But if she didn’t look at it, she felt as if she was copping out on her part to play in all this: avoiding suffering when the one man she loved more than anything lost his life playing this game.
She turned slowly until her eyes focused on the wound. The stitches were gone. All that was left was a thick, pale scar that ran up the inside of her arm.
Zoe met the gaze of the nurse. “I don’t understand.”
The nurse nodded, eyes wide. “Me neither. This was the location…of the…”
Zoe nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re obviously a super quick healer.”
“Obviously,” she agreed.
The nurse squeezed Zoe’s shoulder gently. “Hmm, just wait here while I go grab the doctor.”
While the nurse was gone, Zoe wiggled her fingers where Asher had broken the bones. They were a little stiff, but there was no more pain.
When the doctor came in and inspected the scar, he was as dumbfounded as the nurse. He pressed along the bones of her fingers, confirming that they had set nicely.
They both agreed, with no other possibility available, that she was a fast healer.
Zoe knew differently—she was changing.
The more times she visited The Afterlife, the stronger she became. The more god-like, perhaps.
The residing doctor promised, with the new situation, she would be able to be discharged that morning.
When they left the room, Zoe flopped back against her pillows and ran a finger along the scar. It no longer hurt. She shook her head and sighed.
How am I going to explain this to Mum and Dad?
With all these glaring differences she possessed, how hard was this life going to become?
◆◆◆
Zoe dressed in a pair of jeans and a pale blue shirt her parents had brought from her dorm. Despite the heaviness of grief, which cut so deep her skin felt flayed, leaving the hospital offered relief. A change of scenery. This town now held too many horrible memories.
Trudging along the hospital halls, her dad’s shoes squeaking on the polished linoleum, she passed a male spirit dressed in a hospital gown stained around the neckline with blood. He was stumbling down the hall like he was drunk, bumping into the staff, trolleys and walls.
Further down, another male spirit was sitting on the floor, back resting against the wall, crying. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt, his face was cut, swollen and bruised.
As they entered the lifts, a young girl, long blonde hair flowing behind her, sprinted down the hall. She was white, lips blue, and was calling for her mother.
Zoe swallowed hard and barely gave them any attention, though she felt their stares on her as she walked on by.
Her perceptions of the dead had sharpened. She wasn’t afraid, though. Not anymore. She knew enough about reality now to ever be afraid.
But she had no desire to help them. The thought of going back to The Afterlife and seeing Marcus, knowing Theron was somewhere in the distance, unreachable, was too much to bear. So this was how Rhianna had felt about her mother.
Zoe simply wanted to proverbially bury her head in the sand for a while until she didn’t feel so deeply.
Down in the parking lot, Zoe settled in the backseat of her parents’ car. They each turned to look at her and smiled when they climbed into the front seats.
She smiled back as best she could as a warm sensation flowered in her chest. She recognised the emotion—love. Such a healing sensation. Her parents loved her. No doubt. And she loved them too, with all of her. With her parent's love, she would get through this.
“Happy to be coming home?” Dad asked.
Zoe nodded. “Yes. I am.” And in a way, she was. There was nothing left for her here, not even remnants of the person she once was.
Chapter 39
Stepping through the front door of Zoe’s childhood home brought forth a wash of welcomed familiarity.
Her brothers were inside playing on their gaming consoles in the lounge room. The noise was pleasantly normal.
“Boys, your sister’s home,” Mum sang.
Zoe set her face into an impartial expression, but, deep down, she couldn’t wait to see them despite only talking to them a couple of days ago in the hospital.
After clicks and clacks, the boys scuttled from the lounge to the foyer. Her heart flooded with warmth when she saw them. When you’ve lost a loved one, those remaining were even more valuable.
“Hi,” she said, offering a trembling smile.
They came to her, and each hugged her with strong, tight embraces. “Welcome home,” Seth said.
“Yeah, it’s good to have you home,” Braith said.
Zoe gave a short laugh because her brothers actually sounded genuine. “Thank you. It’s good to be home.”
“Come on, let’s go have a cup of tea,” Dad said, coming up from behind with two suitcases in his hands.
Her parents had cleared all her personals from the dormitory earlier that morning before they came to the hospital. They dealt with the school, cancelling her enrolment. They handled everything. And for once in her life, she loved that they stepped in and took charge.
And she was grateful to never have to step foot back on those school grounds because though she shared so many beautiful memories of Theron, she couldn’t bear to even smell the residual scent of Asher, and she knew Asher’s stench would coat everything.
Zoe headed through the lounge to the kitchen but baulked when she saw the girl hanging from the ceiling fan by a noose. If the girl screamed for help, Zoe was going to lose her mind. She quickened her pace, not looking back at the girl.
“Help!”
“Help me!”
“Help!”
Zoe stopped and closed her eyes. Her life would never be her own when she had spirits stalking her or screaming at her to help them. Her entire life would be assisting them to The Afterlife.
Her parents would never understand that.
When she opened her eyes again, Mum and Dad had stopped and were glancing between Zoe and the living room.
“Everything okay?” Mum asked.
Zoe nodded, though the shrill screeching from the hanging girl was reverberating through her head.
“Do you need to lie down?” asked Dad.
She pressed a hand to her head and nodded. “I feel a bit dizzy, I think I’ll go rest for a while.”
“Do you want me to bring you up a cup of tea?” Mum asked.
Zoe managed a smile. “Yes. Thank you.” And she headed up the stairs, all the while wanting to strangle the girl herself.
In her bedroom with the door shut, the screaming from the girl was quieter. Zoe turned on an old iPod dock she had left behind when she went away for school to drown the sound out even further.
Was it too much to ask that she be given a little time to grieve for her boyfriend before she had to deal with every other spirit on the planet?
Zoe crawled onto her bed and lay back against her pillow. Her body ached, chest burned—she missed Theron so much. Before she could stop them, tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t swipe them away, it was a useless effort because as soon as she did, more would follow anyway.
The door opened. Mum frowned from the doorway before coming to sit on the bed beside Zoe. “Sweetie, I know it’s hard. It will take time for the loss of Theron to not feel so bad. But I promise you, you’ll feel joy again, and the pain will be more manageable.”
Zoe sat up and cuddled her mother tightly. She breathed in her floral perfume and relished the warm comfort of her embrace. “Thanks, Mum. I know that, but it just doesn’t feel that way at the moment. ”
Mum kissed the top of Zoe’s head. “I know, sweetie. You just take all the time you need to relax and feel better. No pressure. We’re all here for you.”
◆◆◆
When the clock struck two o’clock, Zoe switched on her bedside lamp and scouted through her handbag for the sleeping pills the doctor had prescribed for her upon leaving the hospital.
She had been resisting them, but her mind wouldn’t cease with thoughts of Theron and the night he was shot dead. The thoughts played on her body like she was a guitar but instead of strumming lightly, they thrashed and abused her.
She ached and was so damn tired, yet each time she stole a snippet of sleep, she’d wake with a start, remnants of a nightmare swirling away from her.
Zoe squinted at the bottle to see how many she was allowed to take, then picked out one pill. She drank it down with a gulp of water. Lying back on her bed, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep.
Sleep came soon enough, and so did the dreams.
Theron’s voice echoed in her mind.
“More,” he said.
His voice, to hear its deep resonance, soothed her soul. But she didn’t understand him. “More what?”
“More to me. More to you.”
“How?”
A brush of sensation swept across the back of her neck like his fingers were stroking strands of her hair. Her eyes closed.
“Come back to me. You know something that could save us.”
She opened her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know anything.”
“Zoe, listen to me.” His voice was clearer now, closer.
Traces of his heat soaked into her as though he was seated beside her. She wanted to reach out and touch him. Slowly, she crept out her hand but met nothing.
Pain swelled deep inside her, tearing through her body like a sharp-toothed saw.
“Concentrate, Zoe. Listen to me.”
His words made her forget the torment and focus again. “I’m listening.”
“Come back. Without you, your parents, brothers, and human world will die. I need you. We all need you.”
“How?”
“You know how.”
His lips brushed against hers, stamping warm sensation across her mouth. The pain flourished again; it was longing, so intense it hurt to feel it. “I miss you so much,” she whispered.
“Trust me. You must come home. Now!”
When she woke, Zoe pressed her fingers to her lips as little prickles of remembrance still stirred upon them.
Oh, how she missed Theron in every inch of her soul, and a dream like this only reinforced the pain of his absence.
Her heart thumped hard and fast as the dream reappeared in her wakened state.
Theron needs me to come back for him because what I know will save them.
She shook her head, incapable of even conceiving what she could possibly know that would save anyone, let alone everyone. And save them from what exactly?
Trust me. You must come home.
Pressing her hand to her forehead, she tried to recall if there was something important she wasn’t remembering.
Hidden knowledge trembled on the outskirts of her mind. She zoomed in on it, but it was covered by layers of ice. She could see the smudgy outline of what she knew, but could not get near enough to see it clearly.
She sat up and reached for her lamp, only for it to flicker on of its own accord. She looked around the room, searching for someone. But her room was empty.
“Theron?” she whispered.
The light flickered again. She sighed as a flood of relief met her. A book flipped from her bookshelf at the end of the bed, landing open on the floor. The pages fluttered then settled quickly.
She flung her legs over the side of her bed and raced to the book. Crouching down, she read the page that was open.
Devastating Weather Events take Millions of Lives across the Globe.
It was an old science textbook she used for school studies. The article explored the increasing strength and occurrence of natural disasters.
But what did this have to do with her?
Perhaps Zoe was thinking too much like a human, rather than the supposed god that she was. She stood and raced to her bedside table, grabbed her mobile phone and opened the search engine.
She typed in ancient Greek mythology, gods, and weather events.
Zoe opened the first search result and scanned the article. She gasped when she read: all occurrences of weather, both good and bad, were considered performed directly by the gods.
Were the gods controlling Earth’s weather?
Without you, your parents, your brothers, your human world will die.
Zoe lifted her head from the screen and groaned as fear shot through her. Were the gods planning on wiping everyone out with some natural disaster?
Her heart rate galloped as this question touched on that buried knowledge blurred by layers of ice. Marcus! This had something to do with him, she was sure of it.
And what about Theron? Where did he come into this?
More to me. More to you.
How much more? Just how deep did this rabbit hole go? And was she willing to follow it down?
Zoe’s stomach clenched and bubbled with nerves because she knew what she had to do to find the end of all this—she had to end her human life.
She had to leave her parents, her brothers, her whole world behind.
But she could never do that—could she?
Already, she knew this wasn’t where she belonged—that this wasn’t her home world. But to end her life…
A shudder ran up her spine. Stomach acid bubbled up her throat. She swallowed hard and took gulping breaths.
It wasn’t any easy thing to do, but the stakes were bigger than her little world she had made for herself here. This involved the fate of many many human beings. This involved the fate of her family.
What if she refused to make the difficult decision, do the impossible task, and they all died anyway?
Her body tensed and vibrated; it already knew what her mind hadn’t allowed her to acknowledge yet—she had decided.
Realistically, she had no choice.
She had to leave this world—no matter how hard that was going to be to do.
Chapter 40
The weight of Zoe’s decision sat upon her shoulders like a heavy yoke. All night she drifted in and out of sleep, out of dreams, to The Afterlife, then back to her bed, always thinking, thinking, thinking about what she had to do.
What she must do.
Theron was in her dreams. He’d touch her skin, but when she’d reach out to feel him, he would drift away like he was nothing more than an exquisite whisper.
What a cruel game her mind played, filling her heart with a yearning that pooled emotion in her lungs so full she could drown.
She never knew she could miss someone so much that it hurt to breathe or that the thought of facing, let alone walking into, that blackened cloud of grief sitting so sharply in the centre of her chest, would be so terrifying. Terrifying because the grief could so easily sweep her up and never let go.
By morning, Zoe was exhausted, mind a mess of emotions and memories.
With heavy footsteps, she dragged herself out of bed and went to the bathroom. Standing at the basin in front of the mirror, she splashed water on her face. The water was cold compared to her hot skin. She needed that—a shock to break through all the heaviness.
Zoe stared at her reflection. But upon seeing the unfamiliar girl staring back, she gasped and took a step backward.
How utterly disturbing it was to have changed so much on the inside that when she looked into the mirror, the reflection that stared back did not fit in with the self-image she held in her mind.
Leaning closer, really looking, there were more differences than a mere discord between thought and the physical. There were real physical changes.
A purple hue glimmered beneath her brown irises. Her hair was a few shades darker again, something she had noted a few weeks ago. Her body was thicker, athletic.
Theron saw the changes back then too.
Theron. A wave of pain swelled in her chest, crept up her neck, tightening the walls of her throat. Palms pressed to the cabinet, she leaned against it, dropped her head, closed her eyes, and breathed through the torture of his loss.
Would s
he ever be able to get through a single minute, a single hour, a single day without this heartache? She didn’t think so. Knowing that Theron, her first love, her only love, was murdered was something that would sit like dread in Zoe’s soul forever.
She stopped herself with that thought, snapped her eyes open and peered at the girl in the mirror. What would happen when she went to The Afterlife? Would she still remember her parents, Theron, and the momentous reason behind why she had to end her life?
Sure, she’d played the soul shepherd to a few deceased humans, saw how they went to the river and were met by Marcus, who with payment of a gold coin, ushered them across the river of liquid silver. But what happened with the souls of gods? For that’s who she was—a god.
A shudder tumbled through Zoe, her body still at odds with what her mind and soul knew to be true.
When her body took its last breath, and she woke up on the other side of death, what would be waiting for her? Would she finally find the answers she had been seeking for so long?
But most importantly, would she have made the right decision to end her human life?
After dressing, Zoe met her mother who was cooking blueberry pancakes in the kitchen. She kissed her cheek. “Want me to help?”
Mum looked up from the pan and smiled. “Sure, honey. Here, you can look after this while I make some maple-butter syrup.”
Zoe took the spatula and stood at the stove. A blue dotted pancake had little air bubbles forming across its surface, so she carefully lifted the edges with the spatula and flipped it.
The sweet caramel smell wafting from the pan sunk into her nostrils and tickled her hunger. Mum hummed as she poured maple syrup into a microwaveable container.
Zoe’s chest squeezed like her ribs were the plaything of giants. Now that she had made the decision to end her time here on Earth, it was as though everything had tipped onto its side, and she was able to see the world from a new perspective.
Before last night, this morning would have been another unexceptional moment in a long series of unexceptional moments.
Before last night when a dream version of Theron whispered to her that she needed to go back to the world after death, she would have looked at her mother just now with a touch of resentment in her heart.
After Life Page 23
