Death & Co.

by D. J. McCune

  She poked him in the ribs. ‘Oi, space cadet. Hand me the method sheet, will you?’

  He watched her reading. Melissa always seemed to give whatever she was doing her total concentration. He liked that. Sometimes his thoughts ran madly around his head – like right now, for example. He should have been thinking about the work but instead he was noticing that Melissa had cut her hair shorter. It made her look different. She looked … good.

  Once their experiment was started all they could do was sit and wait. Melissa hopped onto her stool. ‘So, what bus do you get?’ When Adam told her she raised her eyebrows. ‘Nice area round there.’

  Adam shrugged. ‘I guess so. What about you?’

  The bus number didn’t mean anything to him but the name did. ‘The 704. To Lime Hill.’

  Adam looked away. ‘Oh right.’ He hesitated. ‘Isn’t that where –’

  She sighed and interrupted, ‘Yes, where the riots were. But that was years ago. It’s a lot better now.’

  Adam felt embarrassed, without knowing why. ‘I’ve never been round there.’

  ‘You should come down sometime. There are some really cool vintage shops there now, and an art gallery. Little cafes. It’s getting nice.’ Her face changed as she spoke, brightening, eyes shining. She used her hands a lot when she was talking. She looked different.

  Adam wished he could get that excited about where he lived. ‘There’s nothing much where I live. Just houses.’

  Melissa gave him an ironic look. ‘Really big houses.’

  Adam paused. He’d never really thought about it before. ‘I have a big family. My mum and dad, two brothers, one sister. And my Auntie Jo. And two really massive dogs.’

  She smiled. ‘I always wished I had a big family. You’re lucky.’

  Adam snorted. ‘You think?’

  Her smile wavered. ‘Yeah. I only have my mum. But my aunt lives nearby so that’s not too bad.’ She swore suddenly and leaped up. The water in their beaker was boiling and now it was streaming down the outside. On instinct Adam lunged for the beaker, forgetting the heat.

  ‘No!’ Melissa seized his hand. Her fingers were cool but a wave of something like fire sped up Adam’s arm. For a second he thought he was touching the hot glass but a second later Melissa let go and the electric feeling faded a little.

  Adam stared at his fingers. They were tingling. He swallowed hard and looked at Melissa. ‘Thanks. I forgot it was hot.’

  She shrugged. With the Bunsen burner turned down they sat again but somehow Adam felt on edge. What was wrong with him today? Melissa was chatting about their experiment and he nodded at intervals – but he couldn’t stop looking at his fingers. The tingling was gone but the memory of it was still there, a ghost sensation.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Melissa was staring at him.

  He realised his mouth was hanging open stupidly and snapped it closed. ‘Yeah, of course.’

  ‘You looked a bit like those guys.’ Melissa grinned and nodded at the shelves on the wall beside them. They were lined with glass jars, full of murky formaldehyde. The ghostly remains of fish, reptiles and small animals stared out wide-eyed, mouths gaping.

  Adam shuddered. ‘Those jars are so creepy.’

  Melissa tilted her head to one side and looked at them. ‘I don’t think they’re creepy. They’re just … sad.’

  ‘They’re dead. They don’t care.’

  Melissa’s face was thoughtful. ‘But they were alive. They had a little life and one day someone came along and killed them and stuck them in a jar.’

  Adam shrugged. ‘That’s what happens. Everything dies.’

  ‘But if they had known …’ Melissa tailed off. ‘If they had known they were going to die they would have done something different. If that mouse had just run a different direction maybe it wouldn’t be in that jar right now. It just had to do one thing differently and it wouldn’t be there.’ She shook her head and shivered. ‘It’s freaky, you know?’

  ‘Yeah, well, they wouldn’t know what to do differently. Nobody knows when they’re going to die so –’ he began – then froze. The fine hairs on the back of his neck lifted. Time seemed to stand still. He stared at the jars, heart thudding. Of course the animals inside didn’t know they were going to die. People were a lot smarter than animals and even they didn’t know when they were going to die. But he knew.

  He closed his eyes, feeling dizzy at the simplicity and brilliance of the idea. He didn’t want to be a Luman but Nathanial needed all his sons to assist him. But if some of those who should have died survived … Just maybe Nathanial wouldn’t need him. Adam would be able to stay on at school.

  All I have to do is save them, he thought. If fewer people die suddenly then no one will need me to be a Luman! I can be a doctor and see the whole world. Go anywhere I want! His head swam a little. The world had suddenly expanded into something full of possibilities. He could have his own life, free of swooping and guiding and the Hinterland. Nobody would be disappointed in him. He wouldn’t have to face nosebleeds or throwing up. He would be free!

  A delicate cough interrupted his earth-shattering revelation. Melissa was staring at him, hands on her hips, head cocked to one side. Clearly she thought he had lost his marbles. ‘I hate to interrupt your little meditation there, Buddha, but we have about two minutes to pack everything up.’

  He nodded without speaking. She moved so that the window was behind her. Chilly winter sunlight illuminated her. She was a genius, an angel, a goddess. She had given him a plan, a way out. He stared at her silhouette, mesmerised.

  She stepped back until he could see her face again and smiled. His stomach turned to warm water. She leaned in towards him and her lips parted slightly. She was saying something and probably it was something genius. He held his breath.

  Melissa arched her eyebrows. ‘You know, sometimes you seem OK. And then other times … you’re really weird.’ She shook her head and walked away.

  Adam stared at her retreating back. ‘You have no idea,’ he muttered.

  For once he couldn’t wait to get home. The house was silent – or almost silent. Loud snores were emanating from the den and when he peered round the door Auntie Jo was sprawled on the sofa, head back, mouth hanging open. Her hip flask was lying on the dark wooden floor beside her. After a quick peek he found all the other rooms empty. Elise and Chloe had probably gone shopping and Nathanial and Adam’s brothers were obviously on a call-out.

  The Fates were on his side. There would never be a better time. His plan was fluttering round inside his head, fragile, like moth wings beating against a windowpane. He would be crossing a line. Better not to get too excited until he checked a few things out. Stealthily he crept along the hall, hesitating outside Nathanial’s study, one hand resting on the door handle. None of them were allowed into the study unless Nathanial was there. The rule was so sacrosanct that Nathanial had never even considered putting a lock on the door – he simply trusted that he would be obeyed. If Adam got caught in here Nathanial would strangle him … Wincing as the door creaked, he took a deep breath, and slipped inside.

  The room was cool and dim. The day had turned cold and grey and without the afternoon sunlight the study looked less inviting than usual. The bookcases seemed to tower over him threateningly, almost as if they knew what he was up to.

  Adam didn’t give himself time to think about what he was doing but walked along the row of books until he saw his prize. The Book of the Unknown Roads nestled at the far end of the room, the leather cover worn smooth in places. As he slid the huge tome from the shelf, his hands tingled, as if a tiny electric charge had passed through them. He sat down on the floor cross-legged, touched his keystone to the cover and eased the book open.

  There was no contents page or index but Adam was relying on his Mortson blood and keystone to guide him. He didn’t really understand how the book worked but just as Lumen could move between the physical world and the Hinterland, so the writing in the book could appear and disappear, de
pending on what the Luman reading it needed. He could sit for hours and never get any closer to what he was looking for. Only the blood bond, his keystone or years of training could teach a Luman how to navigate the book and use its secrets.

  Luckily the book had spent more time in the hands of the Mortsons than any other family and it responded like a well-trained dog, knowing what he was seeking better than he did himself. Even as he sat, the leather cover resting in his lap, the pages rippled and lifted of their own accord until the book lay open around the middle.

  The writing here was a spidery scrawl, the ink faded to a dark brown. It looked disconcertingly like old blood. Adam squinted at the bottom of the page. Sure enough, the emblem was old but definitely the Mortson seal, a flaming torch in a black circle. One of his ancestors had written these pages. He breathed out, relieved. Without the blood bond he might have spent hours searching for answers with no success.

  This section was called simply, On the Fate of Men. He bent his head closer to the page, trying to make sense of the spiky letters.

  All men have a season, a time ordained to them by the Fates and powers above. At a time decreed they shall find themselves at the borderland between worlds, where Lumen will guide them onto the Unknown Roads.

  That time shall be chosen by no man. It is not the place of the Luman to be Saviour or Executioner. Neither may any Luman play Judge. The Curators will uphold the law in these matters.

  Adam shivered at the mention of the Curators. As High Luman Nathanial was in charge of all the other Lumen in his Kingdom – but even High Lumen were only a link in the chain. The Curators were former Lumen who governed all the Lumen across the globe. Lumen were generally a civilised bunch. They tended to avoid violence so the Curators’ roles were mainly honorary – but occasionally they would have to take action against a rogue or incompetent Luman.

  Adam gulped. He was thinking about becoming both. He was already an incompetent Luman but the book was quite clear – a Luman didn’t have the authority to save a soul from death any more than they had the authority to condemn a soul. He’d be breaking Luman law if he interfered with the Fates and saved any human soul who should have died.

  He chewed his lip, feeling a hard knot of defiance twisting in his stomach, reluctant to give up his master plan. After all, maybe he had been given this idea by the Fates. No one else had ever done it – at least no one he knew of. Maybe the Fates had chosen him to do this. All right, it was pretty unlikely but still …

  He froze, hearing a noise. It sounded like the distant thud of a door. Someone was home. He muttered a curse, feeling only slight relief when he heard Chloe laughing and chattering. Nathanial wasn’t home yet but that didn’t mean Elise wouldn’t come in, finding out what time they should have dinner. He needed to get out of there.

  As he closed the book it seemed to shudder in his hands. He stuffed it back into its place on the bookcase, full of guilt. What he was planning to do … If he got caught he was going to be in so much trouble. More trouble than he could even imagine. His father might be the High Luman but it wouldn’t be enough to save him. The Curators’ Concilium would be called to session. He might be an embarrassment to his family now but if he went through with this and got caught he would drag the Mortsons into total disgrace.

  He peered round the edge of the doorway. The hall was still empty. Adam took his chance and darted upstairs to his bedroom. Lying on his bed, head pillowed in his hands, his mind raced – but he couldn’t shake the certainty that he was supposed to do this. He lay daydreaming, imagining himself still at school in sixth form. He was taller and better looking, smart in the special sixth form blazer and tie. He was sitting in the study area with his friends, drinking tea and laughing. Melissa came over and slid into the seat beside him, one cool hand slipping into his, sending those little prickles up his arm and down through his body …

  There was a discreet knock at the door and Elise appeared. ‘Your father is just home. Dinner in thirty minutes.’

  Adam muttered his thanks and lay on, staring at the ceiling. He imagined his life unrolling before him, an unending path of swooping and souls and the Hinterland. He imagined marrying someone like his mother and having children who would become Lumen and the long days and nights dealing with death after death after death. His chest felt tight, like a heavy stone was lying on top of him. His whole life would be death, until the moment his own Light appeared and he stepped wearily onto the Unknown Roads.

  He hopped upright and hurried to the mirror by the door, mind turning over. He saw himself in a white coat, striding round a hospital, shaking hands. ‘Doctor Adam Mortson, how do you do?’ He imagined a house – an ordinary house – full of ordinary children doing ordinary things like homework and playing computer games. He would have a dog – a normal dog – not one who could step into the Hinterland and nudge souls towards the Light waiting for them.

  Adam stared at his reflection. ‘My name is Adam Mortson,’ he whispered. ‘And I’m going to live before I die.’

  Chapter 5

  Adam sat on the edge of his bed and waited, feet tapping on the floor. He had put on a uniform of sorts – black jeans, black boots, black hoodie and a black beanie. Now he felt ridiculous, like a kid wearing his underpants over his trousers and pretending to be a superhero. To save someone he would have to change something in the physical world. If the next death scene was anywhere light and bright he was going to stand out like a sore thumb.

  It had taken him three days to find the courage to put his plan into action. Two long days of weighing up the pros and cons. Then, just the night before, he’d been forced to go on a call-out after a landslide in an Italian town. He’d managed two souls before he threw up four times. Even Aron and Luc had been stunned into silence, too flabbergasted to dish out their usual abuse. When he got home Nathanial had made a hearty attempt to encourage him but his mother had simply stared at him, as if wondering whether he was some kind of changeling. That look had somehow decided things for him. They all knew he shouldn’t be a Luman. Now he was going to do something about it.

  His stomach twitched and he leaped up. Was this it? The doom sense? Or just one sausage too many at dinner? He paced around the room, palms sweaty, and stopped in front of the mirror. He looked pale in the black hat. He suddenly imagined Melissa looking at him and struggled to make her expression admiring … but even in his daydream her mouth was hanging open and her eyebrows were in mid-air. He scowled. She was the one who had started all this.

  He’d been thinking about Melissa a lot in the last few days. He was supposed to have seen her earlier that day but she had been missing from registration and missing from biology. He’d struggled through the experiment on his own, thoughts wandering, until Mrs Buzzard told him off and made him pack up early. It wasn’t his fault he’d set the bench on fire …

  His guts lurched and rolled and now there was no doubt – this was a premonition. Somebody somewhere was about to die unexpectedly. Maybe even violently. Sweat beaded on his forehead and another wave of nausea gripped him. He was so used to blocking the premonitions out that he’d forgotten how awful they felt. No point prolonging the agony. He took a last look at his reflection, surprised at how calm he looked. He could do this. It wasn’t a typical Friday night – but then he didn’t exactly come from a long line of normal people.

  Time to go. He crept downstairs into the night. In the garden, hidden behind the shed, he closed his eyes, clutched his keystone and swooped, letting the feeling in his stomach lead him as everything else fell away.

  Adam’s first thought was that swooping was much harder on his own. There was one awful moment when he almost lost the doom sense and could have ended up anywhere. He fought to tune into his body and a second later his feet hit the ground, sending him stumbling face first into a hedge. It would have really hurt if he had been landing in the physical world.

  Even here in the Hinterland he blinked, wondering if he had gone blind. Blood was pouring from his nose a
nd he cursed, realising that as usual he didn’t have a tissue. This time there was no Nathanial to come to the rescue. He pinched it with the sleeve of his hoodie, hoping he would be able to get home. ‘Focus, Einstein,’ he muttered. He was hardly superhero material but that didn’t mean he had to be Blunderboy. Somebody somewhere very nearby was about to die unless he got his act together.

  In the Hinterland he was detached from the physical world, which had its advantages. He was at the bottom of a hill, standing in a narrow road, a high hedge on one side and black fields on the other. Rain lashed down around him but he couldn’t feel it. He could feel a little of the night breeze – somehow a little of it always managed to cross over from one world to the other. His eyes were starting to adjust in the darkness. On the horizon there was a dim orange glow but there were no street lights here. Ahead of him the road stretched away into the distance, rising and falling in dips and humps, but behind him it curved sharply, disappearing behind the hedges.

  His doom sense twitched again, stronger now, and another wave of nausea swept through him. The death would be happening soon. If he messed up and someone died his family would be here within minutes. He was going to have some explaining to do. He imagined Aron’s meaty arm around his neck and Nathanial’s tight, disappointed face …

  It spurred Adam into action. He jogged along the road, searching for clues. Maybe someone was lying here unconscious in the dark. They might have been hit by a car or charged by a bull or dropped there by aliens … He stopped, frustrated. It all sounded so weak and unconvincing. There was no one here and he could feel himself sweating, even in the coolness of the Hinterland. Somebody was going to die. Where the hell were they?

  He turned and faced the bend behind him and his doom sense stabbed him sharply in the guts. He took a few cautious steps in that direction – and froze. Adam closed his eyes and retched because quite suddenly he knew what was going to happen. For just a second a brief vision blazed behind his eyelids – two cars on the same side of the road in the driving rain, the collision and the red car spinning off the road and bursting into flames. He could hear screaming. His eyes popped open – and saw only the darkness of a country lane at night.