Brametheus Grim: The Final Breath Chronicles Book Three

by V. B. Marlowe

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  Brametheus Grim

  Book Three of the Final Breath Chronicles

  V.B. Marlowe

  Brametheus Grim

  Book Three of the Final Breath Chronicles

  Other books by V.B. Marlowe:

  The Shadow Pines Trilogy

  Shadow, Shadow

  Moonlight, Moonlight

  Darkness, Darkness

  The Dust Trilogy

  A Girl Called Dust

  Dust and Roses

  Blood and Dust

  The Everly Girls Series

  Forever Snow

  Forever Ella

  Forever Scarlett

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2017 V.B. Marlowe All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be copied or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Printed in the United States of America.

  Marlowe Blue Publications

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  Table of Contents

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  Bought the farm. Bit the dust. Kicked the bucket. Pushing up Daisies. There were so many ways to say that someone’s life was coming to an end. Personally, I preferred to just call it what it was. Death.

  I, along with six other men, were huddled at the base of a towering office building. A small group of nosey onlookers had already gathered, craning their necks and pointing their phones toward the top of the building. The guys and I were invisible to everyone but ourselves.

  JT was the lead on this assignment. “All right. Arms out. I figure he should land right here.” He gestured to the small area on the concrete.

  I must have heard him wrong. “Wait . . . what?”

  Mauricio narrowed his dark eyes at me. He was my partner and he hated the fact that I existed. Sometimes we worked in groups and sometimes we went out in pairs. It depended on the job. Mauricio had treated me like a contagious disease since the first time he laid eyes on me. I didn’t think it was fair for him to hate me without cause, so I made it my daily duty to give him a valid reason. “You have a problem with that, boy?”

  He insisted on calling me boy even though I was pushing nineteen. That alone made me want to sink my fist into his throat but I let it roll off my back. “Yeah, I have a problem. This building is what—at least twenty stories? This guy is going to come hurtling towards us at one hundred miles per hour and we’re supposed to catch him?”

  JT looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Yeah. What’s your point?”

  All five men stared at me, waiting for a response. This was my new life. I was an Interceptor. I supposed it could be a nice job, but I was still getting used to it. Intercepting was the exact opposite of what I’d been raised to do. I was born a Grim—a being who lived off the deaths of Humans. Once a person died, their souls turned into something that resembled a small lump of coal—a lifestone. The more lifestones we collected, the more years were added to our lives. It had been my job to collect lifestones from people after they died and bring them back to my former home, the colony of Nowhere. There was nothing more important than lifestones. Not only did they add years to our lives, they powered our colony.

  Unfortunately, a lot of shady shit had gone down in Nowhere. I don’t have time to get into it now because a guy’s about to make a Human anvil out of himself and it’s our responsibility to keep him from becoming a splat stain on the sidewalk. Yes, that’s my new job, to intercept Death. I live in the Human world. As Interceptors, we strived to stop death before it happens. How do we do that? Basically, you’re expected to turn part superhero, I’ll explain more about that a little later. Right now, I must focus on this poor guy who’s completely given up on life.

  The late afternoon sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky. A flock of pigeons in a V-formation soared about the gray-bricked building. The pedestrians who hadn’t noticed the man lingering on the edge of the building’s roof, went on their busy ways completely oblivious.

  “Bram! Arms Out!” Leighton shouted. Blond with hulking muscles and a permanent scowl, he was our resident doctor back at the farm. I can promise you that once this poor suicidal guy hit the pavement, there would be nothing Leighton, MD could do for him.

  I almost obeyed him, then hesitated. “I don’t think this is a good idea. If we try to catch this guy, there’s a good chance we could all die.” I wasn’t a scientific genius like my younger brother, Dorian, but I understood the laws of gravity. I also understood how stupid it was for someone to stand underneath an object hurtling towards the earth at a significant speed.

  Mauricio glared at me. “Bram, you’re not supposed to be worrying about yourself. We stop death at any cost. Not everything is about you.”

  That was probably the worst part of being an Interceptor. I was expected to risk my life and well-being to save a Human. I don’t have anything against Humans personally, but I don’t think their lives are more important than mine. I couldn’t see why I should put myself in harm’s way for one. Besides, this guy wanted to die. Should we risk our lives forcing him to live against his will?

  There had to be another option. “Someone already called 911. We should wait for them. Maybe someone should go up there and stall the guy.”

  “We don’t have time for that,” JT argued. “The man will jump by then. Arms out!”

  I held one arm out and used the other to wipe JT’s saliva from my face. The others had a good reason to not be as worried as I was. We took a serum every few days that made our bodies stronger and faster and our bones less breakable. The only problem was that they had been taking the serum for over a year while I had only begun. Naturally, they would be less prone to injury than I was.

  The growing crowd oohed and aahed. No one looked too concerned about the man. They seemed more eager to watch him jump so they could record his death, post it, and wait for it to go viral. I overheard one girl chatting to her friend on the phone about how she’d always wanted to see a jumper in real life and how she couldn’t wait to post the video on YouTube. Humans.

  I lifted my head to see the man teetering at the edge of the building. He could jump at any moment.

  He was too far up for me to make out any significant features. I couldn’t tell his race, hair, or eye color. I guessed none of that was important. I did want to know why the guy wanted to belly flop onto the sidewalk. Shaking my head, I tried to shoo the thought away. I’d always criticized my sister Naomi for being too concerned about Humans and trying to figure out why they did the things they did, now here I was doing the same thing. Maybe being away from home was causing this change in me.

  It was almost five in the evening. Soon people would be getting off from work and they would either encounter a messy corpse or a corpse covered with a white sheet on the s
idewalk. It depended on how long it would take the police to secure the body.

  “Here he comes!” Price shouted, craning his neck toward the sky.

  My throat tightened. I held my arms out straight in front of me locking my elbows, looking up. The six of us stood in a circle forming a human trampoline. The man turned on the ledge of the building and he allowed himself to fall backwards. The crowd screamed, suddenly alarmed as if they were just now getting how serious the situation was. Sirens blared in the distance, but they were too late.

  JT swore. “We need to move back this way! Come on.”

  We took a step back, but stayed in formation. The man was a small speck growing larger and larger as he plummeted toward us. I thought about the weight of the man’s body and what would happen once it hit me. I imagined my bones cracking and my body slamming against the concrete.

  Just before he reached us, I pulled my arms down to my side and stepped back. The man slammed into the other men. They all hit the ground with a chorus of grunts and moans.

  “Bram!” Mauricio bellowed.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, even though no amount of apologizing would excuse what I’d done.

  The men slowly rose to their feet. I could tell they were sore by their sluggardly movements. Two police cars and an ambulance rounded the corner. JT and Leighton laid the man gently on the ground.

  The crowd shouted things that I mostly blocked out. I did catch a man’s voice saying, “The hell? That guy should be a mess. There’s not even any blood.” He sounded disappointed.

  Leighton examined him for a moment then bowed his head. “His neck is broken.”

  Well, of course.

  “Dammit, Bram!” JT yelled.

  Mauricio yanked the collar of my black T-shirt, pulling me closer to him than I cared to be. “I swear to God I’m gonna end your life,” he threatened through clenched teeth.

  I cleared my throat. “But Interceptors are supposed to prevent Death, not cause it.”

  Mauricio pulled his fist back and I braced myself for the impact. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time I’d gotten slugged in the face.

  Price wedged himself between us. “Not here. Get back to the chamber.”

  We used the transportation chamber to get from the farm where we lived to our assignments. A silver box the size of an elevator waited for us at the end of the street. The chamber would take us from Chicago to Texas.

  Police officers backed the curious crowd away from the dead man as we tore down the street to the chamber. We only had a small amount of time before it would disappear and our only way to get home would be lost. Inside the chamber, Leighton pulled a chain from around his neck. The chain held a small black clip which he slid into a slot. The door slid shut. The chamber vibrated and then moved in an upward motion. I pressed my hands against the cool metal wall of the chamber to keep my balance. The last thing I wanted to do was fall into someone when they were already pissed at me. No one said a word on the way back. They never did after jobs that weren’t successful. That was the reality of being an Interceptor. You couldn’t save everyone. The Inceptors kept percentages of how many successful jobs they completed and prided themselves on having high averages. I didn’t care so much about that. I knew JT and a woman named Celeste had the highest successful percentages on the farm, ninety-eight. After this, Celeste would be in the lead. I didn’t even bother to keep track of my score. This was the second unsuccessful job I had been on.

  The chamber stopped abruptly and we struggled to keep upright. The door opened to a room filled with metal tables which held computer monitors, tubes filled with colored liquids, and other equipment. I let the other guys out first. I was in no hurry to see Marshall, our leader. As soon as I stepped out, Mauricio yanked me by the throat and slammed me to the ground. He sat on my chest and slammed his fists into my face. His weight crushed my midsection, keeping me from breathing. I could do nothing but shield my face from his blows.

  Price and Leighton pulled him off me. Even then, he threw punches at the air as he struggled to get out of their grasps.

  “What the hell is going on?” Marshall asked as he rose from his desk in the corner of the room. I sat up and pretended not to be hurt.

  JT offered me his hand and pulled me from the ground. “We had a mishap.”

  Marshall wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean mishap?”

  “There was no mishap,” Mauricio said, still in the hands of Price and Leighton. “Bram screwed up an assignment. A guy broke his neck because of him.”

  Marshall ran his fingers through his white hair. “What happened, Bram?”

  I appreciated him giving me a chance to tell my side of the story. Marshall was an okay guy for the most part. “I’m sorry about what happened to that man, but what we were trying to do was just not feasible. The guy was jumping from twenty stories up. Yes, he died. At least we kept him from splatting all over the sidewalk like a cantaloupe.”

  A chorus of groans came from the other Interceptors. “This effin kid,” someone said.

  Marshall watched me for a second with his blue-gray eyes and then sighed. “All right. You guys go rest up. You must be exhausted.”

  Mauricio puffed. “Are you kidding me? You don’t have anything to say to that? He totally punked out and a man died.”

  Marshall nodded. “Maybe so, but chances are that man wouldn’t have survived that fall anyway. Mauricio, you know quite well that we can’t save them all. Not even you can.”

  Mauricio’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, but we don’t give up. This kid is a disaster and he has no business being here.”

  Marshall nodded. “Well, you’re his partner and mentor, Mauricio. Maybe some more training and practice sessions are in order.”

  Mauricio swore, flipped over a chair, and stormed out of the lab. The last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with me. The feeling was mutual.

  Marshall looked at the others. “Good try anyway, gentleman. Let me have a moment with Bram, please.”

  The others filed out of the room and my stomach churned. Here it was. Marshall was just too nice of a guy to do it in front of everyone, but he was about to rip me a new one and kick me off his farm.

  I folded my arms over my chest, acting as if everything were normal. “That Mauricio. He’s got some anger issues, huh?”

  Marshall grinned and patted a rolling desk chair beside him. “Have a seat, Bram.”

  Reluctantly, I sank into the seat. “Look, I’m—”

  “Bram, how are you feeling about being here?”

  I shrugged because I had mix feelings about it and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure this was where I was supposed to be. “I don’t get it. I’m really trying to, but I don’t. My sister gets it. Keira gets it—but I don’t understand the motivation behind you guys risking your lives to save Humans. Death must happen. We all know that. Grims thrive off Death and just calling ourselves Interceptors doesn’t mean that we aren’t Grim anymore. We are. I feel like I’m betraying my people.”

  Marshall stroked his chin. “I told you when you first came here that this lifestyle may not be for you. If it’s not, maybe you should explore some other options. It would be a shame though. If your heart was in it and you really applied yourself, you would be a kickass Interceptor. You could rival Celeste and Mauricio.”

  I didn’t care about that. I cared about my Grims being safe. I had a bunch of kids depending on me and this farm was where we needed to be. They had followed me from Nowhere because I promised them a better life than what we’d had there. The farm was the only place they could be safe and provided for. Even if I wasn’t feeling this Interceptor life, I was going to have to fake it.

  “No, I really want to be here. I want to do this. It’s just taking me a little time to adjust but I’ll be fine.”

  Marshall studied me for a second before nodding. “Your bother Dorian really likes it here.”

  “I know.” Dorian spent hours in the lab watching Marshall and learning
from him. “It’s cool of you to you to teach him stuff. Thanks.”

  “Not a problem. I enjoy him.”

  I stifled a yawn. “May I be excused now? I’d like to take a nap.”

  Marshall gestured toward the door. “Sure. Don’t forget. I’m always here if you ever want to talk.”

  I had no intention of coming back to have a heart to heart. I checked myself out in the mirror on Marshall’s desk to see Mauricio’s damage. I had red blotches on the right side of my face and the beginnings of a purple bruise under my left eye. Keira was going to freak.

  I ambled out into the annoyingly bright sunshine and cringed immediately, longing for my home. The Human world was much too bright and hot for my taste. Nowhere was in a different dimension. The temperature was always perfect. There was a constant chill in the air and the skies were always a comforting, hazy gray. I missed Nowhere tremendously but I tried not to think about it.

  Nowhere was nothing like our location in North America. There was no president or democracy. We had one ruler who was The Lord of Death. What he said went, whether we liked it or not. Dunningham had been our Lord from over a thousand years and would probably rule forever. He thrived off the lifestones we collected and he never had children to inherit the throne after him.

  Each Grim was required to pay a tithe, a tenth of all the lifestones they collected, to the treasury. Those lifestones went to pay Dunningham’s staff, the Watchers who guarded our city, and our electricity. From that, Dunningham took what he wanted.

  Everything wasn’t all peaches and cream back home. Nowhere was divided into three sections—The Upper Estates where Dunningham and the rich Grims lived; Farrington was for the middle class where we were from; Litropolis was the section for the poorer Grims. Dunningham determined who lived where because he was in charge of dispatching assignments. It was simple; if he sent you on a lot of assignments, you collected plenty of lifestones and got rich. The poor Grims of Litropolis rarely got sent on assignments, yet had to contribute to the city fund. It wasn’t fair once you considered the fact that their city had no electricity or security. There had been a riot just before we left Nowhere because of that. Litropolis was angry about paying what little they had to a system that didn’t even benefit them. That wasn’t even the worst part, though. Since they collected little lives, they lived much shorter lives than we did. They aged, growing wrinkles and gray hair while the rest of us maintained a youthful appearance. Grims of the Upper Estates lived for thousands of years, we lived for hundreds, and the Litropolites barely saw the age of 100.