After Life

by Jacquie Underdown

  All the while Zoe envisioned Asher, hoping to draw her to her. Her lover’s murderer. That thought alone festered in her heart and brain like a flesh-eating virus.

  Asher was nothing more than that—a plague on the planet. Zoe was grateful she was dead. Intuitively, she somehow knew that Asher would get judged accordingly in The Afterlife.

  Zoe poked her head into rooms, seeing endless patients with various maladies. But no Asher. Was she subconsciously trying to avoid her? Not knowing how she would respond when she came face to face with her had Zoe’s stomach roiling with nerves.

  The anger Asher excited in her was immense, and Zoe was afraid she might explode.

  She stepped into the lifts at the end of the hall and when the doors closed, she searched the rows of numbers for the morgue. It was the last place she wanted to go, knowing that down there would be a welcoming party of spirits, but despite her reluctance, she had to find Asher.

  She had to end this once and for all.

  As Zoe reached for level two, an image flickered at the corner of her eye. She spun, coming face to face with Asher.

  She shrieked and covered her mouth with her palm; the front of Asher’s face had been blown off and stitched back together haphazardly with thick sutures.

  Her eyes, devoid of their contacts were a pale brown and sat unevenly in her head. Asher’s hair had been shaved, and the top of her head was pale and had a concaved section, neatly surrounded by stitches, where she had obviously blown her skull away.

  The way her nose and lips were sewn back together in a twisted manner made Zoe shiver. At least, and it was the only positive, Asher’s appearance distracted Zoe from her crystallising hatred for her.

  Zoe breathed in deeply, summoning her courage.

  She had a million questions for Asher but knew the answers wouldn’t change the circumstances. Asher had killed Theron. Nothing would take that back. Zoe wanted her gone from this world—for good. Any deviation would waste time.

  With the quickest of movements, she reached for Asher and snatched her hand.

  ◆◆◆

  The lifeless atmosphere had coated Zoe’s skin before vision crept in. She didn’t wait for Asher, knew now that she would follow regardless, incapable of disrupting the way of things in this world, and headed directly to the shores of the river.

  When the sloshing sounded as Marcus glided toward her, the anger from her dream consumed her so violently she wanted to jump at him and claw his smug face.

  Seeing her expression, as he neared, Marcus laughed. “Oh dear. So more memories have been uncovered. I’m in the bad books again, I see. Just when I thought you may have been stuck thinking we were still lovers.”

  “Lovers we most certainly are not.” More memories flowed to her, as they seemed to do the more times she visited this world, of catching him in the arms and bed of another woman.

  She knew, without fully understanding how that this was what the gods did; they felt entitled to screw anyone and everyone they so desired, even while in a committed relationship.

  But she wouldn’t accept it.

  “So you keep telling me,” he said, grinning smugly. “Who do we have here? A wonderful example of humanity. Not so loveable this one, is she?”

  Zoe couldn’t argue with that. In fact, she abhorred Asher. But Asher was an extreme case of humanity—there was so much goodness in the world that was ignored. Theron was an example of that goodness.

  A wave of turgid melancholy started in her chest and crept up her throat, ready to explode at the mere thought of him. When she brought Theron here, would she ever see him again?

  “I want to remember everything about this place.”

  Marcus stepped off the boat and made his way to her. “Not possible. While you insist on dwelling in that cheap replica of your home world known as Earth, you can’t remember everything.”

  “Then tell me.”

  Marcus threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll tell you this—you and I are meant to be together. Forget about Earth, there is nothing there for you anymore. Spend your days here with me. I can make you happy, Zoe. Deep down, you remember that.”

  Zoe sighed angrily. It was pointless expecting Marcus to tell her anything of value. Whatever he was keeping from her, worked to his advantage somehow.

  She stormed past him, heading for the boat. Before he could stop her, she jumped on board. “Take me to someone who can help me.”

  A name stung the tip of her tongue—a trusted confidant. “Take me to … to …” But she couldn’t recall the name. She clenched her fists and groaned. This was all so frustrating. Why would she ever choose to forget her life?

  “Tell me one thing? Please. Why did I want to forget?”

  A minuscule change occurred in his expression—though she couldn’t interpret what it meant. “Grief. An emotion most would love to forget.”

  Zoe could attest to that—losing her Nan, but mostly losing Theron was unbearable. What had happened here that was so bad she chose a human body in order to forget?

  And, if it was so bad, did she ever want to remember it?

  A sensation, like clawing hands, groped at her insides, whispered to her heart such devastation she blocked her senses to it. Yes, something dark and deep coiled within. Something that almost killed her.

  Fear took hold then. Fear about what may be uncovered. Fear of pain more immense than she could ever handle. She wanted to scream at Marcus, for him to tell her, but, on another level, she didn’t want to know. The latter won.

  Slowly, Zoe stepped out of the boat. She didn’t want to return to the hospital to face the torment that awaited her, but she had to.

  She reached into the pouch around her neck. Her hand trembled as she held up the coin. A part of her wanted to keep it for herself, so Asher would have to wait on these shores for ages with the other waifs.

  But it wasn’t her place or role to be her judge or executioner.

  Zoe turned to face Marcus. He was waiting for her, his eyes wide with expectation. She threw the coin at him, and he caught it. Already knowing his routine, she wasn’t shocked when he brought the coin to his mouth and bit down.

  Asher took her place at the seat on the aft of the boat.

  Zoe called after Marcus as he climbed aboard and stood at the bow. “Make sure this one is judged harshly.”

  Marcus laughed. “Oh, she will be. If it’s one thing we’re good at here, it’s judgement.”

  Chapter 36

  Zoe tiptoed down the dimly lit hall and slipped back into her hospital bed. The weight of this world seeped into every joint of her body and in each inhalation.

  It seemed the more she visited The Afterlife, the more she realised that this world wasn’t her true home. Perhaps that’s why she never quite fit in—she wasn’t designed to. She was made of different material than mere flesh and bone.

  As she lay there in the dark, willing sleep to come upon her and wipe out the pain, she wondered what she was running from.

  Seemed like running was a coping strategy of hers. She ran away from The Afterlife to avoid the memories of something terrible. She ran away from her hometown to attend a school where no one knew her, to hide away from her past.

  She was now going to run back home with her parents, to avoid the misery this place now held.

  That strategy wasn’t working.

  It didn’t stop bad things from happening.

  It didn’t prevent more pain accumulating in her life.

  It left her breathless, always looking over her shoulder for what might catch up with her, rather than living life in the moment. No matter where she ran to, she was always there.

  And, in the end, if she were to be honest, she was the root cause of all her problems, whether that be by not accepting herself for who she truly was or by not accepting situations for what they were, no matter how difficult to confront.

  The Afterlife didn’t have any answers she had access to, and she had no answers here. She was stuck. Trapped i
n a place of not knowing which move to take next.

  She opened her eyes to the darkness and found Theron. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. And now, I’ve ruined everything. I don’t know where to go, what to do, who to be…” She stopped when her voice cracked. Tears streaked her cheeks.

  “I’ve never been more confused. But beneath all that, I want you. All I want is you. In the flesh. Warm blood pumping from that big beautiful heart of yours. Beating for me. And my heart beating in sync for you.”

  Theron sat on the bed beside her and cradled her in his arms. She hated how this felt, somewhere between touching and not touching, feeling and not feeling.

  There was no warmth, no pressure, just a light stamp of ghostly sensation that prickled her skin. She tried so damn hard to believe he was corporeal, but nothing about this comforting embrace felt like it used to before.

  “I know you’re hurt, Zoe,” he said. “But to die offers a freedom I didn’t understand before. I feel a blissful resignation. There’s peace here—my attachments to Earth and life have been severed.”

  Zoe swallowed the lump in her throat. “You don’t love me anymore?”

  “I love you more now than I ever have. We are stitched together at the spirit level. When I move, I can feel the tug of you. Death hasn’t changed that.”

  “I love you, Theron …” she pressed her hand to her heart, “so much, it hurts me each time I think about it. I don’t think I’m capable of moving you on.”

  “Ssshhh,” he said, stroking her hair. “Just go to sleep now. You’re tired. We’ll talk about this later.”

  ◆◆◆

  Zoe woke to the cool prickle of Theron at her back. He hadn’t left her side, and for that she was grateful. He was an amazing man, in life and death, and he deserved to have his death settled.

  Who was she to insist he linger longer in this state between worlds?

  She wasn’t scared of death any more or of the dead—she knew there was somewhere else after this world. But she was afraid of the pain she would feel from Theron’s absence.

  Waking every day without him; she feared that more than anything else.

  But, she had to do what was right.

  She had to let him go.

  While her resolve was strong, she sat up and turned to face him.

  He was seated on the bed beside her. “Good morning.”

  She strained a smile, but her lips were trembling. “Morning …” she faltered for a second. “It’s time to go.”

  Theron’s eyebrows arched higher, but he nodded slowly.

  Zoe drew in a deep breath, swallowed down the aching lump in her throat and reached for his hand.

  Chapter 37

  Theron’s eyes rolled back in pleasure when he took his first deep inhalation in The Afterlife. Zoe narrowed her eyes as she watched him expand and grow before her eyes. Subtle changes took over his features—a gauzy darkness, barely perceptible.

  They stood one hundred metres from the banks of the river. His eyes were wide and bright.

  “This is right, Zoe,” he said.

  She nodded, knowing it may be right for the time being but if the books she had read were correct, on the other side of this river, he was going to be judged then sent back to Earth to live as a human being all over again. The endless cycle for a human.

  Lightning shattered the sky, creating great rumbles of sound. A mist crept across the silvery black waters of the river.

  The slow splash of the rickety timber boat as it neared sounded in the distance. Each crack of lightning illuminated the waifs lingering in the shadows, heads down, like slow moving zombies. She shuddered.

  Everything was so much clearer here now. With every visit, this world became more and more real, more viscerally and perceptibly experienced.

  Though waves of euphoria bounced from Theron, she hated seeing him in this place. Because this place always meant goodbye. And he was the last person she wanted to say goodbye to.

  His resignation eased the stress burning through her veins some, but her chest was so tight with hurt, she could scarcely breathe.

  Marcus’s slow movements, his oar slicing into the depths of the river, seemed achingly slow and yet much too fast. She wanted this moment to last forever because the closer Marcus got, the sooner Theron would be leaving.

  Zoe held Theron’s hand tighter and led him to the water’s edge, though each step was like her legs were banded tight, ready to snap and inflict a world of hurt upon her flesh.

  Marcus propelled closer until the boat skirted against the shore, the gritty sand scraping under the derelict timber boards of the hull.

  Theron went rigid, released his hand from hers and clenched his fists at his side. His jaw was tight; a small muscle beat in his neck.

  Zoe turned to him. “Hey. It’s okay.”

  His lips twisted into a snarl as he continued to stare at Marcus.

  She stroked a hand down his face and wished she hadn’t told him about her dream. It was only days ago, but it felt like an age since that had happened. “None of that matters now.”

  Marcus kept his position in the boat and didn’t say a word. Zoe reached into the pouch around her neck and pulled out the circle of gold.

  As she anticipated, Marcus eyed the coin with a blood-lust attentiveness. Zoe held it between her thumb and finger and said, “I’m coming too.”

  Marcus grinned, and Theron tensed further. “I only carry the dead.”

  She shook her head as a surge of disbelief swelled inside. She hadn’t known this, and now her plans of spending more time with Theron, if only for a little while, were thieved from her.

  “Will he be safe?” She didn’t even know why she was asking this, perhaps because she didn’t trust Marcus with her own life, let alone Theron’s afterlife.

  “Not even I can alter that path,” Marcus said.

  Zoe turned to Theron. Stores of grief bubbled up, choking her words. She didn’t want to say goodbye. None of this was fair. She sniffled as tears fell on her cheeks and made her nose water. “I can’t do this.”

  Theron gripped her hips, pulled her to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He kissed the top her head. “It’s the way of things. We can’t alter this path. But I’m okay. And so will you be.”

  He pulled back, framed her face with his hands. Gazing into her eyes unfalteringly, he said, “Remember that I love you, Zoe. And I will love you forever, no matter what.”

  Zoe nodded and hiccupped a sob. “I love you too.”

  “Go and enjoy your life,” he said.

  “I can’t …”

  He smiled warmly though there were tears glistening in his eyes. “Of course you can. I believe in you. I’ve always believed in you.” He leaned closer and kissed her for a long moment that Zoe wished would never end. “Goodbye, Zoe.”

  She shook her head. “No. No. I can’t let you go.”

  Theron frowned, kissed her forehead. “We can’t stop this.”

  Zoe knew what he was saying was true. No matter how much she dragged this out, the end result would be the same. But it didn’t make it any easier.

  She couldn’t, no matter which way she looked at it, or tried, force herself to say goodbye, turn away from him, and never see him again. She physically, mentally, spiritually couldn’t.

  Theron kissed her lips, and she breathed him in, memorising everything she loved him for—the warm press of his mouth, the heat that emanated from his body, his scent, taste, spirit. “I love you,” he said.

  And, knowing he was the one who was going to have to walk away, he looked once more into her eyes, then slowly strode toward the boat.

  A coldness crept up and settled over Zoe’s skin. She shook as she watched him stride away, bit down on her lip to stop from screaming for him to come back.

  Theron settled in a seat and turned back to watch as she flicked the gold coin to Marcus.

  Marcus caught the coin, held it before his face then b
it down on the metal. Satisfied, he winked and boarded the boat.

  Zoe whispered to Theron, one last time, “I love you.”

  Chapter 38

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” said a stout nurse with brown bob-cut hair.

  Zoe shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  “I need to check your blood pressure and temperature, so it’s best you are awake,” she said with a smile.

  Zoe couldn’t return the smile, she was physically incapable after what she had just been through. The lingering last touch from Theron still whispered on her lips.

  “I’d like to change the dressing covering your stitches too.”

  Zoe nodded.

  “How are you holding up, honey?”

  Zoe shrugged. “Not great.”

  “Poor darl,” said the nurse, taking a blood pressure band and wrapping it around Zoe’s arm. “It may not feel like it now, but I promise you’ll get through this.”

  But Zoe knew her situation and circumstances were not like everyone else’s. She felt so trapped, torn between two worlds. A world where Theron was, and a world where her parents and brothers existed.

  And what was the fate for Theron anyway?

  Was he to be reincarnated as a tiny baby at some time in the future?

  Could he already be here, staring into his new mother’s eyes?

  Contemplating that—Theron never being in her life again—took her to the unsteady edge of an abyss. If she let her mind dwell on that fact, she would fall in and lose herself to the sharp rocks and rough waves of grief and never return. So she pulled herself away from the edge, for now.

  The nurse finished with the blood pressure and temperature. Then carefully peeled the waterproof bandage covering Zoe’s wound. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt, just a little pricking as the adhesive came unstuck from the hairs on her arms.

  Zoe looked at the wall, hesitant to see the cut—a reminder of what happened those few nights ago. A reminder of how Theron had died trying to save her.