Immortal Remains: A Tim Reaper Novel

by Sean Cummings

  “Oh yeah,” I said, pulling a cigarette out of a fresh package. I lit it and took a deep haul.

  “You shouldn’t smoke, Mister,” the girl said, almost breathless. “’Specially in a park cuz there’s signs all over the place.”

  My eyes panned over from the girl to the man whose was now slowly moving his left hand into the pocket of his blazer. “Your mom is right, kiddo,” I answered, as I dropped my cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out with the heel of my boot. “Where is she?”

  “What’s it to you?” the man asked, the shakiness in his voice disappearing.

  I folded my arms. “Well, you can’t be too careful these days, now can you? Especially in a huge park like the Common where any kid can wander away from a distracted parent. What’s your niece’s name?”

  The little girl opened her mouth to say something but the man behind her beat her to the punch. “It’s Danielle,” he said, as he stepped back from the swing set. It was almost like he knew what was going to happen next.

  The little girl’s face twisted itself into a knot. “My name isn’t Danielle, I told you that it was Erika!” she shouted.

  And that’s when he bolted in a cloud of shale dust.

  “Shit,” I muttered, as I took off after him.

  He raced over a small crest behind the swing set, quickly looking over his shoulder to see if he’d put any distance between the two of us – mad panic generally lights a fire under the asses of bad guys everywhere. I pushed myself harder to catch up, but he had a good twenty yards on me, so I said to hell with the foot race and pulled out my silenced Beretta. I lined up the sight with his right foot and pumped off a quick shot that hit him like a sledge hammer. He did a face plant into a trash can and in seconds I had him by the scruff of the neck.

  “You fucking shot me!” he roared, as he gripped his foot with both hands to stop the bleeding.

  “You’ll live … unfortunately,” I said, as I mashed my right fist into his face. His head snapped back and bounced off the grass as I stood up and placed my boot over his throat. “There’s nothing freaking worse than a kiddie-diddler.”

  He spat out a huge gob of blood. “Who the hell are you? You’re not a cop!”

  “Right … I forgot. Only cops are allowed to shoot perverts,” I grunted, glancing back at the crest near the swings. The little girl had lost interest in the swing set and was now jogging toward us. “Here’s how this is going to play out. You’re within hobbling distance of the hospital, so you’re going to check yourself into the emergency department and you’re going to get all confessional when they ask you how you wound up with a bullet hole in your leg.”

  “What the hell are you talking about!” he barked.

  I pressed my boot down on his neck good and hard this time, mashing his face into the dirt. “What I mean is that I don’t have time to sit around and wait for the cops to show up. They’ll probably want to take me in for questioning seeing as how I shot you and all – we have a weird ass justice system. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to fess up that you probably have a rap sheet a mile long and a court order saying that you’re banned from anything that even remotely looks like it has a swing set. If you don’t, I’m going to find you and finish this in a way that ensures you’ll be singing soprano for the rest of your miserable life – you got that?”

  He nodded so I took my boot off his neck. He slowly got back to his feet and hobbled across the empty field. The little girl caught up to me and said nothing as she watched the man limp away. I dropped to one knee and looked her over to see if there were any signs that she’d been harmed.

  It was at this point when I realized that my little angel murdering serial killer case was, shall we say, epic in scope.

  “A soul that might yet be saved, death-dealer,” the little girl said in a crisp, clear voice that was about as far from sounding like an eight-year-old as you can get. “Surely you must know that it is our role to mete out vengeance on this world when called on by Him.”

  “Shit – you’re a freaking angel!” I spat, suddenly realizing I’d stepped in on someone else’s supernatural turf.

  The little girl nodded once. “I am Jael, one of the twin cherubim on the Mercy Seat of the Ark of the Covenant.”

  “Right,” I said, eyeballing her closely. “And you just chanced upon a pedophile waiting to happen. That’s why you’re not in your true form.”

  She cocked an eyebrow and paced around me a few times. “I took this form because I was trying very hard to lead the man you just shot toward something resembling redemption. This does not concern you and you deliberately chose to interfere.”

  “How was I supposed to know you’re a freaking angel? This is an urban park that’s usually swarming with moms and tots and for some reason, this morning it’s completely deserted save for a scumbag that looks like he just got out of jail. He’s all alone with a cute little girl … what the hell was I supposed to think?”

  She gave me an indignant look and then simply shook her head. “I know what you’ve done, death-dealer. I’ve a mind to smite you where you stand, but for some absurd reason He believes there is still good in you.”

  “I’m glad somebody does,” I answered back. “So you arranged for the park to be empty – you set that guy up?”

  “I simply created an environment that favoured a heart-to-heart discussion with the man – none can see or hear us.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Does that include gunshots? Because, you know, I should probably high tail it out of here before the cops come.”

  Jael emitted a weary sigh. “What part of none can see or hear us do you not understand? You are crafted by the hand of the divine. It’s why you were able to see me in the first place.”

  This was my second ever encounter with an angel so seeing as how I’d been hired to find out who was killing them, it seemed like a good opportunity to pump Jael for some divine insight. I slipped a cigarette between my lips and sparked up my Zippo. “You up to speed on what’s happening, Jael?”

  She blinked. “I might be if you could be a bit more specific.”

  I decided to take the direct approach and not beat around the bush. “Someone is killing your people and the big guy’s rep here on earth hired me to find him.”

  “I’m aware of it,” she said, gesturing for me to follow. “But His work must continue.”

  I took a deep drag on my cigarette as I walked up beside her. “Yeah, save a few souls and stuff. I got that. Look, I’d like if you’d throw me a bone on this.”

  “What … and I have the answers you’re looking for?” she said, as she took a seat on a worn out park bench. I sat down beside her and wondered for half a second if this was some kind of test. “Are you sure you’re the same being responsible for what happened in 1918 because my sense from talking with you is that you’re dumb as a post. If I knew who the killer was I’d have done something about it!”

  “Then tell me about your physiology,” I shot back. “Give me something to work with. They found bodies of angels in Mexico City, New Orleans, Boston and New York. Their wings ripped from their bodies and they bled out. I didn’t realize you guys could actually bleed.”

  She regarded me with a look of hesitation and then said, “I take back what I said about you being dumb as a post because you know much already. Tell me, what do you intend to do if and when you find the person or thing responsible?”

  I inhaled deeply and waited a moment to gather my thoughts because I hadn’t really decided what my options were if I found the guy. I mean, if he were a human, I could simply end him with a nine millimeter slug, but if he was something different entirely, then it could mean a host of undesirable outcomes. Like him ending me, and that would suck big time. I was hoping the killer was human because if he wasn’t, I’d be in a world of hurt.

  “That will depend on whether the killer is human or not, I guess. I do have my limitations. He could destroy this body, for example.”

  “Or
if he were powerful enough, he could destroy the ancient essence that is you,” she said ominously.

  I shuddered for a moment and said, “You must have some information, though, right? I mean all you angels must keep in contact with one another.”

  She nodded. “Of course I do. I didn’t come to earth with the sole purpose of saving the pathetic creature that you shot. An army of us are scouring the world to find whoever did this.”

  “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  “Charming,” she said, shaking her head. “You chose now to blaspheme. Amazing.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Listen, if I’m going to find this guy-”

  She raised a hand to cut me off. “Unlikely. This is best left to His servants, and you, death-dealer, have fallen from grace.”

  I chewed my lip for a moment and then said, “If there’s an army of your people looking for the killer then I’m going to assume that we’re staring into the abyss. I had a vision that was filled with end of the world kinda crap.”

  “It’s not my place to say,” she said curtly. “But I’d like to know something.”

  “What?”

  She pulled her knees up to her chest and for half a second I forgot that I was talking with a Holy entity and not a little girl. “What do you believe you stand to gain should you find the killer? One good deed does not erase all of the terrible things you’ve done.”

  “I expect to get paid,” I said firmly. “I’m not looking for some kind of Holy reward or anything like that. And yeah, I’ve done a ton of crap that ain’t exactly going to get me in anyone’s good books, but I’m not one of the bad guys. Of course I’d like to make up for what I did, but I haven’t a clue how or where to begin. Half the time I don’t even know if I should bother.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “I never suggested that you were completely beyond all hope, death dealer. If anything, you’re just another lost soul.”

  “I’m not lost – I just wound up getting evicted by my own kind. Listen – can you do me a favour?”

  “That depends on what it is,” said Jael.

  “Give a homeless guy a bit of spiritual guidance,” I said earnestly. “How can I make up for the shit I’ve caused – all the lives I’ve taken? If I’m to live among human beings, how can I escape the truth of what I am?”

  She placed a tiny hand on my knee and offered what I could have sworn was a compassionate smile. “We can never replace what we’ve taken by doing good deeds or thinking honourable thoughts, death-dealer. In spite of your murky past, there is a reason you are here. There’s a reason for all of us and it’s entirely possible that you been called on by His will. If that’s the case, then what you have been given is a great gift. How you choose to use that gift will determine your worth in His eyes.”

  I nodded and kicked at the dirt with the heel of my boot. “Jael,” I said with more than a hint of dread in my voice. “I heard a voice yesterday – in my flat. It said, help me.”

  She threw me a surprised look. “And you believe that He was calling out to you? This is an unexpected development.”

  Okay, I didn’t see that coming.

  The tiny angel spun around to face me. She looked me square in the eyes and clenched her jaw tightly. Clearly she was struggling to tell me something and the last thing I wanted to do was to put my foot in my mouth and screw up any chance of learning what she knew about the killer.

  “I don’t like this,” she grumbled, as she lifted her chin up and gazed into the sky. “Am I to believe that a lowly death-dealer can somehow find that which your servants cannot?”

  A sharp gust of wind blew beneath my feet as Jael continued to look skyward, her eyes firmly fixed on someone or something I clearly couldn’t see. She exhaled heavily and then slowly lowered her gaze until she was staring into my eyes again.

  “My question remains unanswered,” said Jael, sounding slightly deflated. “It is therefore a matter of faith for both of us, it would seem.”

  “Then you’ll tell me what you know?” I asked.

  Jael slipped off the bench. Her eyes narrowed for a moment and she inhaled deeply. “The truth is that angels live alongside all of humanity. Taken human form by the power of His word and charged with giving hope to those who have lost their faith, we number in the thousands.”

  I snorted. “That ain’t exactly a revelation, Jael. There’s dozens of websites devoted to angel sightings. There’s also dozens of websites about UFO sightings, Bigfoot encounters and alien abduction. What I’m not getting is that if you guys are all powerful, then how come you haven’t found the guy who is killing you?”

  The angel’s jaw clenched tightly and she glared at me. “Do you think we’re not looking for the killer? Of course we are! But for all our Holy power, we simply can’t find him. What’s worse is that we haven’t a clue how the killer manages to find us.”

  I lifted a finger. “Wait a minute … I mean, demons might be helping him. Maybe they know how to find you and this is some big netherworld plot.”

  Jael shook her head. “There is no plot between the dark forces and the killer – of this we are certain.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, surprised by Jael’s categorical denial of Hell’s involvement.

  She pursed her lips tightly and gave be an uneasy look. “Because four of the fallen have been found murdered in the same manner as the four angels.”

  Jumping, dying Moses.

  I blinked hard as I tried to absorb the gravity of what Jael had just disclosed. Someone was killing angels and demons? But how? I wasn’t entirely surprised that angels live among humans because demons exist as well – hell, they have their own pub on Hollis Street for crying out loud. Yet for someone to take down both angels and demons, well, they’d have to be damned near omnipotent – that or the killer could be someone from within either side’s ranks. Was it possible that a divine being could present with the same kinds of psychological behaviors that are hallmarks of a serial killer? How could that be possible in the first place – they see all, they know all.

  “And the four murdered demons were found in Mexico City, New Orleans, Boston and New York, right?”

  She nodded. “Bingo. For every one of ours that is killed, so too is one of theirs.”

  “Could the killer be one of your people?” I asked.

  “Doubtful – we are agents of His grace and He most certainly would know about it – just as he knew that his most favoured would rise up against Him.”

  “So you guys don’t have a clue either, perfect.” I said flatly. “What in the hell have I been dragged into?”

  Jael placed a hand on my shoulder. “Or rather, why have you been dragged into it, death-dealer. It’s possible the answer lies in why your help has been sought to solve this mystery.”

  I snorted. “Four dead angels and four dead demons. A divine voice has called out to me. It might have been Him or it might have been another frigging angel about to get his wings clipped. That means there’s possibly a fifth dead demon – maybe even right here in the city somewhere.”

  And just like that, my cell phone rang. I slipped it against my ear to hear a frantic Carol Sparks on the other end of the line.

  “Reaper – I need you to come here quickly!” she nearly shouted into the phone. “I’m at Fairview Cove. There’s a shipping container and inside is … shit! Just get your ass over here because what I’m staring at doesn’t look … human.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said, pushing down a wave of panic that just bubbled up from the pit of my stomach right into my throat. Jael regarded me with a suspicious glance.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  I stuffed my phone into my pocket and said, “That was Detective Sergeant Carol Sparks from the Homicide Division. They found a body at Fairview Cove and she said it didn’t look human. Sounds to me like that angel who called out to us might be tits up just like the other four. I’m going to head over.”

  Jael nodded. “Ah … Ms. Sparks. She is quite tenacious when sh
e sets her mind to a challenging task. You’re in good hands.”

  “Tenacious?” I mused. “Yeah, that sounds about right. I gotta jet, Jael.”

  “Goodbye, death-dealer. Do try to be careful because whoever the killer is will be coming after you the moment he knows about your involvement.”

  “You’re worried about my safety?” I said with more than a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “That’s rich. Listen, I find anything, how will I know how to find you.”

  The tiny angel smiled warmly. “Oh, dear silly death spirit – you can never find us, but we can always find you.”

  “Just like how you divine types have been leading the charge in your search for the killer, right?” I said with a slight edge to my voice. “How’s that working out for you?”

  Apparently I’d struck a nerve. The little angel’s face twisted into a knot and she fired off a glare that could melt the hull of an aircraft carrier. “Be mindful of your tone, spirit. You are dealing with godly forces – you might well become a casualty in all of this.”

  “Probably,” I said as I turned on my heels and headed back to my pickup. “But then again, I’m not the one getting his wings clipped. Be seeing you, Jael.”

  10

  The Fairview Cove Container Terminal contained seventy acres of land and more than two thousand linear feet of dock. A familiar sight to Haligonians bombing up the Bedford Highway on their way to work, massive cranes towering clear across the basin. As one of the largest container terminals in the country, Fairview Cove was a prime destination for human smuggling rings and nearly every year a body popped up inside a shipping container.

  Only this time the body wasn’t human.

  The creature lay flat on its belly, a large pool of black ichor collected on its right side. Two pulpy stumps on its shoulders from where its wings should have been – cut off, just like the other four dead angels. Carol Sparks kept a healthy distance from the demon, a mixture of disgust and horror on her face. The dock worker who’d found the body, a linebacker-sized black man who looked like he could have killed whatever the thing I was stooping over with his bare hands, draped a meaty arm around her shoulder. Sparks leaned into his chest.