Life, A.D.

by Michelle E. Reed

  Dust falls from the rickety steps as we descend into the dark, the stairs groaning under our weight. My boldness has been left behind with the light. Delphine’s raspy breathing only adds to my feeling of impending doom, and I begin to question my judgment. I focus on what brought me here. I have to help my mom, and this is my only chance.

  We travel down a narrow, earthen tunnel, and I feel claustrophobic as I sense a gradual slope leading us deeper into the ground. As my eyes begin to adjust to the dim light, I can make out the rough walls and low ceiling, all of which appear to have been dug out by hand. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I realize how far I am from safety. A voice in my head urges me to turn and run, but I push back my fear and press ahead, determined to see this through.

  Delphine stays a few paces ahead, humming a tune quietly. She glances over her shoulder at me, then turns back around and begins to sing a hymn.

  Whilst I draw this fleeting breath,

  When my eye-strings break in death,

  When I soar through tracts unknown,

  See Thee on thy Judgment-Throne,

  Rock of ages, cleft for me,

  Let me hide myself in Thee.

  The tunnel takes a sharp turn to the left and comes to an abrupt end. We stand before a heavy wooden door with a barred window that’s dusty, I assume, from disuse. Delphine retrieves an iron key from a hidden pocket in her dress and unlocks the door.

  “Why was it locked?” I ask.

  “We can’t let just anyone get in here, now, can we? Such power must be guarded. Must be careful. We must keep it safe. This is our job, see? To protect. To help.”

  “But why do you need a lock? Isn’t that what Louis is for?”

  “So many questions, child. Don’t you want to help your sweet mama?” She swings the door outward and gestures for me to go through first. “The light is on the wall. Just flip the switch. Then you can see her. You can talk. You can help.”

  I step through the doorway and hit the switch on the wall, illuminating the room with bright, sterile light.

  The empty room.

  With chains on the wall.

  Delphine screeches in delight, and I spin around just in time to see the door begin to swing shut. With every bit of strength I have, I throw myself against the door, digging my feet into the hard-packed dirt floor. I manage to block the doorway with my left leg so she can’t shut me in. I drive my shoulder into the door; desperation and adrenaline fuel my strength. Delphine grunts as she pushes back.

  Little by little, I force the door open until finally I push my way out. Delphine blocks my path, snarling like a wild animal. My fists fly, catching her off guard with a hook to the jaw. She hits the floor, temporarily stunned by the blow, and I waste no time, taking off down the tunnel back toward the dome with all I have, thankful for my years of training as a sprinter. She’ll never catch me, especially not in those Victorian boots of hers.

  “Charlie, Hannah, run!” I scream, picking up the pace as I close in on the stairs, knowing they’ll have their hands full with the hulking menace, Louis.

  My foot hits the first stair and I can hear commotion above: scuffling of feet, a bellowing roar, and a crash.

  Hannah stands at the top, teakettle in hand, standing over Louis. He’s lying next to his overturned chair, clawing at his face and screaming. Charlie grabs her hand and the kettle hits the floor with a clang.

  “Let’s go,” I say, the urgency making my voice shrill.

  “Wait!” Charlie says. He struggles to lift the heavy trapdoor. Hannah and I rush to help him, and it closes with a crash. “That ought to slow her down.”

  We hear her banging on the door as we flee.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  None of us return to DSR, too jolted with adrenaline and thoughts of what we escaped to even consider it. We huddle around a table in a corner of the library until first light, sitting in silence, only occasionally recalling moments of our ordeal with frightening clarity. I’m filled with dread when I think of my mom.

  I couldn’t get to a pod. Is it too late? Did she take the pills?

  With a real taste of the dangerous city Crosby warned me about, my worries are doubled. Were it not for quick thinking and quick reflexes, who knows what might have happened to us at the hands of that madwoman? What would she and Louis have done to Charlie and Hannah? To me?

  As the scary night replays in my head, I’m hit with a wave of fresh confusion. “I don’t get it. I saw you jump out the window the first time we met, Charlie. You didn’t get a scratch.”

  He nods. “Yeah, like I told you, once you figure out the secret, you can’t get hurt anymore.”

  “And that’s what I don’t get. I hit Delphine and she went down like a ton of bricks. Hannah dumped boiling water on Louis, and he screamed like he was on fire. Judging by their clothes, they must’ve been here well over a hundred years. How can they still feel pain?”

  “Well,” Charlie says slowly, “you really have to work at it to get over the pain and realize you can’t be hurt. Not a lot of people are willing to jump off tall buildings repeatedly.”

  “So they just never figured it out?” Hannah asks.

  “I guess not,” Charlie says. “We don’t need food, either, but they still eat. Or drink tea, at least.”

  I shudder at the possibility of an invincible Delphine and Louis. “Lucky for us they haven’t figured it out.”

  As the sky brightens, Hannah and I return to our room, needing showers and clean clothes. We promise to meet up with Charlie later.

  “I’m so sorry, Charlie,” I say as we leave.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. Hannah and I would have done the same thing in your shoes.”

  Hannah nods in agreement. “Besides, if we hadn’t gone with … I mean, think of how much worse it would have been if you’d been alone.”

  “I never would have gotten out without you.”

  “I’m just sorry we couldn’t … ” Charlie shakes his head, not wanting to say what we’re all thinking.

  I couldn’t reach her. I couldn’t help.

  And now I have a new fear: my appointment this morning.

  Outside the SGA office, I’m stalling, too terrified to face Crosby. What will he do to me? I can’t imagine the fury he’ll unleash this time. My chest feels like it’s in a vise, and I think I just might pass out. I finally work up the nerve to walk into the office.

  Crosby greets me with a big smile, looking me up and down. “Purple is good on you.”

  He doesn’t know? This might actually be worse, because now I have to try and hide something from him.

  He narrows his eyes. “What’s with you today?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Do I have to toss you over my shoulder again?”

  “No.” Apprehension keeps me from saying anything else.

  He folds his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”

  “I already told you, nothing.”

  He heads to the door. “Follow me.”

  Not this again. “We’re going to be late for our meeting,” I say, trying to change the subject on our way out into the hallway.

  “It’s a five-minute walk and we have almost an hour. Don’t want to fess up? Don’t show up so early.” He motions to a nearby bench. “Take a seat.”

  “It’s nothing, so just let it go, okay?”

  “You know I don’t like girls who keep secrets from me. Now sit.”

  “Can’t we just—”

  “No. Spill it.”

  “Can we at least go somewhere else?” My throat is closing up around the words. I check the hallway, afraid someone will see us. But then again, at least they’d be witnesses.

  “What is going on?”

  My whole body shakes. “You’re going to kill me. I … ”

  “You know perfectly well you can’t die twice, and I wouldn’t kill you even if I could.” He smiles and joins me on the bench.

  “Hold that thought.” I take a de
ep breath. “I had a good reason, I swear, Crosby. I would never, I mean—”

  “Just tell me.”

  “I went back to the city last night.” I cringe, waiting for the Crosbomb to detonate.

  He doesn’t disappoint. “You what?” he bellows.

  I fear I might be burned to a crisp, because I’m pretty sure he’s breathing fire.

  He storms down the hallway and taps his ear. “Kay?” His voice is remarkably calm. “I’m going to need to push back our appointment a bit. Something’s come up. Yes, nine-thirty should be fine. See you then.”

  He thunders back down the empty corridor to me. “Explain. Now.”

  “Crosby, it’s my mom.”

  He sits with his head against the wall and listens as I retell the story, leaving nothing out. As much as I want to protect Hannah and Charlie, I’m afraid he’ll find out about their part in it on his own, and they’ll be in even more trouble. Perhaps they’ll be spared his wrath if for no other reason than the fact that had they not been there, I would be stuck in a dungeon right now. “I had to, Crosby,” I whisper. “I had to try and stop her, and Nero’s was the only way.”

  Crosby stares at me for a long minute before saying anything. “You should have gone to Franklin.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  He heads back toward his office. “Come on.”

  I don’t dare disobey.

  Back at his desk, he sets to work at his computer. “What’s your mom’s full name?”

  “Mary Diane Donnelly.” Tears spring up when I realize what he’s doing. “Maiden name is Kingman.”

  He lets out a relieved sigh. “Nope, not in here. She hasn’t been through, not flagged and not moved on. No record.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “One hundred percent.”

  I rest my hands on his desk and lean forward, breathless with relief. “At least she hasn’t done it yet.”

  “Your mom is going to be okay, Dez. She’s struggling right now, but she and your dad are going to get through this. They’re strong.”

  “So you’re not mad?”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m happy, but I’m going to let it slide. Just don’t do it again. Ever.”

  “Okay,” I agree, ashamed and exhausted. “Am I being punished?” I finally ask.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “For being a bad person in life? Bad karma or something? It’s—this past week has been so awful. I feel like I’m being penalized, and I’m not sure what I did wrong.”

  “There are consequences for poor choices in the afterlife just as there are in life, but you are not being punished. Being dead is hard work.”

  “I can see why you don’t do this often—take on basket cases like me. I’m not sure I’d put up with me.”

  “What can I say? I’m a saint.” He smiles. “You’re going to be okay, kiddo. We’ll make sure of that.”

  “Crosby … ” I collapse into the chair before his desk. “I know we didn’t have the best start, but thanks.” I swallow back my pride. “For everything.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  “For what? I’ve been nothing but a complete mess for almost a week now. And I’m doing just about everything wrong.”

  “You’ve stood up for yourself and you’ve opened up to me. From the sounds of it, you’ve opened up to Hannah and Charlie, too. It’s a lot for your first week.”

  “Yeah.” I look down, embarrassed. “I’m not used to needing so much help.”

  “Welcome to Atman. It’s not a place you can get through by yourself.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Nobody bothered to tell me Franklin would be joining us in Kay’s office. Crosby and I sit elbow to elbow before Kay’s desk, and Franklin is in an adjacent chair, facing us. The message on the granite plaque on Kay’s desk has changed since our first meeting. Today’s offering is: Everything should be as simple as it can be, but not simpler.

  It’s a good thing there are no projectiles within my reach.

  Kay shuffles a small stack of paperwork on her desk and begins. “I’ve asked Franklin to join us this morning because we have a dormitory-related issue to discuss.”

  “I’m not here to make things worse for you, Dez,” Franklin says, “but I do have some follow-up information you need to hear.”

  I lean back in my chair, exhausted. “I don’t know how much worse things can get, so, whatever. It’s fine.”

  Kay writes something in her notebook before addressing me. “It’s my understanding there was a rather ugly incident that occurred between you and Herc.”

  “Several, actually,” I say.

  Franklin takes a file folder from the top of a stack on Kay’s desk. “Remember when you asked me how Herc knew the details of your death?”

  I nod and swallow back fresh anger.

  Franklin flips the folder open and reads for a moment before continuing. “Through a reliable source, we have come to learn that Herc has been sneaking out during DSR, and we believe he has gained unauthorized access to confidential files.”

  Kay taps the file cabinet next to her desk. “My case files, to be more specific. We believe that is the reason he knew such intimate details of your last moments. I am sorry he confronted you in such a way, especially before you were ready to process the details yourself.”

  Franklin frowns. “What isn’t clear is how he got the key codes to gain entry to Kay’s office, but, rest assured, we intend to find out.”

  My blood boils, and the words slip out before I can stop myself. “Abbey’s spreading herself pretty thin trying to keep tabs on both me and Herc at once, huh?”

  “Dez,” Crosby warns.

  “It’s all right, Crosby,” Kay says. “Dez, we do occasionally utilize the services of residents to help monitor those who are at risk.”

  It feels like I’m peeling back layer upon layer of the world’s biggest onion. “I had no idea there was so much clandestine activity around here.”

  “It wouldn’t be necessary if we didn’t have residents sneaking off at all hours,” Franklin says flatly.

  Touché. “But Abbey? Of all the people you could pick … ”

  Franklin closes the file he’s been holding and drops it on Kay’s desk. “You’ll be happy to know she’s been relieved of her duties.”

  “Happy is not a word I would use to describe myself in any capacity here.”

  Franklin stands. “It’ll get better, Dez. See you back on the floor.” He leaves without further discussion, discarding my concerns at the door.

  Kay scrawls more notes at furious pace. “Okay,” she says. “Why don’t we move on to you two. As a matter of policy, sessions are private. But, on occasion, we find it beneficial to include another staff member in at least one meeting in order to explore ways they can participate in and supplement your treatment plan. Are you comfortable with Crosby joining us this morning?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Kay nods. “You certainly do.”

  “It’s fine, I guess.”

  “Good.” Kay doesn’t miss a beat, breezing on to the next subject so fast it all but gives me whiplash. “You have experienced quite a lot in your short time here, and in order to move forward, I believe we need to process the major events and transgressions since our last meeting.”

  Crosby straightens in his chair, and tells me, “We feel it’s best for you and I to process what’s happened together, so that we can move forward in the most effective way.”

  “Fine,” I concede, “but you have to answer a question first, Kay.”

  “So long as it is appropriate,” she says, “I will do my best to answer. Deal?”

  “Appropriate or not, I’m not doing anything else until you tell me who that woman I see in DSR is. I’m sick of the runaround, and if you’ve been messing with my head, dead or not, I think I have a right to know.”

  A silent conversation passes between Kay and Crosby as they exchange a long look.
r />   My anger ratchets up again. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about. You expect us to be fully open and honest, but you have all these secrets.”

  Crosby puts his hand on my arm. “Calm down.”

  “No! I’m sick of everyone telling me that.”

  Kay holds up a hand, cutting my rant short. “Fair enough. If you feel you are truly prepared for the answer, I believe it is time to give it to you.”

  I sit back, arms crossed, and wait for her to continue.

  “During your placement with RPS, a procedure was performed in which you were linked to a senior member of our staff who is there to assist you as you process these life reflections. Just as with RPS placements, some residents require additional assistance in coping with the myriad emotions DSR brings up.”

  “Assistance? Is that what she’s there for? Because it seems like propaganda and lectures to me. How can you just let someone in my head like that? Don’t I have any rights?”

  Crosby takes a shot at calming me down. “Sweetie, everything we do here—”

  “Is in my best interest. Yeah, I’ve heard that one.”

  Kay tucks a strand of her stick-straight hair behind her ear. “After your initial thirty-day evaluation period, we will reassess, and may determine you no longer need the link. So make the most of your time, Dez. Show us progress, follow the rules, and participate in the program. You’ll be flying solo for DSR in no time.” She straightens in her chair. “I’ve answered your questions, so now it’s your turn.”

  Here we go again.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  I’m sitting across a table from Charlie in our tower’s cafeteria, watching him wolf down another Frisbee-sized doughnut while I try to recuperate from the marathon infodump I just endured. Out of the blue, it hits me. My forgotten project. The thing Bobby can’t possibly know; the big thing that is enough to convince him. I hope.

  “Higgs boson!”

  Charlie wipes frosting from the corner of his mouth. “Higgs what?”

  “Bobby!”

  “Huh?”

  “The Large Hadron Collider. It was built to do the latest research in particle physics, right?”