuck here.”

  “Separation is only temporary. Don’t forget that. After this, we’ll all be together again. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re the toughest girl I’ve ever met. You’re going to be fine.”

  I pull away and prop myself up with pillows. “You must have hung out with a lot of wimps if you think I’m tough. I used to be, maybe, but I don’t know what I am now. You and Hannah are my only friends, so sorry if I don’t share your optimism about how I’ll be without you here.”

 
Charlie looks down at his bracelet. “I’m not going anywhere for a while, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”

  I reach for his wrist, but he hides it under the corner of the comforter.

  “What did they do?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

  “We can talk about it later.”

  “Let me see.”

  “Just don’t freak out, okay? It’s really not a big deal.”

  I pull his arm out from under the blankets.

  LEVEL 02-002-322

  My heart sinks and fresh tears well up in my eyes. “What did I do?”

  He takes my face in his hands. “I’m the one who followed you. This is not your fault.”

  “Why are they punishing you for my screwups?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m a big enough screwup on my own. You were just the icing on my cake of rebellion.” He manages to coax the tiniest of smiles out of me. “Feeling better?” he asks.

  “If I say yes, are you going to try and make me get out of bed?”

  “Dez, you can’t stay in here forever.”

  “Sure I can. You think I want to go out there and face everyone? You’re crazy.”

  He slips his arm around my shoulders. “There isn’t one person out there who hasn’t been through this same thing. I promise nobody will think less of you.”

  “Really? You mean everyone else sneaked into the city, used a communication pod, and brought down the unholy wrath of Crosby upon themselves and their friends?”

  “Well, maybe not that, exactly, but I promise nobody’s going to judge you.”

  I pull back and give him a frown. “I can think of two somebodies who will be more than eager to do just that.”

  “Okay, well, my roommate and Abbey aside, everyone else will be fine. Now come on.”

  “I’ll go sit on the couch, but I’m not going out there.” I cross my arms. Discussion over.

  He throws his hands up. “At least it’s in the direction of the door.” He leans over to give me a hug.

  Hello, butterflies. Where have you been?

  “Well, I have a few people I need to talk to. I’d better get going,” he says.

  “Who?”

  “It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be back a little later, okay?” His hand slides down my arm and he squeezes my hand as he stands to leave.

  “Charlie?” I call after him. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t even sweat it. I’ll see you soon.”

  Keeping my word, I get out of bed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The reflection staring back at me in the mirror isn’t a pretty sight.

  With no plans to leave this room, ever, I take my time getting dressed and ready. After finally emerging from the bathroom, I discover Hannah waiting in her recliner. Charlie is sitting in mine, and they’re wearing identical “bad news” faces. Just what I need.

  I sit down on the couch; my brief respite from the worries of death is over. “What’s with you two?”

  “We went to see Crosby,” Hannah says. “He asked us to meet him in Kay’s office.”

  My eyes narrow to slits. “Why?”

  “Crosby feels pretty bad about what happened. So … ” She looks at Charlie, stalling.

  “Come on, you guys. I can’t handle any more of this ‘tiptoe around Dez because she’s a basket case’ crap.”

  “It’s no biggie, Dez,” Charlie says. “Crosby wants to see you. Alone.”

  “Why, so he can lecture me some more? Didn’t get enough yelling in?” The sting of humiliation is still fresh and painful. Whether or not I deserved his wrath, Crosby hurt me more than I can say.

  “It’s not like that,” Hannah says. “He’s worried about you.”

  “Well, he sure has a funny way of showing his concern.”

  “He wants to make things right,” Charlie says.

  “How can you be on his side?” My head is beginning to throb from the latest round of jitters. The muscles in my neck begin to twitch, making my head jerk to the side.

  “Are you okay?” Hannah asks.

  My willpower isn’t enough to stop the tremors in my uncooperative extremities, which ignore my command to be still. “It’s just the side effects of skipping DSR.”

  “You skipped?” she asks. “For how long?”

  “Wh-what day is it?” My teeth chatter, making speech nearly impossible.

  “It’s Friday,” Charlie says.

  “H-haven’t done D-SR s-since Tuesday, I th-think.”

  Hannah brings me a granola bar from the nightstand by her bed. “Eat this. Maybe it’ll help.”

  The nausea and jitters dissipate with the very first bite. “Thanks, Hannah.”

  “No problem. Helping you is what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s what I should have done from the start.”

  I give her arm an appreciative squeeze as I tell Charlie, “You never did answer my question.” He doesn’t reply, so I repeat it. “Why are you siding with Crosby after what he did to you?”

  He considers my question. “I got knocked down to level two, but it wasn’t personal. That’s the thing, and I’ve only just realized it. It’s never personal.”

  “They really do have our best interests at the heart of everything they do,” Hannah says. “You have a lot to deal with, and Crosby’s a great resource. You need to work out your differences with him.”

  The mention of Crosby sends my precarious mood spiraling. “I’m not some pet project of his. Some experiment.”

  “Everyone is just worried, most of all Crosby. You’ve had a rough few days. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with.” Hannah puts a consoling hand on my shoulder, and it’s all I can do not to shrug it off.

  “I was nothing like that when I was alive. I didn’t need pity—I didn’t need any of this.”

  “Will you please talk to Crosby?” Charlie says. “You both need it.”

  “Fine. I don’t care.”

  The daylight fades and the city lights come up, twinkling and dancing in the darkness. The beautiful skyline leaves me longing to visit the city again despite Crosby’s furious warning. Atman City tugs at my soul, as though it’s asking me to come back. My heart is heavy with the knowledge that I never will.

  The door opens and Hannah calls out, “Hey, Dez, you decent?”

  “Hardly,” I reply. “But I am dressed, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  The door shuts again, then nothing. “Hannah?”

  “No, it’s me, kiddo.”

  Crosby. Great. I tense up at the sound of his voice and close my eyes. My lower lip trembles at the memory of our last meeting, which just makes me angry.

  He sits down at the opposite end of my perch on the window seat. “How are you feeling?”

  “Oh, fabulous. Couldn’t be better, thanks.”

  “I was right, you know. I said what I said, how I said it, because I care about you.”

  “Well, if that’s how you treat your friends, I’d sure hate to be your enemy.” My voice shakes just enough to betray me.

  He ignores my jab. “I came back here in 1987. It was my first year volunteering at SGA, and I was all gung-ho to make a difference. One of the first people to come through my door was Maggie Preston.”

  As angry as I am, I remain quiet. There’s a distance in his eyes, but they also reflect a deep intensity that doesn’t invite interruption.

  “She was fourteen years old and had drowned at the beach, ten feet from shore. She was a mess, shaking like a leaf, begging me to take her home to her parents. I was brand new, but I did everything I could to help her. I stayed by her side for the days on end when she couldn’t get out of bed. I held her hand through her first meeting with Kay. She was like a fragile little bird.

  “I was so proud of her when she started to get her feet under her. She made friends and didn’t need me as much. What I didn’t know was she’d been sneaking into the city at night, skipping out on DSR.”

  He stops speaking and puts his palm against the w
indow. It’s as though he’s trying to stop something, but his sorrowful tone suggests it’s too late.

  “When I found out, I had a talk with her. I gave her a gentle reminder of the rules. She smiled her sweet smile at me and promised to stay away. I trusted her. About a week and a half later, her roommate came to me, asking if I’d seen her. Said she hadn’t seen Maggie in over a week. We found her four days later.” Crosby’s voice cracks.

  I don’t want to hear the rest of the story, but I know he’s going to tell me.

  “Boyd Martinson, a convicted child molester and serial rapist, had been living in the city for fifty years. He’d made a lot of progress. His monitoring was reduced, and everyone thought he was well on his way to becoming a success story. But he was just good at hiding his darkness.” Crosby pulls his gaze away from the window and looks at me.

  “Crosby, no,” I whisper.

  His full attention snaps back to the present, his distant gaze gone. “You are going to listen to every word,” he barks. “You hear me?”

  I simply nod.

  “He sneaked out one night, and who did he come across? A pretty, sweet young thing who didn’t stand a chance. He grabbed her and took her to a tucked away corner of the city, where he kept her for twelve days. With his day pass, he’d go to his lair, raping and beating that poor girl over and over. But as you know, you can’t die twice, so she survived each vicious blow and every hideous moment.” Crosby’s eyes reflect anger and sadness as they lock with mine. “I will never let that happen again. Do you understand me?”

  “Crosby, I … I’m … ” I have no words, so I simply walk over to him and sit down as close as I dare.

  “Just know there’s a reason why I tell you what I do. I’m not trying to be mean, but if mean is what it takes to get you to listen, then mean it is.”

  “Truce?”

  “Truce.” He squeezes my shoulder.

  “I promise, okay?” I look out the window. “I won’t go back.”

  He heaves a big sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, Crosby. I—”

  He waves off my apology. “Let’s put it behind us, okay?”